Wit and Humour.

Gisborne Times, Volume XXVII, Issue 2461, 27 March 1909, Page 9 (Supplement)

Wit and Humour.

The Bride: “I want a piece of moat without any bone, fat or gristle.” The Butcher: “Madame* I think yoa’d better have an egg.”

Father: “But tell me, Alfred, how could you fail again?” Son: “Well, you see, we had anothor examination.”

Mr Singerly: “Do you know, that new' tun© just haunts mo.” . Mrs Singcrly f “No wonder—after the way you’ve murdered it!”

Louie: “Uncle, what’s chagrin?” Uncle: “Well, ith what a stout man feels who runs and jumps on a car that doesn’t start for half an hour.”

Tho Visitor: “So Poor Guffer’s gone at last. What finished him off?” something

The Late' Comer (anxiously): “How far havo they got with the programme?”

Major Stymie (an ardent golfer) “Seven up and two to play.”

“Havo you ever visitetd Sorrento?” asked Mrs Oldcastle. “No,” replied her hostess, as she tossed her 30,000d01. tiara upon the inlaid centre table, “is she a medium or just,a palm reader?”

Medium (impressively): “It’s the spirit of your late husband, madam. He wishes to speak to you.’” Mrs Peck: “It can’t be poor Henry; he never had no Bpirit.”

The Magistrate (who suffers from indigestion) : “Well, have you anything to say?” Drunk and Disorderly: “Yus; I objects to being sentenced by a fellow with a nose like yourn.”

The Boy: “800-hoo! Bobbie’s swallowed my little engine!” The Caller: “Good gracious! How could that happen?” The Boy: “We was on the floor playing at- trains, and he was tho tunnel.”

The Spinster: “Why don’t you marry, Mr Scratch?” He: “I’m t-oo nervous, and ;* faint heart never won a fair lady.” The Spinster (coyly): “Y r es, but I’m dark.”

Visitor (inspecting the new baby): “Can’t your husband suggest a name for the little pet?”

Mother: “Yes; lie calls him several different names every night, but I’m afraid none of them would do!”

“I have written a book that everybody ought to read,” said the author. “I’m afraid it won’t do,” answered tho publisher. “What the public seems to want is a book that nobody ought to read.”

“What’s become of old Hugh Bixlev?” asked the- man who has returned after an absence of several years. “Ob, he’s joined the great majority.” “What do you mean ? Is he dead, or has he merely gone to the ball game ?

Mrs Newnich: “Are you Mr Easel Mr E. : “Yes, madam.” “The painter of miniatures?” “Yes, madam.” . “What’ll you charge to paint a lifesized miniature of my daughter?

Mabel (testing the wisdom of the grown-ups): “Well, how did Martin Luther die?” Uncle Jim: “Dio? Oh, in the ordinary way, I suppoe.” Mabel: “Ob, Uncle! you really don't know anything. He was excommunicated by a bull.”

A young w'ornan entered a crowded street-car with, a pair of skates on ber arms. An elderly gentleman at once arose and offered his seat. “Thank you very much,” she flam, sweetly, “but I don’t care about sitting down; I’ve been skating all afternoon.”

Jones had had an unusual amount of work to do, and it was long after midnight when he started upstairs to bed. He walked on tiptoe, but in spite of his cautiousness his wife heard him and half awakened. “Is that you, John?” she aked.

“Yes, dear.” “Are you sure?” she demanded; and then she. wondered why he seemed annoyed.

Whilo out walking one day the late Joel Chandler Harris met an unusually large number of acquaintances who commented conventionally upon tie fine weather. This got on Harm s nerves; and when greeted at the office with, “Nice day, Mr Harris,” ho smiled sardonically. >’ _ ~ , - “Yes,” he agreed. “Yes, Ive heard it very highly spoken of .

The Customer: “When I bought a car from you a few weeks ago you said you would bo willing to supply a new part if I broke anything. The Motor Agent: “Certainly, sir. What can I have tho' pleasure of providing you with?” . Tho Customer: “I want a pair of new ankles, a floating rib, a loft eye, three yards of cuticle, a box of assorted finger nails, four molars, two bicuspids, and a funny-bone*”