ICE CREAM ON FIRE!

New Zealand Tablet, 15 February 1917, Page 62

ICE CREAM ON FIRE!

An eminent : actor was recently^ recalling his early days. Stage-effects had not then reached the present height of perfection. • • • - r j , - ‘ In those days,’ said the actor, -‘ raw cotton was stage ice-cream, just as syrup and water were stage wine, sherry, or port, according to the proportion of * . , . ... j . , ~ ° , r r syrup , which served to color the water. • ' ‘ The actors in one play were seated at the table where they had been enjoying such dishes as these, and . their dialogue was "making a great impression , on a crowded house. 1 ;v Then in came a maid-servant with a very shaky candelabra. The scene was so engrossing that she was scarcely noticed; but when she set down her burden on the table, and one candle toppled over and set fire to the ice-cream, the entire audience burst out laughing, and the curtain had to be rung down.’ DID NOT ADVERTISE. During a meeting of ‘ad.’ writers held recently - someone told the following ‘ A man entered a shop one cold day and bought a woollen muffler. When he opened the muffler he found inside the photograph of a beautiful girl with a note couched in these terms: ‘“lf you are single please write to me.” * A name and address followed, and the man smiled. He was single. He placed the photo on his library table. In a week he had fallen in love with the picture of the beautiful girl. So he wrote to her. ~ A week passed, during which the bachelor was in a fever of impatience. Finally He received this terrible blow in the shape of a letter: * “Dear Sir,The Mary Jones to whom you wrote was my grandmother. She died nine years ago, aged eighty-seven.—Yours truly. ‘ Upon investigating this strange case the brokenhearted bachelor discovered that he had purchased the muffler from a dealer who did not advertise.’ She was a sweet young thing, and having come down to see her soldier brother, who was on duty at that time, she was being taken round by his chum. She was, of course, full of questions. Who is that person?’ she asked, pointing to a color-sergeant. * Oh! he shook hands with the King; that is why he is wearing a crown on his arm, you see replied the truthful man. ‘And who is that?’ she asked, seeing a gymnastic instructor with a badge of crossed Indian clubs. ' That is the barber do you not see the scissors on his arm?’ Seeing, yet another man with cuffs decorated with stars, she asked, ‘ And that one ?’ ‘ Oh, he is the battalion astronomer he guides us on night manoeuvres!’ ‘How interesting!’ replied the maiden, when, seeing her companion’s badge, that of an ancient stringed instrument, she asked, ‘ And does that thing mean you are the regimental liar ? ’ ‘I CAN’T DO IT.’ ‘ But I can’t do half those things,’ said a bewildered new pupil to the teacher of physical culture, as they stood together in the gymnasium. ‘ I simply can’t do them at all.’ ‘ If you could there would be little use of your coming here,’ was the sensible reply. ‘ You are here to learn how to do them, to train your limbs and muscles to strength and suppleness.’ f

This is the story of life. We say we cannot do this thing we cannot. endure .that; we are ; not strong enough to climb to this ideal or to bear that burden or to , struggle successfully with temptation and wrong' that' overmaster us so easily. What is the use of trying when we have failed again and again ? But that is just what we are here for: to learn how, through failure and mistake, to grow a little. stronger by every endeavor, whether it end in foothold or fall. We are here to try, never to give up trying, and to gain spiritual strength and vigor by persistent struggle. It is not this rope caught or that weight lifted that counts; it is the strength gained by effort. ‘OUT OF THE MOUTHS OF BABES.’ f The late King Edward used to tell the following story: The King asked one of his little grandsons what part of history he was then studying. ‘All about Perkin Warbeck,’ replied his Roya! Highness. ‘ And who was he inquired his Majesty, anxious to test his grandson’s knowledge. * Oh,’ answered,the Prince, ‘he pretended he was the son of a king, but he wasn’t; he was the son of N respectable parents.’ NOT THE WAY TO SPELL IT. v In a North-country harbor a Scotch drifter was having her name repainted. Near to her was a British war vessel, from the deck of which a knot of interested tars watched lazily whilst the letters ‘PSYCHE’ were completed. Just then'one, afflicted with a particularly sensitive ‘ receiving station,’ received a ‘brain wave.’ • ' ‘ Ho. there below!’ he drawled, and the words squirmed along the stem of his aged clay. ‘ Cawn’t yer not spell ? Was yer never at school, eh ? That’s not the way we spell “fish” in the Navy.’ MUNICIPAL ECONOMY. First Councillor: ‘Here’s a fine-looking street.’ Second ditto: ‘You’re right. What’s the best thing to do with it?’ ‘ Let’s have it dug up for a sewer.’ ‘But .wouldn’t it-*be proper to pave it first?’ ‘ OLcourse; I thought you would understand that. Then, after it is paved and a drain put in, we’ll have it repaved.’ * ‘ All in readiness to be dug up again for the gas pipe ? I see you understand the principles of municipal economy. And after we have had it repaved for the second time, then what?’ ‘ Well, then it will be ready for widening. There’s nothing I admire so much as system in the care and improvement of our roadways.’ A BAD CASE. The proud mother was showing off her son to a neighbor. ‘ He grows more like his father every day,’ she said. The neighbor, being a man, and one of the father’s former pals, did not expand with appreciation. ‘ Dear me,’ he said. - And have you tried everything?’