TRY A SMILE

Camp News (Northern Command), Volume 1, Issue 22, 27 September 1940, Page 8

TRY A SMILE

• Hitler, Stalin and Musso were fighting verbally for the dictatorship of the world. Joe’s claim was: “I have most subjects, so it’s me.” Musso retorted: “No, it’s not. God told me in a dream that I was to rule the world.” Said Hitler with a scowl: “When did I tell you that?” '>.*-. * * * , He was an under-sized ,meek little man, and sidled up with an air of hopeful expectancy to the counter of a pleasure steamer office. “Sea trips still running?’ ’he asked. “Course not,” snarled the clerk. “Want to be torpedoed?” “Oh, I don’t want to go,” came the reply in despondent, tones, “But the wife’s mother is staying with us and , she always said that a sea-trip does her good.” . ***** The “cabinet meeting” was in sesi sion in the saloon bar of the Bull’s j ! Head. It had settled every point arising out of the war . . . except the 1 one of how best it could be won. “Well, it’s up to you young ’uns to deliver the goods,” declared a beribboned veteran of the last war. “Gertcha!” replied a young football enthusiast. Send the old ’uns. Never change a winning team.” ***** Clutching a huge and unwieldy bundle, a small boy went up to the officer | in charge of a barrage balloon. “What have you got there, my little man?” inquired the officer. The lad promptly put.down his bundle and began to unpack it. “Jam jars, mister. What abaht a balloon?” . * * * * * Chalked on the barrel of a heavy field gun travelling towards the English coast: “Hitler! We’re on our way. And this AIN’T no ruddy umbrella.” * * * * * “Quite sure you can cut your meat, dear?” asked the kindly hostess of the young evacuee. “Oh, yes, thank you,” replied the youngster. “We often have it as tough as this at home.” * * * * “Do you usually have grace before meals?” asked the hostess as the evacuated children sat down to their first dinner. “No, mam,” replied one, “but we don’t mind trying some.’ * * * * ✓ The little London evacuee billeted at a farmhouse looked at his breakfast egg, then pushed it aside. “What’s wrong, Jimmy?” asked his new “mother.” “Aren’t you going to' eat your egg?” , “No. ’faint a proper ’un, lidy,” said Jimmy. “Proper ’uns have ‘Denmark’ on them. This ain’t got nothin’ on it.”