AFTER THE CHRISTMAS DINNER

Gisborne Times, Volume XXVII, Issue 2693, 24 December 1909, Page 3 (Supplement)

AFTER THE CHRISTMAS DINNER

Bright Things of All Times That People Have Enjoyed

BERNARD SHAW AT A MUSICALS. Bernard Shaw, who is not overfond of music, happened to he beguiled to a mitbicalo given by a prominent London society woman, who, during the evening, found the author sitting disconsolate and bored in a corner of the room. '., • - “Now, really, Mr Shaw,” said the hostess, “don’t you think this orchestra plays beautifully ? These men have been playing: together for eleven years.” , . , “Eleven years ?■”. repeated Shaw. “Haven’t- we been here longer than that?”. SILENCE FOLLOWED. “Dear,” said the young wife, “I just can’t wait till Christmas to tell you wliat I’ve got yon for a present.” “Well,” replied the husband, “what is it?” . r J “I’ve got a.new rug to put in front of my dressing-table, and a bronze statuette for the ,parlor mantel,” was the answer. f ‘Now, what are you going to get me?” “Well,” said he contemplatively, “how about getting you a new sbav-ing-mug and a razor ?” CHRISTMAS DINNER RIVALS. “We had a turkey for dinner yesterday,” said Willie. ’ “Umphl” said Johnny, “ive had the minister.” „ [■ SUCH A JOLLY GOOD WISH. A belated travelling man was obliged to suend Christmas Day at a country inn, and the good lady of the house was much distressed because he failed to partake heartily of the feast. “Oh, please do eat,” she said finally, “eat till you bust—l wish you would —indeed.” IT TASTED SO GOOD, BUT— / “Are you the ‘Answers to Correspon. dents’ editor?” inquired the pale, dys-} peptic-looking caller at a publishing j house, on the day after Christmas. / “I am,” replied the lady addressed, j “What can I do for you? 5 ’ { “First,” answered the man, “what j will dissolve a chunk of lead .in the human stomach? Second, won’t you please refrain from publishing recipes for plum pudding next Christmas?” THE WAY HE FELT ABOUT IT. While several young ladies were discussing novel plans for a Christmas bazaar, a new member of the committee proposed to have the .pastor’s photograph reproduced on pillow tops and “chance” them off. All the girls voiced their approval at once, but when the plan was suggested to the parson he objected. •‘I really cannot consent,” said he; “I’ve been sat on enough as it is.” THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS. As father was leaving the house Christmas morning he looked in vain for hisuimbrella. “I spec’ sister’s beau took it last night,” ventured six-year-old Willie. “Oh, you naughty boy,” said Sister Mabel'; “how can you say that?” “Well, it’s the truth,’’ Willie insisted. “When he was saying, good-night I heard him say, ‘I am going to steal just one’ !”

“And did you have Ohritsmas music at the church P” asked the brother just returned for the holidays. “Wal, no,” said the squire, “can’t say we did —jest singin’ by the choir.”

“So you once lived-in Africa, Samp” was asked of the applicant for position of cook. “Yes, sail.” .. “Ever db any missionary work out there, Sam?” ■ “Oh, yes, sab; I wa s cook for a cannibal chief, sail.”

“Do you ever drink anything?” asked a somewhat bashful young man of his adored one, as they passed near a soda fountain.

“Urn!” responded Miss Bright, “is that an inquiry or an invitation?”

A QUIET JOKER

Wandering over a field oije day a man came across a large stone inscribed: “Turn, me over.” After much difficulty lie succeeded in turning it over and found on the under side of the stone the words: “Now turn me back again, so that I can catch some other idiot.” HAD HIS SUSPICIONS. Willie Slimson: “Mamma, does Santa Claus get in his sleigh on Christmas Evb and drive around to. all the houses of the little boys and girls?” Mrs Slimson: “Yes, dear.” Willie: “And does he stop at each chimney and leave just the right things?” Mrs Slimson: “Yes, dear.” Willie: “He must be pretty quick to visit all the little boys and girls in one night.” Mrs Slimson: “He is, dear.” Willie (thoughtfully): “I don’t believe he doe s it in that way.”. Mrs Slimson: “How do you think he does it?” Willie: “I think he plans ahead and does some of the work beforehand.” Mrs Slimson: “What makes you think so?” Willie: “Well, I notice that he’s got all my presents put away in one of the cupboards already.” OH OKING HIM OFF. Mr Stingee wag rather proud of his own .particular method of dealing with his numerous Christmas callers, until the following little incident occurred. Following his usual custom, he opened the door himself, and allowed the urchin to begin. Tins is exactly what followed: Urchin: “Wish you a merry Christmas, sir!” Mr S.: “Just so!” Urchin: “An’ a ’appy New Year!” Mr S.: “Just so!” Urchin (doubtfully): “An’—an’ —all the rest of it, sir!” Mr S.: “Just so!” There was an impressive silence, and Mr S. flattered himself that he had crushed the young hopeful. But he hadn’t. “S’y, guv’nor,” exclaimed the urchin, “it wouldn’t hurt yer very much to say ‘Same to yer,’ would it? If yer are poor, yer caii at least be perlite!” By the time Mr S. had recovered his breath his visitor had swaggered down the steps. PRACTICAL. It was the dreamy hour when the Christmas dinner, having been eaten, is doing its best to digest itself, and the girls were talking in the hushed tones appropriate to the occasion. “I’ve just heard of a new charm/to tell whether anyone loves you; and, if so. who it is,” whispered Elsie. “What is it?” queried Sophie, absently fingering a new diamond ring. “Well, you take four or five chest- ■ nuts, name them each after some man | you know, and then put them on the l_ stove, and the first one that pops is the one that loves you.” “H’m!” said Sophie. “I know a better way than that.” “Do you?” “Yes, indeed. By m v plan you take one particular man, place him on the sofa in the parlor, sit close to him "with the light a little low, and look into his eyes. And then, if he doesn’t pop, you’ll know it’s time to change the i man on the sofa.”

