WIT AND HUMOUR

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LI, Issue 207, 22 August 1908, Page 4

WIT AND HUMOUR

NOT ABASHED.

monlv censori <>»3 people are comwa's^we'itw 3 ?, 0l } n 8 m -y client tag — u tLt bouVhT for "■»'- uiZonvJ "' B , he Vilili,;d oae of her "tint. ' """"A Sl *W"ford, without of lectures I '*'' from a voJu,M with me sL d tew** to bring ■olectrf «*«. »«"•»«! think I bad UotltoD for ? °'t h IIC1 '' J ' Ct l da *« (l 1,,. „( ' fear of seeming to make he oilence more pointed. So"on I« d , MUTUAL SURPRISE.

ling ge,lUeman were tra ™lThfv ° n an En S lisll railway. other Suddenly the gentleman said:- ! .f *"* y»u to look lam L\t tT d °, W for a few mi ™'<*; weTriin g pp^ keS<,mechan^-a^' lit.ff tai "^'' Bir '" she with podam J V Um . he said " "Now. madam my change is completed, and you may resume your seat." fl hen the lady turned she beheld her male companion transformed into a her face With a Wy veii ovcr i;i3' O,V '-? ir i 1 or , ,ua,km » whichever yon }ou to look out of the window, for 1 |appa!X« Somet ' aa^3tol » al --"'.V

" Certainly, madam," and the gentlepUed"' y " ttire humediat « l y com«.r^ OW '- i s « • ) ; 0u m& y resume j' ol "' scat, said the lady. To his great surprise, on resuming his seat the gentleman in female attire tound his lady companion transformed into a ,„,„„. He then laughed, and said: it appears that we are both anxious to avoid recognition. I have robbed a bank What have you done?" I, said the whilom ladv, as he dexterously fettered his companion's wnsts <'l am Detective J , 'of Scotland Yard, and in female apparel have shadowed you; Now"—drawine a revolver—"keep still."

A LIE THAT LOST A.FORTUNE.

iherc has never been, so far as wei know, a more remarkable instance jf a tangible and yet a fugitive wealth than of a fortune that ovaded the grasp of a relative of a friend of the writer's.! He was, many years ago, at school at Harrow, and returning along the road by the bathing-place— to Harrovians ' ducker"—politely went to the assistance of a stout farmer on horseback, m difficulties with a gate-lock. He opened the gate, and held it back for the rider to pass. "Thank you, my boy," said the farmer, one of the wealthy Middlesex graziers who own large tracts of the Harrow and Pinner rich meadow lands. "What may your name be?" "My name's Green," returned the boy, with an ill-timed burst of the imagination. "And what is your father?" "Oh, my father's a cheesemonger," said the smart scholar, chuckling internally at his ready wit, "and he lives in London at the Theobald's Road, rather a- small shop, with two steps leading , down out of the street."

"I'm very much obliged to you," replied the farmer, by no means—as it afterwards appeared—a man of straw. " You're a capital young chap. I sha'n't forget you." "Don't," was the scholar's final thrust. "Remember Green, and a cheesemonger in Theobald's Road." Then up the hill he went, almost as much pleased with himself as if he had been asked to play against Eton at Lord's.

What his feelings may have been when, ten years later, a young gentleman of the name of Green was advertised for, whose father kept a cheesemonger's shop in the Theobald's Road, and who, in return for politely opening a gate at Harrow, in the year 185—, was left a large legacy by the wealthy farmer, recently deceased—what his feel ings were, then none of his relatives cared to inquire too closely; but it was observed by all that from 'that hour the unhappy young man never lost an opportunity of insisting on the incalculable • blessings of the most rigid adherence to truth; of the disasters invariably incident to even a momentary deviation from which virtue he himself was n most marked and melancholy example. For neither was his name Green nor anything approaching it, nor had his father, even in the remotest fashion, been interested in cheese; indeed, as hi.i son has been heard pathetically to remark, in the smallest quantity it invariably disagreed with him. SHOWED HE WAS HONEST.

" You say you have confidence in the plaintiff, Mr. Sullivan?" " Yes, sir." '■ State to the Court, if you please, what caused this confidence.'" "'Why, you see, sir, there's allers reports 'bout eatin-house men, and I us :i to think—"

"Never mind what you think; tell us what you know."

" Well, sir, one day I goes down to Cooken's shop, and sez to the waiter, 'Waiter,' soz 1, 'give's a weal pie.' Well, just then Mr. Cookcn comes up, and, sez he, 'How do, Mr. Sullivan? What ye goin' to have!'" "'Weal pie,' says-I. 'Good,' sez he; 'l'll have one, tu'"; so he sets down an' eats one of his own weal pies right before me."

" Did that cause your confidence in him ?" " Y'es, indeed, sir; when an 'eatiu-housc-keepev sits down afore his customers an' deliberately eats one of his own weal pies, no man can refuse to feel confidence—it shows him to be an honest man." '

In a cemetery at Middlebury, Vermont, is a stone)* erected by a widow to her loving husband, bearing this inscription: "Rest in peace—until we meet again."

. Hobby is the son of a Methodist minister, and has- had "the- experience ot moving four times in the space of eight years' life. He disapproves strongy ot the itinerant system, which is the wile of the Methodist clergy. Some time ago an elderly minister was visiting Bobby's father, and directed his attention to the small boy, asking him many questions of a semi-theological • ature. Finally the course of the conversation turned to heaven, and Bobby was asked concerning the abode of the uie»t. • les, said the youngster, with a sign ot deep weariness, •■ 1 know. It's the last we're going to move to."

In the English club at Hongkong a white-haired old gentleman who had | come down from some northern port was sealed at dinner, when-ho suddenly became very excited. He had been brought a letter by a solemn-faced Chinese butler, and he saw something on the outside of the letter which sent him downstairs two steps at a time to interview the hall porter. When he came back he told us what was the matter. Tho.. hall porter had inscribed on the envelope in Chinese for the information of the butler: "This j 3 for the old baboon with white fur." Unfortunately for the hall porter, the little gentleman was a first-class scholar in the Chinese language.

, Lord North, once Premier of Great • Britain, often indulged in renl or sooin- ■ ing slumber. One day he said to a i friend at the beginning of a speccli on the British navy. "Barre will give us our naval history from the beginning, not forgetting Sir Francis Drake and I the Armada. Let me sleep on, and •wake me when he comes to our own time." At length the friend roused him, and North exclaimed: "Where are we now?" "At the battle of La Hogue, my lord." "Oh, my dear friend, vou have waked mo a, eonturv too soon!" On another occasion an opponent stopped in Hie middle of an invective to exclaim: "Even now, in the midst of these perils, the noble lord is asleep:" I "I wish. I were," rejoined the sleeper 'fervently,