HUMOUR

Hawke's Bay Herald-Tribune, Issue 137, 26 June 1937, Page 18

HUMOUR

- ^ ^ , . ^ 11 V"| mT ■ i Making Sure Old George had just'fihished planting' potatoes fbrthesquire. Last year hc h&d spoiled the crop by planting them too elosely, ^ \ , \ I . . . . j * 'How . have, you . put them; farther apart this time!" asked the squire. •"Aye, zuxl'^answered George. "They be fur'nuf apart.' "Some be in your -garden an 't' other 3 in my. allotment." $> $> S> ...... . ; .Tlattering , The nevr typist adjusted ber bair f or ' the thirtieth" time that morning; then , she -went to the cbief clerk and asked: . "Why.did you select me out of so many appKcants?'.' , '^Well, miw," he Teplied, "so many tj5gis1fc» have been leaving to get marlied.that the boss told me to choose the ■pSaineirt bBghter of the lotl " -•

A party -oi American tourists in a motoreoaeh wero being driyen among the mountains of Switzerland. "Say, where did thpse largo rocks come from?" asked the man nest- to the driver. uThe glaciers brought them down," replied the driver. "But where are the glaciers-?*' was the next question. "They've gone back to fetch mora rocks," was the weary reply.

Good-Nlght! While taMng his final look ropnd the : park just after dusk, a keeper saw a uian Btretched out on a seat. Taking the man by the shoulder, he shook him violently. "Hi, you!" he snapped. "I'm just about to close the gates." The man blihked wearily. "A11 right, old sporV he replied, "bnt don't slam them, will you!"

MacDonald had just arrivefl in New York from Glasgow and was taken on a sightseeing trip to the Zoo. Pointing to a herd in one of the enelosures, he asked: "And what might that animal be?"' To which his host replied: "That's a North American moose." The Scotsman opened his cyes widc in astonishment. "A North American moose! " he exclaimed. "Yes," said the host, "that's a North American moose." The visitor "grasped his, host by the arm and asked: "Hoots, mon, kin yo showme a North American rat?" $» & 5> ' » . Two gangsters were escorting a member of a rival gang across a field on a dark and Tainy night. "What skunks you are," grunibled the doomed onc, "making me walk through rain likc this." "How aboat us!" growlcd one oi' the escorifc. "We've got to walk back."