SLOP TEETH

A lady up North was asked by her black maid, whose face had been terribly battered by her infuriated husband, to send to the shop for new teeth, in payment of which she tendered half-a-crown, promising “two bob more” as wages accumulated.  This is a fact, and therefore comparable with the anecdote which tells that a military bandmaster demanded the return of a set of teeth supplied at the regiment’s expense to a cornet player who had been granted his discharge.

A FASCINATED BOY

Seas swamped a small cutter as she was beating across the bar of a Northern river.  Exerting themselves to the utmost, the owners, with two black boys, managed to save the boat, but all the food on board was ruined, and blankets and clothing saturated.  Hungry and dejected the party prepared to put away the time until the weather calmed.  In the afternoon, fortune smiled.  Another cutter came in sight, and with the assistance of those on shore, managed to get into safety and shelter.  All hands were liberally treated to needful refreshment.  “Say when!” said the cheery Boss, as he poured a revivifying dose of whisky into a pannikin held by the expectant but shivering boy.  The elixir gurgled and glittered before his fascinated eyes until the pannikin held enough for two stiff nobblers, without evoking any polite verbal restraint.  “My word!” said the Boss, at last, “that boy can’t say when.”

AWKWARD CROSS-EXAMINATION

Mickie and Jinny being privileged became familiar, and spoke all sorts of confidences in the ears of their mistress.  Visitors came, an old friend and her daughters, a blonde and a brunette.  The contrast in the types of the girls puzzled Mickie.  He took an early opportunity to cross-examine one from whom he thought he could obtain confidential information.  “What Gwen sister belonga Glad?” he asked.  “Yes, Mickie” “Same mother?” queried Mickie.  “Yes, of course.”  Then came without hesitation or reserve the dumbfounding question:  “Same father?”

THE ONLY ROCK

Some may sneer when absolute originality is claimed for the following little anecdote, for almost a facsimile of it happens to be among the most time-honoured of jests.  Rounding Clump Point in a light centre-board cutter, the Boss, who was steering, asked Willie, whose local knowledge was being relied on:  “Any stone here, Willie?” “Yes,” was the response, “one fella.”  The words were yet on the lips of the boy when the centre-board jumped with a clang.  “Why you no tell me before?” angrily remonstrated the Boss.  Willie—­“No more.  Only one fella.  You catch ’em!”

SAW THE JOKE