A JEST OR TWO

Sun (Auckland), Volume 1, Issue 50, 21 May 1927, Page 22 (Supplement)

A JEST OR TWO

Already Proclaimed.—Jones: “Brown is engaged, then. Are the banns up yet?” Green: “Yes. I think the banns are up all right. His fiancee has forbidden him to go to football matches, to clubs, or in ptiblic-houses.” * * * One Is Enough.—Canvasser: “I'm sure you’ll support our candidate, Mrs. Smithers.”

Mrs. Smithers: “That I’ll not, then. I’ve supported me ’usband for ten years, and that’s all the supportin’ I’m going’ to do.”

The Same Way.—“ Darling, she said, breathlessly, “one feels as we speed along that life is really and truly worth living.” “Yes,” he replied, “And, judging from the way the pedestrians dodge us, they feel that way too.”

The Turf.—Wife: “What’s a turf commission agent, dear? You dropped a card belonging to one on the bedroom floor this morning.” Husband: “That was careless. I —er —intended it to be a surprise for you. You were complaining about the lawn, you know, so I decided to get it returfed.”

Did He Want More?—The husband, returning late, was considerably surprised to receive a warm embrace from his wife.

“Ah!” he exclaimed, “you never kiss me except when you want money.” “Well.” she returned, “isn’t that often enough ?”

Very Likely.—Uncle (reading the story of the Princes in the Tower): “And they put them under the staircase, and they weren’t discovered .for a long time.’’ Jimmy: “But didn’t the gas man find them when he came for the pennies?” * * * Not Very Promising.—She was a very busy woman and found it most disturbing and irritating when one day she was bitten by a dog. But, despite her accident, she carried on bravely with the work in her department. Then a fresh trouble arose —people in the same business kept worrying her with senseless questions. ; “Fancy, were you bitten by a mad dog ?” “Yes, I was.” “And yet you’re working here just the same. Writing your will, I suppose?” “No,” snapped the injured woman: “I'm making a list of the people I'll bite if I do go mad.” * * * Why He Objected. —Bunderby held a very high position in the town’s affairs and he was very annoyed on reading a I certain paragraph in the local paper. In the afternoon he called on the editor and demanded an apology for the offensive item. “You said,” he explained, “that I had resigned from the town council and intended retiring from business into private life.” “But.” protested the editor, “all that is quite true—” “Quite,” interrupted Bunderby. “But what gets my goat is the fact that you printed it under the heading, ‘Public Improvements.’ ” ♦

Different.—On a cold night in winter a man sat huddled over a meagre fire. His pipe had burnt out and he had read through the newspaper. Suddenly he sat up stiff, turned half round and yelled in a voice of thunder: “Shut that confounded kitchen door! Are you mad? Shut that door, you loon, or—” But a person had walked into the room. It was the cook. In a stern voice she addressed the angry man: “D’ye know who you’re spakin’ to, sorr?” “Oh, I beg your pardon, Bridget!” he stammered in a crushed way. “I thought it was my wife.’ * * * Agony of Suspense.—A lone figure paced nervously up and down the darkened corridor. He stopped from time to time to listen to the noise of the men struggling inside, and then turned away to walk again. He clenched his moist hands in a feverish intensity, and when the sound of the conflict of the swaying men rose in volume he trembled from head to foot. At last he stopped his mad stalking, and as though drawn by some irresistible force, crept cautiously along the darkened hall to the brilliantly lighted doorway. He hesitated on the threshold in an agony of indecision, and then plunged recklessly across the floor to the spot he knew so well. He grabbed the wooden club with a mad delight. Quickly he raised it aloft —with deft h4nd he flourished it in the air and then swung downward with a swift crash. There was a great roar, a dull rumbling thud, and then silence. All at once the auditorium was filled with applause, and the little man breathed contentedly. The symphony’s drum player had got in his one beat for that night. * * * Could She Only Know.—lt was funny about Helen. She couldn’t understand it; she couldn’t imagine what was the matter with her. Even her friends wouldn’t tell her what was the great barrier between her and popularity—why everyone avoided her after the first meeting. Exceedingly pretty, sweet as a sugar cane plantation, golden hair, eyes that told a story, lips that held a perpetual invitation. An engaging personality, normal-sized ears and charm personified. Her parlour sported an alluring sofa and but one dim light. If she was intelligent, she knew how to deprecate the liability. Everyone knew why Nelson broke off with her; it was a thing even he wouldn’t tell jier about. Everyone knew but Helen. She was in the dark, wondering what it was all about. She would have given anything to have found out what it was in her that repulsed them all. But no one ever hinted at the horrible truth. That’s just the insidious thing about having false teeth that jump about when one talks.

PASSING SHOTS

Hearts of hoax are our flirts. * * * A good wife is never a miss. All novels are bound to sell. * * * The married man who hesitates is bossed. An angler depends on his rod and lyin’. * * * True lovers are few but not very far between. * * * Too much cuddling in cinemas is waisted energy. * * * To a bus-conductor a plain girl is always fare. When singleness is bliss ’tis folly to be wives. Milkmen adulterating their wares are sometimes quart in the act. The afternoon caller soon finds out that society ladies have their ins and outs. A coal merchant’s ways are dark when his weights are light. A woman’s life is one long darn and mend and sew on for ever. ** . * Many employees on the Underground marry above their stations. * * * Many a man is detained at his club first by “o*ne” and then by “another.”

Members of a church choir often marry each other after meeting by chants.

