SHORT STORIES.

Manawatu Herald, Volume XLII, Issue 2117, 20 April 1920, Page 4

SHORT STORIES.

Am American aviator took his coloured mechanic up for a joy ride. After “looping” and doing a few other “stunts,” the pilot dived, and the crowd scattered in all .directions. “I guess 75 per eerit. of those people down there had the wind up,” said (he pilot to his mechanic. “Ye-es, boss, and I g-guess 50 per cent, of de people up here had de wind up,” was the reply. “Yon must see my boy,” said the proud father. “Come upstairs. The nurse is just putting him to bed.” The (wo crept upstairs. Yes, the little fellow was saying his prayers. The two men remained silent. Then, as the dear curly-headed-little darling rose from his knees, the gueststepped forward and patted him on the head. “You said your prayers very vieely,” said the guest. The little boy looked up shyly, and then said stoutly, “Oh, that’s nothing. You should hear ■me gargle.” A certain minister was once preaching on the subject of “giving” at a small chapel, and during the sermon he rejoiced to note that a member of the congregation crept quietly out of his seal, and. going to the side of the chapel, placed a coin in a box. A little later another did the same. Never, thought the minister, had his sermons met with such a practical response before. On leaving Hie chapel he was accosted by one of the members.

“I hope we didn't dislurb you, sir,” ho said, “but ours is a penny-in-tbc-slot meter, and we should have been in darkness if we hadn’t attended to it.”

The retired colonel was passing the .summer at a seaside town. His wife being indisposed; lie volunteered to “carry on” for her. A ring at the tradesmen’s Loll warned him that (he local .fishmonger's assistant was expected. “Have you any mackerel?” he asked. “Xo, sir,” came the reply. Subsequent inquiries fur salmon, soles, or plaice met with an equally uncompromising negative. “But, why have you no fish?” demanded the soldier slornly. “Because I’m the greengrocer, sir,” stammered the astonished youth. Mrs Brown was at the hack of the church wailing to have her baby christened. Baby was get ling restless, so she beckoned the verge]-. “Is the sermon nearly finished?” she whispered. “Xo, mum,” replied Hie verger, “another half-hour of it yet. He’s only on his ‘lastly.’ ” “But,” said Mrs Brown, “will it take him half an hour to get through his ‘lastly’?” “Xo, mum,” was the demure reply, “hut there’s the ‘one more word and I'm done,' and the ‘finally,’ and the ‘in conclusion’ to cook- yet. .Don't be impatient.”