Reassuring Mummy.

Fortune Knocks at The Smiling Door

A postcard from a small boy evacuated from London during the recent crisis read:—

“We have been having grand fun and a boy was nearly run over yesterday.”

* * *

Bad Luck.

The train roared past the station. Above the noise the stationmaster heard a yell. Rushing out to the platform he saw a man sprawled alongside the tracks. A little girl was standing by.

“Did he try to catch the train?” asked the stationmaster.

“He did catch it,” she replied, “but it got away from him.”

* * *

Long-winded Speakers.

Josh Billings once remarked that when some speakers strike oil they forget to stop boring.

After an hour and a half of preaching, a clergyman who was given to both long-windedness and fanciful flights of oratory, was just getting warmed up to his sermon on immortality.

“I looked up to the mountains,” he shouted, “and I said, ‘Mighty as you are, you will be destroyed; but my soul will not.’ I gazed at the ocean and cried, ‘Vast as you are, you will eventually dry up, but not I.'”

And then he wondered why his hearers smiled.

* * *

Disappointed.

Little Gladys was seen to be weeping bitterly when she returned from her first day at school.

“Whatever is the matter?” asked her mother, anxiously.

“Well,” said Gladys, as well as she could for her tears, “teacher told us that when our names were called we must put up our hands and say ‘present!'” More sobs—then: “So when she called my name I put up my hand and said ‘present’ but—I didn't get one!”

* * *

Gardening Notes.

He had been to the manager's office to ask for the day off so that he could dig up his garden.

“But, my good man,” said the manager, “Jones told me only the other day that you hadn't got a garden.”

“Well, someone must have taken it off the window-sill,” was the calm reply.

(By courtesy of the “Bulletin.”)
“'E's bin goin’ to them mannequin parades.”

The Air Service.

“Well, Tommy,” asked the lad's uncle, “are you in the football team at school?”

“Yes, uncle,” replied the youth. I've got a good position. I do all the aerial work.”

His uncle looked rather puzzled. “Aerial work,” he echoed, “what's that?”

“I blow up the footballs,” was the reply.

Spilling the Ink.

A Glasgow merchant, famous in his way, came into his office one morning and found a young clerk writing a letter in rather a flourishing hand. “My man,” he observed, “dinna mak’ the tails o’ yer g's and y's quite sae long. I want the ink tae last the quarter oot.”

* * *

An Old Friend.

The very mean young lover approached the darling of his heart.

“Did you have any Christmas cards?” he asked.

“Yes, several,” replied the young lady. “There was one I liked especially. It wasn't signed—I thought that very artistic. I think you must have sent it.”

“Really,” exclaimed the youth happily. What makes you think that?”

“Well, you see,” smiled the girl very sweetly, “because I remember sending it to you last Christmas.”

* * *

Also Important.

The children's Christmas dinner was in progress, but instead of turkey they had been provided with a nice fat chicken.

“What part did you have?” asked one little boy of his neighbour.

“The wishbone,” was the reply.

“I had a leg,” put in another child.

One after the other they explained the various parts.

Presently little Jackie, who so far had not spoken a word, held up a skewer and exclaimed: “Look, I've got the perch the chicken sat on!”

* * *

Better Than Grass.

Mrs. Newrich (scanning the menu): Well, ‘Enry, shall we try this, ‘Patty de foy Grass'?

Mr. Newrich: No fearl That might be all right for Nebuchadnezzer, but it's too tame for me! ‘Ow about some Horses’ Doovers; That sounds to have a bit more kick in it!