A Brilliant Suggestion.

A Padre was seated at the bedside of a Jock frae Aberdeen. “You want me to write home to your wife,” he remarked.

“Ay,” replied Jock.

“Well, what would you like to say?”

“I dinna ken,” was Jock's answer.

“You don't know, then how do you expect me to write? Suppose I begin with ‘My Dear Wife’”—–

“Ay, that'll amuse her.”

* * *

Applause.

“You're home early from the court, Mrs. Murphy.”

‘They shoved me out for clappin’ when me 'usband got three munce.”

* * *

Foreknowledge.

Four workmen were playing cards. “I knew you were going to play a spade, Bill,” said one.

“'Ow?” asked Bill.

“Because,” said the first man, “I saw yer spit on yer 'and.”

* * *

The Usual Accompanying Blindness.

He: “I was a fool when I married you.”

She: “And I was so infatuated at the time that I didn't notice it.”

* * *

The Handy Man.

“Trim the lawn, ma'am?” asked the disreputable looking gardener, who was carrying a large pair of shears. “No thank you,” said the lady of the house.

“Clip the bushes, ma'am?”

“No.”

“Well, ma'am, I must earn an honest penny somehow. What abaht 'aving yer 'air bobbed?”

* * *

Well, After All!

“I like this room, but the view from the windows is rather monotonous.”

“Well, of course, this is just a rooming house, not a sightseeing bus.”

* * *

Period Style.

“To think,” exclaimed the enthusiastic young husband, “that by the time we get all this furniture paid for we shall have genuine antiques!”

At the Top of the Hill.

A kind-hearted English vicar one day observed an old woman laboriously pushing a perambulator up a steep hill. He volunteered his assistance, and when they reached the top of the hill, said in answer to her thanks:

“Oh, it's nothing at all. I'm delighted to do it. But as a little reward, may I kiss the baby?”

‘Baby, Lor’ bless you, sir,” she returned, “it ain't no baby, it's the old man's beer.”

* * *

Desperation.

The small boy had been naughty, and was sent to his room as a punishment. He was so quiet that his parents went to see what he was doing, and found him writing a letter.

“Is that a letter of apology?” they asked.

“If you want to know,” he replied, “I'm writing to the Archbishop of Canterbury to get a divorce from both of you!”

* * *

Domestic Pleasantries.

Mrs. Tattlebaum: “Do you know that you talk in your sleep, Henry?”

Mr. Tattlebaum: “So you begrudge me even those few words.”

To Keep Warm Maybe.

The reason a Scotch bagpiper walks up and down when playing is because it is always harder to hit a moving target.

* * *

Rudder All Awry.

Wife (to absent-minded professor): “Your hat is on the wrong way, dear.”

Prof.: “How do you know which way I'm going?”

* * *

Foot Comfort.

Pat: “Phwat's the matter with ye, Moike?”

Mike: “Sure, Pat, Oi cannot get me new boots on at all.”

Pat: “Don't ye worry about that. Ye can never get new boots on until ye've worn them once or twice.”

* * *

Washing Day.

“Yes,” said Mrs. Bloggs, who was discussing her next-door neighbour, “I got one 'ome on 'er properly yesterday. She was 'anging 'er washin' out on the line, and when I sees her old man's shirt, I says, ‘Wot, ’as your 'usband joined the Fascists?' Prides 'erself on 'er washin', she does!”

Economy.
“What size tube of tooth paste would you like, sir?”
“Oh, just enough for two teeth, laddie—just enough for two teeth.”