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Poverty Bay Standard, Volume IX, Issue 1015, 22 December 1881, Page 3

A gentleman in the Strand met a rather uncertain acquaintance the other day, when the latter said—“ I’m a little short and would like to ask you a conundrum in mental arithmetic.” “Proceed, ” observed the gentleman. “Well, ’’said the “short” man, “ suppose you had ten shillings in your pocket, and I should ask you for five, how much would remain ?” “ Ten shillings, ” was the prompt answer. A big, fat coloured woman went to the Galveston chief of police and told him that her step-son had run away, and she wanted to know where he was. “ It bodders me to know why he left. He had every thing he needed to make him cumfable. I done all I could for him, ” she observed. “ Has he any marks by which he may be recognised ?” “Well, I don’t reckon all de marks I made on him with a bed-slat, while de old man was holdin’ him has faded out yet.” I w'onder what has become of the scissors, said Mrs Johnson the other day; “ I have been looking for them all the evening, and can’t find them high or low.” After a while the hired Dutchman commenced pulling off his boots, preparatory to going to bed. “Ail dis day,” said he, “ I tink I got some little grabble stones in my poot. 1 kess I kit him out know.” When he turned up his boot, all that he could find in it was a thimble, a pair of scissors, half a loaf of bread, and a few dozen tacks.— San Francisco NewsLetter.

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