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Pat Riot

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Necessity is the mother of invention, and the hungry Frenchman told about in a biography recently published in England illustrates the old adage anew.


He was in an English restaurant and wanted eggs for breakfast, but had forgotten the English word. So he got around the difficulty in the following way:


“Vaiterre, vat is dat valking in the yard?”


“A rooster, sir.”


“Ah! and vat you call de rooster’s vife?”


“The hen, sir.”


“And vat you call de childrens of de rooster and his vife?”


“Chickens, sir.”


“But vat you call de chickens before dey are chickens?”


“Eggs, sir.”


“Bring me two.”

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When Mr. Lloyd George was a young country solicitor in Wales, he was riding home in his dog-cart one day and came upon a little Welsh girl trudging along so wearily that he offered her a ride.

 

She accepted silently, but all the way along, although he tried to engage her in conversation, he could not get her to say anything more than a timid “Yes” or “No.”

 

Some days afterward the girl’s mother happened to meet Mr. Lloyd George, and said to him smilingly, “Do you remember that my little girl rode home with you a short time ago? Well, when she got home she said, ‘Mamma, I rode home from school with Mr. Lloyd George, the lawyer, and he kept talking to me, and I didn’t know what ever to do, for you know Mr. Lloyd George charges when you talk with him, and I hadn’t any money.’ ”

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One afternoon a traveler was rambling along a country road, when he observed a small boy sitting on a bridge, watching a great red glow in the western sky.

 

“Young man,” said he, enthusiastically, “I am glad to see you so interested in beautiful scenery.”

 

“Yes, sir,” assented the youngster.

 

“There is nothing more beautiful at times than the setting sun,” pursued the traveler. “Do you often come here to watch it?”

 

“That ain’t no settin’ sun!” exclaimed the boy, turning to the other with a happy expression. “That’s our schoolhouse burnin’ down."

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At a camp meeting, where hats were used as collection baskets, the preacher said: “Let us sing while the hats are coming in.”


The pianist, after some fumbling with the pages, turned to him and said: “I can’t find it.”


“Beg pardon,” said the preacher, not understanding.


“Why,” replied the pianist, “I can’t find that song, ‘While the Hats Are Coming In,’ in my book.”

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16 hours ago, Subdeacon Joe said:

 

By happenstance I had just finished setting up a crock pot with pork, onion,  garlic,  carrots, celery,  sweet  potato  Worcester sauce,  and Pepsi.

 

Hey SDJ: 

 

"Worcester" is a city in central MA; if you are from around here, it is pronounced "Woosta"; if you are a tourist or in the out-of-town news media, it's "War-chess-ter";

 

"Worcestershire" is a seasoned sauce used in cooking; that's "Woostasheer" for locals and folks in the know,  and  "War-chess-ter-shyer" for the rest.

 

And there is no connection between the city and the sauce, except that they both took their names from the city of Worcester, England.

 

LL

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4 hours ago, Loophole LaRue, SASS #51438 said:

"Worcestershire" is a seasoned sauce used in cooking; that's "Woostasheer" for locals and folks in the know,  and  "War-chess-ter-shyer" for the rest.

 

My dad loved putting that on his food. I'd always call it Worcestershistershystershire just to annoy the crap out of him. :D

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The schoolmaster possessed a very short temper and became extremely irritable when not obeyed at once. He was hearing the reading lesson, and Johnny was getting along famously until he came to the word “barque,” when he halted.

 

“B-b-b-ba—” stuttered Johnny.

 

The master sharply said: “Barque, boy; barque.”

 

Johnny glared at the master with a look of perplexity on his face, and the master’s temper rose.

 

“Barque, boy; barque,” he roared.

 

Then Johnny, with a pitiful expression on his face, replied: “Bow—wow—wow—wow!”

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A minister had just left home when he remembered that he had not shaved. Consequently he paid one of his rare visits to the village barber. That worthy, however, could not effect the operation without cutting the reverend gentleman’s chin.


“Ah, John,” remonstrated the cleric, “it’s an awful thing, the drink.”


