In Lighter Vein.

Te Aroha News, Volume XIV, Issue 2072, 29 January 1898, Page 2

In Lighter Vein.

‘These are the fburpenny cigars,, and these the sixpenny. What’s ttm difference ? ?1 ‘ The two-pence, sir !’ Steward (ex-waiter on his. first voyage) Yessir, certainly, sir—a basin ?• Yessir. A basin of soup, sir ? (Collapse of the'passenger.) At a restaurant:—Jones : Who arethose two young fellows over there?* Waitress : Well, one of them is a. student, and the other, hasn’t any money either. ‘■Well,, old man, I think I’d bettergo home. My wife will raise a frightful row, even as it is.’’ ‘ Why don’t you. do as I do. when you find you have stayed out too late ?’ ‘ What do you. do?’ ‘I just- keep, on staying out until I know she is frightened and wilt be overjoyed to see me.! Niagara Hotel Guest: This hill isn’t right. You charge me for look-, ing at the falls 12 times when there weretwo days that I didn’t leave the hotel on. account of rain,’ Proprietor : Can’t help that, sir. The ,falls were there.. You can’t run a hotel here and not charge for : rainy days. Fond mother : Yes, sir;. I have a. little fellow who is only ten, and yet he writes, beautiful, poetry. Old Editor: Well, there’s some hope for ’em when you catchem young ;■ you- can whip it out of ’em easier than !

Little James had been imparting to the minister the important and cheer--ful information that his father had got a now set of false teeth.' Indeed, James ? replied the minister, indulgently. And what will he do with the old set ?• Oh, I s’pose, replied little James, they’ll cut ’em down.and make me wear’em,.. First Father: Ah ! sons are vei;yungrateful.. I have sent mine to col-, lege. I write to him every week, hut he- never has time even- to send me a post-card to say how he is getting on. Second Father Oh !. I can always get a letter from my son. First Father : How? Second Father: Well! I write, to him, sayin ‘ Dear John, I enclose ten pounds- First Father : Well? Second Father : ‘Well l I don’t enclose it, that’s all.’A traveller passing t|jk gates of Farrmgford, the residence of- the late Poet Laureate, asked, we are told in the memoirs of the poet ‘ Whose house is mis ? ‘ Nobody’s in particular,’ the driver replied. ‘ But whose is it ?’ he persisted. ‘Mr Tennyson’s,’ was the surly_ response. ‘Do you call him nobody ? He is a great man.’ Thereupon the driver exclaimed, with freezwl c ° ntem P fc > ‘ He a great man l Why, he only keeps oue man, and h© don t even sleep in the house!.’