Mother: “What’s the matter, Willie?”
Willie: “Boo-hoo-oo! Yesterday I fell down an’ hurt myself.”
Mother: “Well, what are you crying today for?”
Willie: “You weren’t home yesterday.”
Mrs. Worth came over from Brooklyn with her precocious nine-year-old son Tommy, and walked with him across the City Hall Park. Tommy manifested a lively interest in the Nathan Hale statue. He wanted a good, long look at it, and his mother humored him.
“Mamma, what’s he tied for?” was Tommy’s first question after his searching examination.
“So he can’t get away,” the proud mother replied.
“Is he live?” was the next question.
“No, Tommy, he’s made of bronze, and there’s no life in that.”
“Then he couldn’t get away, could he, mamma?”
“Then what is he tied for?”
“You see, dear, the soldiers caught him and bound him that way, and then they hanged him.”
“Did they kill him, mamma?”
“Then he is dead, isn’t he?”
“Then how could he get away?”
“Um– er– why, Tommy –”
“Then why did they tie him, mamma?”
Only the roar of Broadway could be heard above the intensity of her silence, and as she led the little fellow along he echoed over and over, “What did they tie him for, mamma?”
A teacher was reading to the class about George Washington. In the story it said that he had a friend who was a man of letters. Then she asked if anyone knew what “a man of letters” meant. No one knew. After a pause of about a minute, John’s hand went up, and with a broad smile, he said, “It meant he was a mail carrier.”
Mother – “Mercy, child, how do you get your hands so dirty? You never see mine as dirty as that!”
Child: “No, but I guess grandma did!”
His Just Desserts
The man who complains of his victuals,
And all his wife’s cooking belictuals,
Should be starved till he’s thin
As a wooden ten-pin
Like they used in the old game of skictuals.
“We had a sensational case of kidnaping in our house lately.”
“You don’t tell me! How did it happen?
“The baby slept the whole night.”
The teacher lammed him on the head,
Which was against the rule;
It made the children laugh and play
To see a lam in school.
“It’s awful queer to me,” said Jimmie as he thought it over. “I can’t see why chickens that haven’t any hair have combs, while dogs and horses that have hair don’t have any combs.”
First Mother: “What is your boy’s favorite dish?”
Second Mother: “Well, I hardly know – but it certainly isn’t the wash-dish.”
It was the first time Dorothy had seen a street sprinkler. “Oh, mother,” she exclaimed, with wide-open-eyes, “just see what that man’s got on his wagon to keep the boys from riding on behind!”
“Georgie, I’m glad to see that you are polite and offer sister the oranges first.”
“Yes’m; ‘cause then she has to be polite, an’ take the little one.”
Teacher: “Johnny, what do you suppose will become of you if you don’t learn to spell better?”
Johnny: “Dunno. I expect I’ll take to writing dialect stories.”