Volume 2 — Jest Jokes and Jingles
Reading edition
Damphoolishness
The woodry-blee pipes oolie-goo, While on the brinkers grimes the moo. God save the King, the soldiers cried, And then they took a trolley ride. A rooster crowed upon the hill, His name was William—she called him Bill. ’Twas bitter cold at Valley Forge, But nothing ever rattled George. The berries were growing on the vine, Three times thirteen is thirty-nine.
* * *
Out in the kitchen a maiden fair Plucked from the hash a golden hair.
* * *
Woman’s hair—beautiful hair, What words of praise I’d utter; But, oh, how sick it makes me feel To find it in my butter.
* * *
Looking Up
“Look up!” cries the optimist.
“Look upward!” shouts the revivalist.
And yet Robert Bailey was fined $1 and costs or ten days because he looked up while under the Stadium bleachers.
The police said there were ladies up above.
—Toronto Telegram.
* * *
He took her rowing on the lake; She vowed she’d go no more. I asked her why—her answer came: “He only hugged the shore.”
* * *
A woman’s first kiss may be attributed to childish curiosity; her second to misplaced confidence; the others are just downright carelessness.
* * *
Not So Fond of It
Mrs. Benham: “You used to say that I was the apple of your eye.”
Benham: “Well, what of it?”
Mrs. Benham: “Nothing; except that you don’t seem to care so much for fruit as you once did.”
* * *
There was a girl in her own boudoir, And she was tall and handsome; And every time the wind blew hard, It blew right through her transom.
* * *
Seven Ages of Man
The seven ages of man have recently been tabulated on an acquisitive basis, as follows:
First Age—Sees the earth.
Second Age—Wants it.
Third Age—Starts to get it.
Fourth Age—Decides to be satisfied with half of it.
Fifth Age—Becomes still more moderate.
Sixth Age—Now content to possess a six by two foot strip of it.
Seventh Age—Gets the strip.
* * *
Under the swinging street car strap, The homely old maid stands, And stands and stands and stands and stands, And stands and stands and stands. —Luke McLuke.
* * *
Har Du Got a Hod?
An Irishman died and went to heaven. St. Peter said, “I’m sorry, but we just got a big consignment of Swedes from Minneapolis today and there is no more room.” “Can I get in if I make room?” asked the late arrival. “Certainly,” said St. Peter. The Irishman shouted through the gate, “Hey, you fellows, there’s free snuff in hell.” And he made room, all right.
* * *
Society Note: Mr. Potter of Pottersfield felt cold and stiff this morning.
* * *
In a Garden
As I walked along the paths this morning picking flowers, I found in the yellow heart of a Lady Slipper, a little brown bee. My first impulse was to shake him out of his honeyed abode, but as I looked at his velvety body and the sunlit rainbow wings, a foolish tenderness surged over me. Perhaps there were baby bees at home that would starve if papa bee did not bring back honey; and how useful this little creature was, carrying the pollen from flower to flower—so I moved on, leaving him unmolested. But even as I turned away thinking these pure, sweet thoughts, the darn thing stung me.
* * *
When Adam in bliss Asked Eve for a kiss, She puckered her lips with a coo; With looks quite ecstatic, Gave answer emphatic: “I don’t care A-dam if I do.” —Flo.
* * *
And she said I must Seattle as she rose Tacoma her hair, for if I wear my nice New Jersey, what will Delaware?
* * *
When Greek meets Greek—they open a fruit store; but when Irish meet English they open an uproar.
* * *
Beats me how these girls keep their dresses up. Must be strength of mind that does it.