JUST AS GOOD, ONLY DIFFERENT. Henry Ward Beecher was a great admirer of P. T. Barnum, and always took a front seat when lie attended Barnum’s circus. Then it happened one day that Mr Beecher saw Mr Barnum enter his church and take a back seat. Immediately Mr Beecher sought him out. “You must come right up here in front, Mr Barnum. I always take a front seat when I come to your circus, and I want you to do the same when you come to mine.” MA MEANT WELL, ANYWAY. . A young woman in Central Park overheard an old negress call to a piccaninny : “Come b.ack, Exy, Exy!” “Excuse me,” said the young woman, “but isn’t that a queer name for a baby, Aunty?” ! ’■ “Dat ain’t her full name,” explained the old woman with pride; “dat’s jes’ de pet name I cal fer short. Dat chile got a mighty grand name. Her ma picked it out in a medicine book. Yessum, de chile’s full name is Eczema.” EASILY EXPLAINED. An old lady who was a passenger on one of the ocean , liners seemed- very much more afraid of the icebergs than of fogs or storms, and asked tfie Cap- j tain what would happen in ease of a collision: . “ “Madam,” the Captain replied, bowing low, “the iceberg would move rights along in its course just is if nothing had happened.” . And the old lady, seemed greatly-re-lieved. NOT DRESSED FIT FOR THE PARTY.

GOT HIM. It wa s the day after Christmas and the hardworking postman ploughed his way through the snow 7 and cold winds, a sack of unusual size on liis back. He ascended- the spacious steps of a West End residence, and, in answer to his ring, a. man-servant in rich hverv appeared. ■ “Wait a minute, please,” said the servant, as he took the' letters. “Tlie mistress wishes to speak to you.” The postman’s Cye brightened. It was the, holiday season. He had done ;hi R duty with fidelity. Now, no doubt., in' recognition of his regular and faithfU“l shall be glad,” he said politely, “to await your mistress’s pleasure.” In a few minutes the lady appeared. “Are you,” she asked, “our regular postman ?” .-s , -s “Yes, madam,” he answered, bowing. „ . ' “Do you come in the morning? ? “Yes. madam.” j “And in the afternoon and evening?” / , , Again lie assented, smiling eagerly. Then, the lady said: / “Well, was it you who broke our hell?”

A proud young housekeeper who had been presented Tyith a piece of statuary was giving a party one evening in Christmas week. Shortly before the guests arirved she lokoed through the rooms to see that everything was m order. Missing the Venus from ’ its place on the hall pedestal, she asked the old butler what had been done with “Miss Weeny, you mean, ma’am?” he replied. . “Yes the-Venus. Where is it? “Welly now, Miss Margit. ma am, excuse me, ma’am, hut I "l®®— thought as gemnlens was expected dis evenin I’d better set Miss Weeny under the staihs.”-

“Well,” murmured the mince-pie from the shop, as it nestled cheek by jowl with the jChristmas pudding, “though We’ve got to be eaten we bring happiness and Christmas goodwill With US.” “Oh, I don’t .know!’ growled the pudding. “Even that consolation is denied me. The woman who made me has only been married two months, and I’m her first attempt!

EARNING CHRISTMAS PENNIES. “Do you know where Johnny Locke lives, my little boy ? ,J asked a gentlevoiced old lady. . . “He ain’t borne, hut if you give ; me a penny I'ir find him for. you right off,” replied the lad. w “All right, you’re a nice little boy, Now, where is he?”' “Tanksr— l’m him.”

A Christmas custom once practised all over England, but now,: rarely seen, is the performance on Christmas Eve of the play of “St. George and the Dragon.” ' - ■ 1 ,

“What do you mean by keeping me R+andinff on the corner like an idiot? demanded an angry husband, whose wife had kept him .waiting ; to. go Christmas Chopping with. her. “Now, really, Dear,” .she,, replied sweetly, “I can’t .help th e way,you standi” / ;■; : ■ -U"' - •

Robby: “Mamma, if Santa. Claus is such a good man; why does he give so many more presents to rich children than' he does to the poor ones? Mother: “Because it takes so much more to piease a rich child than it does a, poor one, my son.” « : -• w

‘/Oh Freddie,, don’t you-think you ve had enough ice cream? said Aunt Mary after him a second time. “No’m; I don t feel sick yet.

\ voting theologian named Fiddle Refused to accept.lns degree; “Fo«” said he, “’tis . enough to bo : without being Fiddle D.D.” ~ y - : ■ ; ;; . / 7 '