The Driver's Answer.

“Supposing, as your engine was proceeding at express speed on a single line, you saw another train approaching from the opposite direction, what action would you take?” was a question put to an enginedriver to whom the importance of particular economy in the use of coal, oil, and stores, had been stressed during an oral examination. The answer came: ‘I should immediately grab as much coal as possible from the tender, seize the oil-can, gather up a bundle of cotton waste, and jump for my life!’”

* * *

Too Officious.

Traffic Officer: “Hey there! Where d'you think you're going? Don't you know this is a one-way street?”

Mr. Cohen (in his new car): “Vell, I'm going vun way. Vat's de matter mit you?”

Service–With a Smile!

(Adapted from George Belcher)

Porter: “Luggage, Sir?

Absent-minded old gent.: “No, thank you, I have some!”

A Zoological Curiosity.

The school teacher wanted some information about frogs, so she set the class the task of supplying it.

This is what young Hori wrote—(says Colin Dickson):—

“What a queer bird the frog are, when he sit he stand almost, when he hop he fly almost, he ain't got no sense hardly either, he ain't got no tail hardly either, he sit on what he ain't got almost.”

Hori wasn't told, but the teacher liked his contribution better than any of the bunch.

* * *

An Unfortunate Misunderstanding.

Lord Bussell on one occasion was listening patiently to a long winded address which an excited prisoner was delivering, the purport of his remarks being to prove that he was an injured innocent. Lord Russell gave him every attention, but happening not to catch the last few words, he said: “What was your last sentence?”

“Six months hard, my Lord,” was the unexpected reply.

* * *

Punctuation and Its Effects.

Here is a sentence which shows how meaning may be changed by the punctuation: “Lord Palmerston then entered on his head, a white hat upon his feet, large but well-polished boots upon his brow, a dark cloud in his hand, his faithful walking stick in his eye, a menacing glare saying nothing.”

* * *

Pat's Evidence.

“Pray, my good man,” said the judge to a witness in Cork, “what passed between you and the prisoner?” “Och, thin, plase yer worship,” said the witness, “shure I sees Mickey on the top of a wall. “Lary,” says he, “What?” says I. “Here” says he. “Where?” says I. “Whist,” says he. “Hush,” says I; and bedad that's all I know about it, yer worship.”

* * *

Simply Gas.

“You can't expect us to accept stuff like this,” said the indignant editor; “it isn't poetry at all; it's simply gas.” “I see,” said the unruffled poet, “something wrong with the metre.”