NOTHING SERIOUS.

King Country Chronicle, Volume V, Issue 383, 2 August 1911, Page 7

NOTHING SERIOUS.

WANTED—AN INTERPRETER

It was a case of assault, r.n.l the literally down-troden wife was laying her grievances before th? magistrate.

"He started by giving me a biff on the nnt !" explained the an;.;ry comDlainant.

"My good woman," rebuked the magistrate, "you mustn't talk like that here ! I suppose you mean he gave, you a blow on the head ?" "Yus, yer washnp ! An' then 'c tried ter do me in by chuckin' 'is baccy-bos at me !" "By which I presume you mean," interposed the J.P. severely, "that he tried to injure you by precipitating his bos of tobacco at you ? Pray proceed, and avoid slang, and inform the Court what other injuries he inflicted upon you." "Well, then, he —er—he—" "Come, come !" snapped the magistrate, really beginning to lose his temper. '"Don't waste the time of the Court !" The ill-used wife looked about her helplessly. "Excuse me, yer washup," she exclaimed at length ; "but I was wondering what was the pet name in this 'ere court for a biff on the jib."

THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN. The millionaire was officially announced to be convalescent, but he begged respectfully to diiler. Nothing is more annoying than being told that "there is nothing wrong with you' when you have shooting pains up pour arms, legs, and back, and a head like an earthquake. "Well," croaked the millionaire one norning, "how do you find me now — eh ?"

"You're going on finely !" responded the physician, rubbing his hands together with an air of satisfaction. "Your legs are still swollen ; but that doesn't trouble me." "Of course it doesn't !" howled the millionaire. "And let me tell you this —if your legs were swollen it wouldn't trouble me in the least, either !"

A NARROW ESCAPE. "It is an established fact," said the lecturer, with lantern-slides, special tip-up seats, 3/, or for the course of six, 15/.—"it is an established fact that thsi sun is gradually but surely losing Its beat, and in the course of some seventy million years it will be exhausted ; consequently, this world of ours will be dead, and, like the moon, unable to support any

form of life." There was a sound as of t.li 3 pushing back of a chair on the bare boarded floor. Then the hrad and shoulders of an excited member o) the audience rose above those of his fellows.

"Pardon me, professor !" he cried, his eyes starting from his head. "How many years did you say it would be before this calamity overtakes us ?"

"Seventy millions, sir," said, the professor. "Thank Heaven !" gasped the in terrogator, sinking back exhausted into his seat. "I thought you said seven millions !"