Mrs. Newly: “If I wasn’t afraid baby was sick I do believe I should spank him.”
Mr. Newly: “Well, let’s make sure. You begin spanking and I’ll go for the doctor.”
“Shall I dissolve another pearl in the chalice for your breakfast?’ asked Charmion.
“No,” replied Cleopatra. “Pearls are too inexpensive and commonplace. Boil me an egg.”
“Pa, what is a near-humorist?”
“A near-humorist, son, is a person who says, when he finds an oyster in a stew, ‘Well, well, little stranger, what are you doing here?’”
Only Name for a Hog
One day a number of children in the parlor were talking over the difficulty Adam must have had in finding names for all the animals. The littlest girl did not speak for some time but when she did she said: “Except with the hog. Anybody would know what to call that!”
An X-Ray View
“Everyone has some secret sorrow,” says a philosophizing friend. “Even the fattest and jolliest of us has a skeleton in his midst.”
“You ought to be contented and not fret for your old home,” said the mistress, as she looked into the dim eyes of her young Swedish maid. “You are earning good wages, your work is light, everyone is kind to you, and you have plenty of friends here.”
“Yas’m,” said the girl; “but it is not the place where I do be that makes me vera homesick; it is the place where I don’t be.”
As Willie Read It
It was the class in the second reader, and little Willie had just been called upon to rise and take up the reading where Martha had left off. Willie stood at attention, his book held in the proper position before him, clutched the corner of his desk with his free hand, swallowed hard, and read:
“This is a warm doughnut. Step on it.”
“What!” gasped the teacher. “Willie, that is not correct. Read it again.”
Willie did, with the same result. Moreover, he maintained stoutly that that was what his book said.
So teacher had him bring it to her. Perhaps there had been a misprint, and –
But this is what the teacher read in Willie’s book:
“This is a worm. Do not step on it.”
“When you proposed to me you said you were not worthy of me!”
“Well, what of that?”
“Nothing; only I will say for you that whatever else you were, you were no liar.”
Old Gentleman: “And so your name is Hooligan? Are you any relation to Tom Hooligan?”
Hooligan: “Very distant. I wuz me mother’s first child an’ Tim wuz the twelfth.”
“What’s this?” asked the dictator, nervously, as the courier handed him a document.
“Another ultimatum? Then it’s all right. I thought maybe they were trying to start something.”
The new baby had proved itself the professor of extraordinary long powers. One day baby’s brother, little Johnny, said to his mother:
“Ma, little brother came from heaven, didn’t he?”
“Yes, dear,” answered the mother.
Johnny was silent for a minute, and then went on:
“I say, ma.”
“What is it, Johnny?”
“I don’t blame the angels for slinging him out, do you?”
The teacher of the class in English demanded that the pupils all write for their daily exercise a brief account of a baseball game.
One boy sat through the period seemingly wrapt in thought, while the others worked hard, and turned in their narratives. After school, the teacher approached the desk of the laggard.
“I’ll give you five minutes to write that description,” he sternly said; “if it is not done by that time, I shall punish you.”
The boy promptly concentrated all his attention upon the theme as the teacher slowly counted the minutes. At last, with joyful eagerness, he scratched a line on his tablet, and handed it to his master. It read:
“Rain – no game.”
Father, teaching his six-year-old son arithmetic by giving a problem to his wife, begs his son to listen:
Father: “Mother, if you had a dollar and I gave you five more, what would you have?”
Mother (replying absently): “Hysterics.”
Went Too Far
Quizzer: “What’s the matter, old man? You look worried.”
Sizzer: “I have cause to. I engaged a man to trace my pedigree.”
Quizzer: “Well, what’s the trouble? Hasn’t he been successful?”
Sizzer: “Successful! I should say he has! I’m paying him hush-money.”
“Run up-stairs, Tommy, and bring baby’s nightgown,” said Tommy’s mother.
“Don’t want to,” said Tommy.
“Oh, Tommy! If you are not kind to your new little sister she’ll put on her wings and fly back to heaven.”
Tommy’s reply came.
“Well, let her put on her wings and fly up-stairs for her nightgown!”
“My mother made me what I am,” said the political speaker, as he proudly threw out his chest.
“Well,” said a small man, at the rear of the hall, “she must have put in most of her time at other things.”
Teacher: “What is the highest form of animal life, Tommy?”
Tommy: “The giraffe.”
A heavy bunch of clouds passed over Hogwallow yesterday bound for a Sunday School picnic in progress near Rye Straw.
Hard or Soft Boiled?
The sweet young thing was being shown through the shops of the locomotive works.
“What is that thing?” she asked, pointing with her dainty parasol.
“That,” replied the guide, “is an engine boiler.”
She was an up-to-date young lady and at once became interested. “And why do they boil engines?” she inquired again.
“Oh,” replied the young fellow thoughtfully, “to make the engine tender.”