The Only Way Out
Peter (sent for the milk) – “Oh, mercy, I’ve drunk too much of it; what shall we do?”
Small Brother – “Easy. We’ll drop the jug.”
Conforming to Proprieties
A little girl aged three had been left in the nursery by herself, and her brother arrived to find the door closed.
“I wants to tum in, Cissie,” said Tom.
“But you tan’t tum in, Tom.”
“But I wants to.”
“Well, I’s in my nightie-gown, an’ nurse says little boys mustn’t see little girls in their nightie-gowns.”
After an astonished and reflective silence on Tom’s side of the door the miniature Eve announced triumphantly: “You tan tom in now, Tom; I tooked it off!”
“You have a pretty tough-looking lot of customers to dispose of this morning, haven’t you?” remarked the friend of a magistrate, who had dropped in at the police court.
“Huh!” rejoined the dispenser of justice, “you are looking at the wrong bunch. Those are the lawyers.”
The Right Pitch
Flatte – “I thought I’d practice on my cornet last evening, but to save me I couldn’t get the right pitch on it.”
Bratte – “Could you get the window open?”
“What’s the window got to do with it?”
“Well, the right pitch would have been through that.”
Like the lava from a crater
Came the gravy on his pate,
For he failed to tip the waiter,
So the waiter tipped the plate.
In a great deal of trepidation a diffident young man called at the office of the father of the girl he was smitten with, and stammered:
“Sir, I – I – pardon me, but I want to marry your daughter.”
“I’m busy; go and see her mother, young man,” said the father.
“I have already seen her mother, and I still wish to marry your daughter.”
Here is some graveyard poetry recently found on a tombstone in Coldwater:
Here lies our wife, Samantha Proctor,
Who ketched a cold and would not doctor.
She could not stay, she had to go.
Praise God from whom all blessings flow.
Mrs. Neurich: “Did you notice how grandly our daughter swept into the room at Mrs. Puppson’s reception last night?”
Neurich: “Sure I did. When it comes to sweeping into a room Mamie wins in a walk; but when it comes to sweeping out a room she goes lame.”
When Mother Took to Slang
Once mother broke out into slang!
We’d often heard her say
Naught else was talked around her
From dawn till close of day;
And mother she was joyful;
“They’ve put me wise,” cried she,
“It knocks me how I used to talk!
But, sure, that’s one on me!”
When mother took to talking slang
It was a mournful day,
And dad and all us children
Just listened in dismay;
But mother she was merry:
“Oh, drop it now!” quoth she;
“Cut out the grouch; come be a sport;
Or else the joke’s on me.”
When mother took to talking slang,
The household speechless grew,
And father groaned, and sister moaned,
And all us children, too;
Still mother dear was happy:
“You love it so,” said she;
“I’ve learned it good and plenty,
And I hope you’re pleased with me!”
First Lawyer: – “Suppose we go out and take something.”
Second Lawyer – “From whom?”
The Girl – “What’s your opinion of women who imitate men?
The Man – “They’re idiots!”
The Girl – “Then the imitation is successful.”
Mother – “Now I want you to keep as far as possible from that Jones boy. He’s the worst one in your school.”
Bob – “I always do. He’s at the head of the class all the time.”
Leaving Him at Sea
“Could you do something for a poor old sailor?” asked the seedy-looking wanderer at the gate.
“Poor old sailor?” echoed the lady at work at the tub.
“Yes’m, I follered the wotter for sixteen years.”
“Well,” said the woman, after a critical look, “you certainly don’t look as if you ever caught up with it.”
A number of tourists were recently looking down the crater of Vesuvius. An American gentleman said to his companion:
“That looks a good deal like the infernal regions.”
An English lady, overhearing the remark, said to another:
“Good gracious! How these Americans do travel.”
An East End hostess tells us of a young man who apologized for being late to a dinner party.
“We’re so glad you got here,” she said to him. “But where is your brother?”
“He has commissioned me to tender his regrets. You see, we are so busy at the office just now that it is impossible for both of us to get away at once. So we tossed up to see which should have the pleasure of coming here tonight.”
“How original! And so you won?”
“No,” he replied absently, “I lost.”
“Were any of your boyish ambitions ever realized?” asked the sentimentalist.
“Yes,” replied the practical person. “When my mother used to cut my hair I often wished I might be bald-headed.”
The Marketer – “Aren’t you wasting a good deal of that steak in trimming it?”
The Butcher – “No, ma’am; I weighed it first.”
Nothing in It
“I regard conversation as a gift,” remarked the studious woman.
“It usually is,” replied Miss Cayenne. “If people had to pay for it there would be much less of it.”
The Minute Man
Tommy – “My gran’pa wuz in th’ Civil War, an’ he lost a leg or a arm in every battle he fit in!”
Johnny – “Gee! How many battles was he in?”
Tommy – “About forty.”