Humor

PARADE

THE GRIN AND BARE IT SECTION

September 1 1948
Humor

PARADE

THE GRIN AND BARE IT SECTION

September 1 1948

PARADE

Humor

THE GRIN AND BARE IT SECTION

ADVANCE publicity for this year’s Canadian National Exhibition, just before it opened (gigantic new grandstand, Olsen and Johnson cavorting with Lake Ontario for a backdrop, terrifying new midway rides, etc., etc.,) took us back to an experience at last year’s fair in Toronto. Crowds had jammed the water front, late one afternoon, to watch speedboat races and especially a trial run by a famous craft called Miss Canada. The trim speedster came whipping down the course until

it reached the public viewing stands, then, ignominiously, the motor died. The worried announcer on the publicaddress system quickly declared that “the world’s most spectacular diver” would entertain the crowd from the high tower while the boat was being repaired. The diver did a dandy off the 40-foot board and started the long climb up the ladder for his most sensational leap from the 60-foot level. Suddenly a distant roar drew all eyes to the sky: hastily the

announcer bellowed an introduction to the RCAF Mustang Squadron, which hadn’t heard about the holdup in the water-front program and was arriving on schedule for its aerobatics display. Just as the Mustangs came screaming in, Miss Canada’s motor roared into life and as she went hurtling down the raceway the world’s most spectacular diver hurled himself into space from the 60-foot board. Eyeballs popped in all directions as frenzied spectators tried to catch all three sensational acts simultaneously and the din was deafening. But you could still hear the shrill and irate voice of a seven-year-old demanding, “But, Mummy—WHEN do we see the wild animals?”

• • •

The ot her evening a Montrealer we know visited Aux Deux Lanternes, a colorful little restaurant on the outskirts, where all who dine automatically become members in good standing of a jolly but mythical fraternal society known as the Order of the Clay Pipe Smokers. He found the usually affable proprietor puzzling over a letter from the Unemployment Insurance Commission and he called our friend over to have a look. Some bureaucrat had evidently heard rumors of extracurricular activities at

the restaurant for the letter was addressed to L'Ordre des Fumeurs de Pipe de Plâtre, Enregistrée, Cap St. Martin, Que., and contained al brusque request for a list of employees of the organization eligible for unemployment insurance, the necessary registration blank being enclosed.

• • •

A dweller in rural Manitoba went to the big town to see the sights, during a midsummer heat wave, and he certainly got his money’s worth. His eye naturally followed two attractive office girls who were marching down Portage Avenue ahead of him, just as clocks registered lunch hour and thermometer climbed to the day’s high. The farmer was already carrying his own suitcoat and wasn’t at all surprised when one of the girls slipped off the jacket of her suit. Hei was properly bug-eyed, though, when he discovered that beneath the coat she was wearing no blouse, no sweater —no, as far as he could make out, nothing. He’d trailed them anothe:| 100 feet before the steno stopped dead in her tracks and hurriedly dived back into her jacket. As he overtook the pair, the strip-teaser’s face was glowing like a prairie sunset as she gasped to her friend, “I’ll never wear a dickey again as long as I live !”

• • •

Fairs of every kind dot the land in summer, and in Calgary at Stampede time, of course, cowpunchers are everywhere. One of them even took in a movie for a little excitement after the day’s events at the big show. He was a half-pint edition of the usual lanky plainsman and he’d no sooner j taken his seat than an extremely tall i

girl and her companion sat down right in front of him. When the girl later snuggled her head on her boy friend’s shoulder, the black-out was complete: Shorty couldn’t see the

screen at all. “Excuse me, lady,” he said apologetically, “but would you mind removing your head?”

Parade pays $5 to $10 for true, humorous anecdotes reflecting the current Canadian scene. I\o contributions can be returned. Address Parade, c/o Maclean’s Magazine, 481 University Are., Toronto.