During a fire in midtown Manhattan, one recent middle-of-the-night, the tenants of an apartment budding rushed into the street carrying their most prized possessions. A woman writer we know, who was among the tenants scurrying for safety, noticed that the gentleman who lived directly above her was carrying a large, covered bird cage.
“What have you got there?” she asked.
“That’s my pet rooster,” said the man —and the woman fainted.
When she was revived, she explained to her anxious neighbor, “I’m sorry I fainted but, you see, for the past year I’ve been under treatment by a psychiatrist—because I kept hearing a rooster crowing!”
A man’s horse sense seems to desert him when he feels his oats.
CAUTION!—If your sweater is too big for you, watch out for the machines…. If you are too big for your sweater, watch out for the machinists.
When you turn to the obituaries before the sports news—when you look at the menu before you look at the waitress— when you choose a crowded escalator instead of the empty stairs—when a party is spoiled because you think how awful you will feel tomorrow, you’re middleaged.
The world is made up of isotrons, electrons, protons, neutrons, and morons.
A Safe Bet
Grimy and grizzled man with a 52-inch chest expansion wheeled into one of Detroit’s few bookstores.
“Gimme two Bibles,” he boomed.
Nobody asked for an explanation, but he couldn’t wait to give it.
“Buying one for meself; the other fer me buddies at the plant. Lotta gambling there. Intend to convert ’em to reelijon.”
Smiled the bookstore proprietor:
“I wash you good luck.”
“Brother, thank you. Shop steward laid me three-to-one I won’t make a convert.”
Knew His Snags
Several years ago a pilot applied for a job on one of our great rivers. The owner of the boat said, “I suppose you know where the snags are?”
The pilot replied, “No.”
“What,” said the owner, “you apply for a job and don’t know where the snags are?”
“I know where they ain’t,” the pilot replied, “and that’s where I calculate to do my sailing.”
He got the job.
Two alley cats sat on a fence watching a tennis game. One turned to the other and whined: “My old man is in that racket.”
If there’s anything I can’t stand, it’s people who talk while I’m interrupting.
A dilapidated old car pulled up along side a shiny new Cadillac at a traffic light. The driver of the older car yelled at the Cadillac owner; “Hey, stupid, what question did you miss?”
The forger is the man who writes a wrong.
The absent minded professor and his absent minded wife were spending a quiet evening at home when someone banged on the door.
She yelled, “Oh gosh, my husband!” And he jumped through the window.
A fresh egg usually gets slapped in the pan.
Everything comes to him who hustles while he waits.
—Thomas A. Edison
The difference between a pretty girl and an old maid is that a pretty girl has a lot of men in her wake, while an old maid has them only in her sleep.
Fathers give daughters away to other men who aren’t good enough for them … so they can have grandchildren who are smarter than anybody’s.
Psychology reveals what you already knew in words you don’t understand.
The man who thinks he is indispensable should notice the hole his finger leaves after he pulls it out of the water.
A running nude girl was followed nipand-tuck by two men in white. A third fellow, carrying a bucket, ran a poor fourth, and finally gave up the chase. To a curious bystander he explained:
“She escaped from our asylum and we must catch her.”
“Why were you carrying that bucket?”
“I caught her yesterday. It was my handicap today.”
Some motorists evidently think a locomotive whistles at a crossing just to keep up its courage.
Saw a sign at a tombstone dealer’s the other day. It said, “Drive carefully. We can wait.”
“Yes, I have four children,” an interviewee confessed to radio’s radiant Bill Silbert. “Their ages are 6, 5, 3, and 2.”
“I spy something,” Silbert cutied. “What happened you don’t have a fouryear-old?”
“That was the year we installed our television set.”
At a decent interval following the funeral Jonathan visited his friend’s widow.
“Your late husband and I were great pals,” he mourned. “I wonder if there’s something of his around here you’d let me have—to remember him by?”
Shyly but coyly, the widow offered:
“How about me?”