The Old Timer was ordered to appear before the chief to answer a charge of being a public drunkard. His accuser turned out to be an old spinster, a selfappointed supervisor of neighborhood morals.
Upon requesting a bill of particulars, she stated that his car was always parked in front of a notorious tavern.
The old rounder made no comment but took a severe tongue lashing from his commander, together with a lecture on maintaining sobriety and propriety at all times.
That evening our hero parked his car in front of the meddler’s house and left it there all night.
Sam: “If you had your choice, which would you rather he in—a collision or an explosion?”
Joe: “A collision, of course.”
Sam: “How come?”
Joe: “Well, in a collision, dere you is, and in an explosion, where is you?”
Gallantry in Action
The boys at Engine 3 like to tell about a famous character that worked there. Once he didn’t speak to his wife for three days. He was too polite to interrupt her.
Hardrock and his young daughter were passengers in an overcrowded elevator. Suddenly a woman standing in front turned and slapped him in the face. Before the startled captain could ask the reason for this outburst, the car stopped and the enraged lady got off.
His daughter then said, “Don’t worry daddy, I don’t like her either. She stepped on my toe, so I pinched her.”
A wife pointed to her husband stretched out in the hammock and explained to her friend: “Fred’s hobby is letting birds watch him.”
The fire buff wasn’t quite sure of the insignia, and while conversing with the district chief called him a lieutenant several times. Then to be sure he asked, “You are a lieutenant, aren’t you?’’
“Well, said the chief diplomatically, “I once was, hut it seems I’m not anymore. ’ “Too bad,” consoled the buff. “Was it liquor or women?”
The Old Timer woke up one morning with a fierce hangover. “You see,” said his wife, “I warned you last night. If you hadn’t drunk so much you wouldn’t feel so bad this morning.”
“Nonsense,” the old souse moaned. “I went to bed feeling wonderful last night and woke up feeling awful. It’s the sleep that did it.”
Nothing reminds a woman of all the things to he done around the house more than a husband who is taking it easy.
A playmate was showing Hardrock’s young daughter through her house.
“This is my daddy’s den,” she said. “Does your daddy have a den?”
“No,” was the prompt answer, “he just growls all over the house.”
“Oh, dear,” exclaimed the sweet young thing, “I’ve missed you so much.”
Then she raised her revolver and fired again.
The reader who thinks our jokes are poor,
Woidd quickly change his views
If he compared the few we print
With those we cannot use.
A man telephoned the police to report that thieves had been at work on his car.
“They’ve stolen the steering wheel, accelerator, clutch pedal and dashboard,” he cried.
The police sergeant said he would investigate and hung up.
A moment later, the telephone rang again.
“Don’t bother,” said the same voice, this time with a hiccup. “I got into the back seat by mistake,”
The artist kissed his model. “I’ll bet you do that to all your models,” she said.
“No,” he replied. “You are the first.”
“How many models have you had?”
“Four,” he answered. “A rose, an onion, a banana, and you.”
Patient: “Doctor, when I raise my arm above my head the pain is unbearable. Can you do anything for me?”
Doctor: “Yes, I’ll tie this 200-pound weight to your wrist.”
Patient: “What good will that do?”
Doctor: “It’ll keep you from raising your arm above your head.”
Little Jeff approached his father who was standing by the edge of a cliff admiring the scenery. “Mommie says it isn’t safe here, Daddy,” he said, “and you’re either to come away or else give me that picnic basket.”
“Say aren’t you the man who got married in a cage full of lions?”
“Yes, I am.”
“That must have been an exciting experience.”
“Well, yeah, it was then—but it wouldn’t be now.”
St. Paul Fire Fighters