“It is that, sir,” responded the barber. “It makes the skin wonderfully tender!”

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The clergyman was nailing a refractory creeper to a piece of trellis-work near his front gate, when he noticed that a small boy had stopped and was watching him with great attention.

 

“Well, my young friend,” he said, pleased to see the interest he excited, “are you looking out for a hint or two of gardening?”

 

“No,” said the youth; “I’m waiting to hear what a parson says when he hammers his thumb.”

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A Methodist deacon was standing outside the church trying to get new members.

 

"Come on in, and join the army of the Lord!"

 

Man walking by says, "I've already joined".

 

The deacon says, "Where'd you join?"

 

The man says, "Over at the Baptist Church".

 

The deacon says, "Son, you ain't joined the Army. You joined the Navy."

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A suburban minister during his discourse one Sunday morning said: “In every blade of grass there is a sermon.”

 

Next day one of his elders found the good man mowing his lawn. “Well, sir,” he said, “I am glad to see you engaged in cutting your sermons short.”

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A stranger in an Indiana village thought he might improve the time by attending service in the local church. At the conclusion of a lengthy talk, the minister announced that he should like to meet the Board. The stranger, in company with several other persons, proceeded to walk to the front of the church. The pastor, thinking there must be some misunderstanding, said to him: “I believe, sir, you are mistaken. This is just to be a meeting of the Board.”


“Well,” replied the visitor, “I have listened to you talk for more than an hour and if any one has been more bored than I have been, I should like to know who it is."

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First Girl.—“Do you know, I heard that Mamie Brown’s engagement ring is paste.”


Second Girl.—“How perfectly lovely and appropriate! You know her fiancé is a paper hanger.”

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The young man produced a small, square box from his pocket.


“I have a present for you,” he began. “I don’t know whether it will fit your finger or not, but—”


“Oh, George!” she broke in. “This is so sudden. Why, I never dreamed—”


But just then George produced the gift—a silver thimble—and it got suddenly cooler in the room.

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The gimlet-eyed man, given to propounding conundrums sprang a new one on some friends the other day.


“What,” he asked, “is three-sevenths of chicken, two-thirds of cat, and one-half of goat?”


It was, of course, given up.


“Well,” said the gimlet-eyed man, triumphantly, “the answer’s Chicago. ‘Chi’ is three-sevenths of chicken; ‘ca’ is two-thirds of cat, and ‘go’ one-half of goat.”


Whereupon they threw him out of the place

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Andy Donaldson, a well-known character of Glasgow, lay on his deathbed, according to the Argonaut. “I canna’ leave ye thus, Nancy,” the old Scotchman wailed. “Ye’re ower auld to work, an’ ye couldn’t live in the workhouse. Gin I dee, ye maun marry anither man, wha’ll keep ye in comfort in yer auld age?”

 

“Nay, nay, Andy,” answered the good spouse, “I couldna’ marry anither man, for whit wull I dae wi’ two husbands in heaven?”

 

Andy pondered over this, but suddenly his face brightened. “I ha’e it, Nancy!” he cried. “Ye ken auld John Clemmens? He’s a kind man, but he’s no a member of the kirk. He likes ye, Nancy, an’ gin ye’ll marry him, ’twill be a’ the same in heaven. John’s no’ a Christian, and he’s no likely to get there.”

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A minister, drunk and an engineer had committed crimes and were sentenced to die by guillotine.

 

The minister was up first and was asked, "Do you want to go face up, or face down?" He said, I would like to go face up so I can ask the lord to forgive my transgressions." The rope is pulled and the blade drops, but stops inches from his neck. The executioner thought this was act of God and set him free.

 

The drunk is next and is asked the same thing. His reply was, "I've wasted most of my life face down in the gutter, so I'll go face down." Again, the rope is pulled and the blade stops inches from his neck." He is also set free.

 

When the engineer is asked, he said, "It doesn't really matter, so I might as well go face up." Just before the rope is pulled he said, "Oh, I see your problem. There's a kink in the rope."

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