Rensselaer Republican, Volume 14, Number 35, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 18 May 1882 — ALL SORTS OF JOKES. [ARTICLE]

ALL SORTS OF JOKES.

{‘lndifferent: Cnstoiaer—“Give me somerflshlA Waiter—‘lwhmt will you take, sir, blueflsh?” Customer—“lt makes no difference; T’m color-blind. The mistake they make: The conceited Britishers claim we have bo literature of our own. They don’t know anything about our circus posters, evidently. Somewhat uncertain: What is your income?” was once asked of a noted Perisian Bohemain. “It is hard to tell,” was the reply, “but In "good years I can borrow at least 10,000 frances.” <* A love story in four lines: “I want to bite you,” said he. “What for?” said she. “Kase I love you,” said he —is a part of a conversation we overheard a few days ago by a couple in our town. The deaf man’s bride: A deaf man lately married was asked at the club: “Is she pretty ?” “No,” replied the deaf gentleman. “No she isnot but she will be when her father dies.” Meteorological: Sophronia-*-“Can sudden rainstorms in summer be foietold by the weather prophets?” They could, probably, if they knew the dates on which Sunday-school picnics would beJield.— Could take his choice: She had been in this country only a short time, coming from the Eriietald Isle, so her employer was not surprised when she casually asked if he’d have his eggs boiled in hot or cold water. A matter of fire: Brown pointed his gun at a panridge; the cap snapped and the bird flew off. “Just my confound luck!” exclaimed Brown: “miss fire every time.” “Have patience,” counseled Fogg: “you may have better luck in another world.” Two lines of thought; “Do you ever use glasses?” politely asked an old lady of an elderly English gentleman who was seated beside her in the railway car. “Hi never, does,” answered the phlegmatic Briton “Hi halways takes mine hin a pewter mug.” A matter of necessity: “Yes sir,” said Brown, “if there is one thing more than another that I am proud of, it is this, that, I always keqp my word.” “Very true,.” replied Fogg; “but how can you help it, you know? Did you ever know anybody who would take it?” Fashion items: Miss Brown, wha is no longer young, was chiding Miss Moire for her foolishness in carrying a parasol, which Miss Brown said was useless and a piece of affection. “I never carry a parasol,” she said. “No,” replied Miss Moire, “people on the shady side of life have no use for them.” * Accommodatiops for six: Moee Schamburg has been annoyed by burglars prowling about his residence on the upper end of Austin avenue. Yesterday he went into a gunshop to buy a pistol. “What kind of a weapon do you want?” “1 would like one,” said Mose, “Mit accommodations lor six burglars.

A mystery explained: “Lawrence, my dear,” said his wife, wreathed in smiles,. “I wish you had been to church this morniug. Mr. Jones was very interested, and when he prayed for the absent ones—” “Well that accounts for it, then. I haven’t caught such a string of fish for a year as I did this morning.” Circus incident: A young man who went to the ciicus and stepped too* near a monkey’s cage had his arm seized ahd savagely jerked by one of the monkeys. He would have escaped safely, if he had not said, “It is merely a monkey-wrench,” but when they heard that the infuriated crowd threw him into the lion’s den. A reminder: There is a story told of a very consequential head waiter who observing a man tie his napkin around his neck preparatory to commencing his meal, went up to him and said. “You have made a mistake, sir; this isn’t a barber shop.” It was a very good rebuke, but it cost the head waiter his situation. Wouldn’t miss him: “Look heah, Squire, dah’s a niggar in Galveston wnat’s been sassin me; supposin’l juet maul de life outer him?” The lawyer replied: “You would be apt ■o get your neck stretched.” “Now joss, you is jokin. What do white folks care for one nigger moah or less now de census is done took?” Post obit: Mrs. Malloy—“Sure, Mrs McGinnis, an’ it’s rather poorly ye looking this morning.” Mrs. McGinnis—“Indeed, thin, Mrs. Malloy, an it’s good raison I’m havin’ to loolf poorly. Here’s the postman just been to the doore to tell me there’s a dead letter waitin’ fur me at the post office an’ I can’t fur the life of me think who it is that’s dead.”Carried hist point: A youth to fortune and to fame unknown sends Dumas the manusoript of a new play, asked the great dramatist to become his collaborates. Dumas is for a moment petrified, then seizes his pen and replies: “How dare you, sir, propose to yoke together a horse and an ass?” The author, by return ol post: “How dare you, sir, call me a horse?” Dumas, by next mail: “Send me your play, my young friend.” He wanted It stronger.: An old toper cphadlairied to a doctor that the ardent failed to exhilarate his spirits. The doctor, knowing the inordinate nature of his appetite, told him he had better try aquafortis. A short timelrftorward he was surprised by another visit from the individual, who told him that the aquafortis did very well at first, but it was not strong enough. “I say, doctor,” said he, “don’t you think a little aqua flfies would about fix it?”