Has Been There Before
A Scottish tradesman stepped into a barber shop the other day and while he was being shaved the barber was wondering if this was a new customer.
“Have you ever been here for a shave before?” asked the barber.
“Yes, once,” was the reply.
“But I do not remember your face, sir.”
“Weel, I dare say ye don’t,” said the customer. “Ye see, it’s healed up noo.”
“My husband traces his ancestry back to Edward the Confessor.”
“Mine comes from a different line. I can never make him own up to anything.”
Left by the Carpenter
Job-seeker (entering office unannounced: “Is there an opening here for me?”
Chief Clerk: “Yes, sir, right behind you.”
A Good Reason
“Why do you wander aimlessly from place to place?” asked the old lady of the tramp.
“Because I don’t know any other way to wander,” said the unimaginative roamer.
“Now, boys,” said the teacher, “can any of you tell me why the giraffe has so long a neck?”
There was silence for a few seconds, and then Johnny put up his hand.
“Well, Johnny,” she said, tell us the reason why his neck is so long.”
“Because his head is so far from his body,” replied Johnny.
The Modern Way
After a courtship of some months the young man had mustered sufficient courage to tell the adored one of his great love.
“Tonight,” said he, “I am going to your father and ask him for your hand in marriage.”
“That is very fine, Harry,” the pretty one replied, “but don’t be so old-fashioned.”
“Old-fashioned?” returned the lover thoughtfully. “I don’t quite understand.”
“Don’t ask him,” was the prompt explanation of the girl. “Tell him!”
“What is heredity?”
“Something a father believes in until his son starts to act like a fool.”
“So your new cook came this afternoon? Do you think you can keep her long?”
“Well, she can’t get any train back now till tomorrow morning.”
“I’ve got just the horse for you,” said a liveryman to a farmer who was a prospective customer. “He’s five years old, sound as a bell, and goes ten miles without stopping.”
The farmer shook his head.
“Nod for me,” he said, “nod for me. I lif eight miles from town out, and mit dot horse I haf to valk back two miles.”
“Well, that’s enough to try the patience of Job!” exclaimed the village minister, as he threw aside the local paper.
“Why, what’s the matter, dear?” asked his wife.
“Last Sunday I preached from the text, ‘Be ye, therefore, steadfast,’” answered the good man; “but the printer makes it read, ‘Be ye there for breakfast.’”
Woman Wants But Little Here Below
“Betsy,” he whispered, as they sat together on the fence surrounding Mrs. Filligan’s pig sty, “’ow beautiful you be! Jes’ think of it, Betsy! When us be married, us will have a pig of our own. Think of that, Betsy!”
“Ian,” she whispered, a note of resentment in her voice, “what do I care for pigs? I shan’t want a pig when I’ve got you!”
Then all was silent once more, save for the musical frolics of zephyrs already mentioned.
A pessimist and an optimist were discussing life from their different viewpoints. “I really believe,” said the former, “that I could make a better world myself.”
“Sure!” returned the optimist; “that’s what we are here for. Now let us get to work and do it.”
Food for Thought
It was washing-day, and John had been kept from school to look after the baby. Mother sent them into the garden to play, but it was not long before cries disturbed her.
“John, what is the matter with baby now,” she inquired from her wash-tub.
“I don’t know what to do with him, mother,” replied John. “He’s dug a hole and wants to bring it into the house.”
You Can’t Fool ‘Em
A school superintendent, on one of his visits, was complaining to a teacher that children of the present day are so stupid, it is almost useless to attempt to teach them anything.
Said he: “I’ll show you what I mean.”
Superintendent: “Johnny, give me a number.”
The superintendent wrote 85 on the board.
Silence – no comment from anyone.
“You see,” he remarked to the teacher, “they don’t observe. Let’s try another.”
Superintendent: “James, you give a number.”
The superintendent wrote 75.
Same result as before, and he remarked to the school teacher: “It is deplorable, such a lack of perception, dense stupidity. It is disheartening.”
Spying red-headed, freckled-faced, fidgety little Tim O’Brien, he said: “My boy, you give a number.”
Tim: “Theventy-theven, you old idiot, thee if you can turn that around.”