Thick hair may be a sign of brains, but bald men always come out on top.

For such a little chap Cupid does a lot of mischief, but you cannot always judge by sighs.

Some girls waste money on expensive perfumes, whilst others have more common scents.

Uncle Tom’s Bungalow. Revised version—“ Eliza crossed the river last evening. She used an eight-beat crawl stroke and was paced by a row-boat in which a small boy encouraged her from time to time by singing Mammy songs.”

The Wrong Time.—Foreman: Wot’s up, Bill, ’urt yerself? Bill: No, gotta nail in me boot. Foreman: Why doncher take it out, then ? Bill: Wot! In me dinner hour!

THE WINNER LOSES

“Ah, me,’ exclaimed tlie hen-pecked “When all is said and done, ’Tis better to have loved and lost Than to have loved and won.’ Against the Rule.—Wife (angrily): “Just look at the time! This morning you got home at two o’clock, and here it is again after midnight!” Husband: “Well, you know, m’dear, it’s against my rule to come home twice the same day.” * * * Common-sense.—lkey was very slow in learning to subtract, and the teacher was having a trying time with him “Now, see here, Ikey,” said she, patiently, “if Ikey had eight pennies and he lost three, how many pennies would Ikey have left?” “Veil,” was the quick reply, “for vy should Ikey lose three pennies?”

A Scrap of Paper.—Mrs. Young Bride—Oh, Harry, you’ve d-d-deceived me! We’re not legally married! Her Husband: But, Marjorie! What makes you think that?

Mrs. 1 oung Bride: I took our marriage certificate to the bank and they wouldn’t lend me a cent on it!

J he A am , e Sort.—Smith: Blank just lefused to lend me £2 to help me out of a hole; I didn’t think there were such mean men in the world. Jones:” Oh, there are, my dear fellow, I can assure you; I’m another.

Perhaps So.—Maudie Brown was very excited as she dashed into the office after lunch. “I say. old thing,” she said to her office companion, “may I borrow one of your evening frocks? I’ve just had an invitation to dinner and a theatre.” Margery Grace looked up from? her typing. “But are we the same size?” she queried. “Well, figuratively speaking, yes,” was Maudie’s reply.

Poisoned Dagger.—He—“The man who married Ethel got a prize.” She—“ What was it?” Pathetic Handicap.—Rich little girl (seeing some poorly cared for children go by)—“Poor little things! They can oave no nurses—only mothers.” Call the S.P.C.A.—“Willie, if you don’t 'go to bed this instant. Papa’s going to tell you a bedtime story.” L i n ge r i e N o te. —Teacher—“ What does unaware mean?” Susie: “It’s the last thing you take off at night.” A Ribbon and a Smile. —Husband: “That is a pretty sash for your new dress.” Wife: “Silly! That’s the dress.” Last Trump for Pedestrians:. “Mali bredren,” shouted Parson Potluck, “yo’ want t’ be ready to jump when yo’ heahs Gabriel blow dat horn.” “Fo’ goodness sake!” murmured Brother Simpson, “am he a-comin’ in er autymobeel?” Fame for Some Bacteriologist: The news that lipsticks carry microbes doesn’t seem to have impressed the public much. Now, if it could be proved that microbes carry lipsticks. Golden Opportunity: “By the way, I met Dupont. His wife is very hoarse and can’t sing.” “Oh, what about inviting them both to dinner to-night?” Youthful Opportunist: A very small boy was trying to lead a big St. Bernard up the road. “Where are you going to take that dog, my little man?” inquired a passer-by. “I —I’m going to see where—where he wants to go first,” was the breathless reply.

A.ngel Footprints: A contractor who professed to be fond of children became very angry because some little fellow stepped on a new pavement fore it was dry.

His wife rebuked him. “I thought you loved children,” she said. “I do in the abstract, but not in the concrete,” he replied. Precaution.—With hand on his heart, Reggie sank upon one knee before the pretty girl. “Darling, will you consent to be my bride?” he exclaimed fervently. “I’m sorry, Reggie, but I’m afraid I cannot,” replied the girl sympathetically. “Very well, then; please don’t tell Dolly Perkins that I asked you first, will you?” exclaimed Reggie, readjusting the crease in his trousers. The Faithful Fireman.—On the concert programme of one of the larger orchestras not long since was Beethoven’s “Leonore” overture, the two climaxes of which are each followed by a trumpet passage offstage. The first climax came, but not a sound from the trumpet. The conductor, considerably annoyed, went on to the second. Again there was silence. This time, the overture being finished, he rushed into the wings. There he found the trumpet player still arguing with the house fireman. “I tell you, you can’t play that thing back here!” the latter was saying. “There’s a concert going on.”

Be Original.—He stopped the car. “A little kiss,” he pleaded. “No.” she said. “Emphatically no. lam not that kind of a girl. Do you expect every girl you take out to kiss you ?” “On the contrary,” he retorted. “All I expect of any girl is that she sit still and look interested.” “That’s a new one,” she demurred. “Kiss me, my big hero.” His Request.—Judge: “You are both found guilty. Have you anything to say before I pass sentence? Male Prisoner (henpecked): “I’d very much like .you to postpone my dear wife’s term till after I come out.” Very Bad.—“Oh, my bad memory!” exclaimed the professor, at a reception. “Well,” asked his friend, “and what trick has it been playing you now?” “Why, I loathe these crowded functions, and intended to forget that I was expected to be present, yet here I am—having forgotten to forget!.”