Sign writers for the Ontario department of highways are getting real cozy. Now when they want to funnel you down from two lanes to one they urge “Squeeze into line.”
A toy “Electronic - Powered TV and Radio Station,” all for $1.77, was obviously the ideal Christmas gift for the seven-year-old of a Calgary family. When it turned out to be an assemble-it-yourself rig it was the ideal gift for father, too, and he could hardly wait for junior to go to bed the night it arrived so he could get at it. Out of the box came the cabinet of the set plus a paper bag supposed to contain the parts; but out of the bag came two half-eaten sandwiches, a piece of cake and a brown banana peel. The store that sold it made good, of course, but all the clerk would say when confronted with the evidence was: “I didn't do it — I didn't do it!”
A friend back east mailed a letter to a young minister who had recently moved west, addressing it to “Endurance,
Sask.” It arrived okay, after some cun-
ning post - office detective had written across the envelope. “Try Endeavour.”
A barber on Mount Pleasant Road in Toronto, who still caters appreciatively to those unreconstructed Canadian males
who insist on coming in to be shaved with a straight razor, can occasionally be seen standing in his own shop window shaving himself — with an electric.
Ottawa broke out with a new series of street signs a while back, all identical and baffling: “Stop moved.”
It never pays to treat old saws lightly.
That one about proud as a you-know-
what got thoroughly reconfirmed recently when a spy of ours in Vancouver's Stanley Park spotted two peacocks preening themselves in front of individual mirrors . . . the shiny chrome hubcaps of a late-model car.
A Toronto mother was trundling a baby carriage across the street and trying to keep track of a wandering fouryear-old at the same time. The boy spotted an open manhole and instantly darted toward it, until mother yanked him back, shouting “Come away from that dirty old manhole.” And just as
quickly a workman thrust himself up through the hole and shouted back, “I’ll have you know this is a clean old manhole.”
It's getting so a poor unsuspecting inebriate can't even trust a taxi to get him home safely. This unfortunate Edmonton celebrant hailed a cab to take him home but landed in jail. Trouble was he fell asleep without giving the cabbie his address; when the cabbie left his car to telephone for advice another fellow climbed in and asked the snoozing one to give him a ride home. The inebriate revived long enough to say hospitably “Drive yourself home!” The newcomer did, but he barely made it before they both landed in jail, one charged with
car theft, the other intoxication.
We have settled on our favorite head-
line of 1959. We wish we'd been the desk man on the Halifax Mail-Star who got the chance to write:
SORRY HE SHOT MYRTLE THOUGHT IT WAS HIS WIFE * * *
Campuses are taking on a new look with ivy-covered walls giving way to glass walls, but all the professors haven’t been updated. One of the old absent-minded variety walked right through a glass wall at Ottawa's Carleton University, mistaking it for a door. Only his dignity was shattered, and it didn’t mend any faster after some wag taped a notice over the jagged hole. “This entrance reserved for members of staff only.”
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