SMILE RAISERS.

New Zealand Tablet, 24 July 1919, Page 46

SMILE RAISERS.

It was a trembling class that faced the inspector, as he bounced in and rapped out questions like a machine-gun. But the boys were not to be caught, napping, and the replies came back very well until he asked one boy whether he would prefer one-sixth or one-seventh of an orange. ‘‘l would prefer one-seventh, sir,” answered the scholar. ‘‘One-seventh — said the inspector, grimly, and thereupon proceeded to explain that although that fraction sounded larger, it was really the smaller of the two. “I "know that, sir,” said the pupil. “That’s why I chose it. I don’t like oranges.” “Yes,” proudly observed a complacent and somewhat boastful business man to his actor friend, “your profession may be a very lofty one in an artistic sense, but that of a successful merchant is much better. Look at me ! At the early age of 45 retired on my fortune, and presented by my fellow-merchants with an illuminated address! Can you boast of anything like that ? Have you ever had an illuminated address?” “I have,” replied the actor—“once.” “When?’’asked the merchant. “Why,” replied the actor, “when my lodgings caught fire.” A well-known politician, after an impassioned address, cried: “If a lie has passed my lips this evening, may a thunderbolt from Heaven fall on my head.” As he spoke, the platform, a fragile affair, collapsed in a cloud of dust, and the orator passed from view. The audience sat spellbound. After a few tense moments, the politician slowly emerged from the wreckage. “Gosh!” exclaimed a voice from the back of the hall. “It’s missed him A party of Americans was being conducted over the ancient abbey in an old town in England. The learned attendant pointed out the ages of the various parts, and referring to one arch in particular said, “That arch may possibly go back to William the Conqueror.” “Don’t you like it?” promptly asked one of the sightseers. The attendant signified that he did not understand. “Wal, why are you sending it back, anyway?” was the reply. “Don’t it suit you ?” Mrs. Fortysummers: “I told Mr. Beach I was 28, and he said I didn’t look it.” Her Loving Husband: “Well, you don’t; you haven’t looked it for fifteen years,”