WIT AND HUMOUR.

Putaruru Press, Volume VII, Issue 303, 29 August 1929, Page 3

WIT AND HUMOUR.

Ha! Ha! Ha! 1 Pers.stent Woman Reporter: And ’ wi.a„ would y 7 ou ao lx you jumped , out of the aeropiane, anu your parachute would not open ? | k ed-up Av.a.or. uo back and get another one. j Memory. ‘ Small girl: I’ve forgotten what the i other thing was I came for. j Grocer: Was it cheese, bacon,.mar--1 garine, lard, tea, coffee, cocoa, sugar, jam, marmalade, biscuits, tinned fruit, bottled fruit, chutney, piccalilli, pot- ■ ted meat, bloater paste, baking powder, soap, soda, spice, rice, tapioca, | semolina, macaroni, currants, raisins, ( sultanas, candles, matches, eggs, eus- | tard powder, beans, peas, potatoes, onions, flour ? (Pauses for breath.) I Small girl: I remember now. It was can you te.l me the right time, • please ? j Truthful. [ Tramp (concluding tale of woe): | Yes, mum, and me only son is bedridden from birth, and not a bite o’ ■ solid food ’as ’6 ever been able to eat. j Lady: Dear, dear ! And how old I is he now ? ! Tramp: Six weeks, mum ! Brains. One day a small boy went into a butcher shop and asked for a sheep’s head. “ I’m sorry, sonny,” said the man with the striped apron, “ but I’ve so d right out. The only head I have in the shop to-day is my own.” “ I’m afraid that wouldn’t do,” said the small boy. “ Mother wants one with brains in ! ” Revenge. Little Winnie was a naughty girl, so her mother shut her in a bedroom upstairs. A few minutes later, when all was quiet, her mother knocked at the door and said:

“ Are you a good girl now, Winnie ? ” “ No, I’m not ! ” retorted the hurt one. “ I’ve spit on your best coat; I’ve spit on your best hat; I’ve spit on your best dress; and now I’m waiting for more spit S ” Not Flattering. “ Mother, shall I run out and post this letter ? ” asked a little girl of six years. Mother: “No, child; certainly not It’s pouring in torrents, and not fit for a dog to be out of doors. Your father will gp." Spoiled the job. Mrs Newly-wed (indignantly): I’ve to d you before to keep out of the kitchen, Dick ! Hubby: Why, what have I done now ? Mrs Newly-wed: You’ve knocked down my cookery book, and lost my place, and I haven’t the slightest idea what I was cooking.

I 1 Not a Chicken. A certain surgeon, very young, and also rather shy, was invited to a ! dinner party given by a woman of at J least fifty years, but who behaved more like twenty. At dinner sb* asked the young man to carve the t tucken, and, never having carved a chicken before, he fai.ed miserably in his attempt. Instead of trying to cover his confusion, the hostess called attention to it by looking down the table and saying: “Well, you may be a clever surgeon, but if I had to have a leg cut off, I would not come to you for the operation.” “ No,” he replied, politely; “but then you are not a chicken.” Absent-minded. A man entered a restaurant to order a meal. “ Bring me a tankard of ale and a real y good, tasty fish,” he said to the waiter. “ Fillet, sir ? ” asked the waiter. “ Yes,” said the customer, absentmindedly, “ right up to the brim.” A Bit in Advance. Mother (in the year 1990): You’ll really have to speak to Willie. He’s been flying back and forth across the Atlantic all the afternoon, and he won’t get that rice I wanted from China for dinner. , A Bit Puzzling.

Casey, who had been out fishing, was telling some of his friends of the day’s eaten, and, winding up, he sad: And ivery wan of us wint away with fifteen foine b.ack fish on his string. “ How many fish did you catch in all ? ” some one asked. “ Sixty,” rep ied Casey. “ and there ’ were four of us.” “ Who were they ? ” “ Well I was wan, and the two Kellys was two, and Finnegan was three, and—Finnegan, he was three, and—l’m sure there were four of us! But who the d.vil was the other fellow ? ” Casey began again. “ Try it this way,” he said. “ Finnegan was wan, the two Kellys was two, and I was three, and—- and I’m blowed if I can think who was the other wan.” Then Casey laid down his fish am began counting off the members o; the fishing party on his fingers. “ I was wan,” he sad, doubling up . finger as he went along, “and the two Ke lys was two, and Finnegan was three—” “ But the two Kellys were three,” broke in someone. “ Do you know the two Kellys ? ” asked Casey. “ Well then, how can ye say the two Kellys was three ? Go on man, you’re drunk ! " Casey s’ood thinking over it for a minute and then picked up his string j of fish. “ I’Vn dommed,” he said, “if the ras- J

I cals didn’t do me out of—three goes | into s xty twenty times—out of five 1 fishes.” A Feast! He: Every time I kiss you it makes me a better man. She: Well, you don’t have to try to get to heaven in a night! A Bit Disconcerting. In a large country town, a wellknown widower of four years’ standing. successfully courted a spinster also well-known. When the wedding took place, instead of say ng the usual things in response to the toast to the happy couple, the bridegroom spoke at great length of the sterl ng virtues of his first wife, and wound up by asking his new wife and all the guests to stand with bowed heads for two minutes’ silence in respect to the memory of the dear departed!

“ Green Apples.” _ Joyce: Pa, those trees are all bent . over. I Pa: So would you be if you were full of green apples. Phil enters, bending over in pain. Pa: Goodness, boy! You’re all bent over! Phil: So would you be if you were full of green apples! Answered. P *•: -r; T A matron of the most determined character was encountered by a young canvasser. “May I see Mr. —? ” he asked of Ihe stern-!ook:ng woman who opened the door at the house. “ No, you can’t,” answered the matron decisively. “ But I want to know to what party he belongs? ” pleaded the man. The woman drew up her tall figure. “ Well, take a good look at me.” she • commanded. «r m the party he belongs to! ”