Some Bird.

A little boy's essay on geese:

“A geese is a low heavy set boid which is mostly meet and feathers—His head sits on one side and he sets on the other. A geese can't sing much on account of dampness of the moisture. He ain't got no foot between his toes and he's got a baloon on his stomach to keep him from sinking. Some gooses when they gits big has curls on their tals and is called ganders. Ganders don't have to sit and hatch, but just loaf and eat, and go swimmin. If I was a goose, I'd rather be a gander.”

* * *

A Budding Economist.

Tommy surveyed the new baby with a decidedly critical eye. “Well, dad,” he said at last, “how much a month do we have to pay on that?”

* * *

The Humble Sausage.

Lady (to butcher): “I'll take a pound of those sausages. Are they British?”

Butcher: “Yes, ma'am, the bulldog breed.”

* * *

Natural Anxiety.

Young wife: “Now, Bill, I want you to go around to the minister and arrange for having the baby christened.”

Bill (shipyard worker): “You mean to say you are going to let somebody hit that little thing over the head with a bottle?”

* * *

Spending Again.

Mrs. McNab: “Ah'm thinking we'll spend next Christmas at hame, McNab?”

Mr. McNab: “Ye're aye thinking of spending something.”

Another Bright Essay.

A Maori was notified by the Department of Health that the permit to keep his pig had expired. Back came the reply: “Dear Department of Helt,— Thank you for tole me my permit to keep a pig have expire. I want to tole you my pig have beat you to it. He expire tree week ago.”

* * *

Outside Her Job.

Customer: “What does this mean? There's a fly in the bottom of my teacup.”

Waitress: “How do I know? I'm a waitress, not a fortune-teller.”

* * *

The Problem of the Solution.

It is estimated that hundreds of tons of sugar are wasted annually in the bottoms of tea-cups.

This terrible disclosure will cause a big stir in Scotland.

* * *

Words of the Wise.

Park Orator: “Having said all I'm going to say, I will return to what I was comin' to when I was interrupted, and repeat what I was prevented from sayin'!”

The Sage of Steam
“My father drives that train, Harold.” He: “Yes. His little life is rounded with the steam, as Shakespeare says.”