ONE OF our Ottawa undercover men re reports that there has been no end of talk back and forth in the offices of a certain Minister, arising from a recent bit of interdepartmental letter-writing in connection with an official purchase of grocery supplies. Determined to see that the grocery order went to a Sound Party Man, one of the department secretaries wrote, on behalf of the Minister, submitting to the purchasing authority the names of three firms between whom the order was to be divided. Later the secretary was shocked to discover that all three of the recommended names had been ignored, and the order placed with a firm we will call, in the interests of discretion, “Blank and Co.” Indignantly he wrote to the purchasing agent, demanding an explanation, which arrived in due course. It read:
With regard to your query I wish to inform you that of the three dealers whose names you furnished me, the first is out of business, the second operates a restaurant, and the third is a laborer who does not operate a store of any kind. We purchased the groceries from Blank and Co., because they are the only grocery dealers in the town.
Brutally murderous intention boldly announced by Jack Conway, motion picture director, on his return from a hunting trip in British Columbia, as reported by the Vancouver Daily Province:
The M-G-M director brought out a moose and caribou as souvenirs. Next year he hopes to bring Clark Gable with him, he said.
A report comes from the Central Alberta Sanitarium at Calgary which makes it look as though some of the folks out there are pretty darn pertinacious when it comes to hanging onto their considered jx>litical opinions. One patient, after Adolph Hitler's fiery Nuremberg outburst, asked another his opinion of the speech.
“For me. it was just fine,” was the answer. “He sure put Bennett where he belongs. That darned R. B. Bennett, lie's been sticking his nose in altogether Lx> many places lately. It was about time somebody told him off.”
By what mysterious mental or physical ratiocination the thing came about, we cannot know, but it did happen in Saint John, N.B., where the Empire Theatre, advertising a picture called “Expensive Husbands,” announced as co stars—"Beverly Baxter and Patrick Knowles.”
Now we can’t make up our mind whether Beverley Baxter or Beverly Roberts is the one who should feel flattered. Mavbe both.
Shaunavon, Saskatchewan, reports one of those loosefalse-teeth episodes that seems to establish a new trend. A leading citizen of Shaunavon. we are assured, found himself stranded on a country road because the vacuum feed in his car refused to function. 1 íe unscrewed the top from the gas tank, with the idea that if he blew hard enough into the tank, he could force some gasoline from the tank into the vacuum cup and so restore normal conditions. Drawing a series of mighty breaths he filled his lungs to bursting, opened his mouth widely to cover the opening of the tank, then exploded so mighty a blast that he blew his bridgework clean off its moorings and into the tank.
Employment Wanted, Female, advertisement in the Toronto Evening Telegram:
YOUNG woman with ten years' experience in making candies, dipping, molding, packing, wrapping, hard boiled, desires position. 1 lannah, Lombard 3646.
Don’t you mean hard hearted, Hannah?
From the Toronto Star’s Questions Department.
Tourist: If the ship is in port you would use the postage of the country to whom the ix>rt belonged, but if the ship is at sea you would use the postage of the country to which the jx>rt belonged.
Boy! That’s a load off our mind.
Mystery story from a recent issue of the New Outlook:
On July 19, 1938, there died at Clydesdale, Ont., a man who for fifty years exercised a remarkable influence for good in that sparsely settled area. Born in Cold Springs, Ontario, and moving north at the age of sixteen, he spent almost his entire life at Clydesdale. Possessing in a great measure the best pioneer virtues of integrity, thrift, hospitality, and kindliness, he gave himself without stint in the home, community and church. He loved and lived for, the priceless simple things of life. Four daughters and two sons survive. Funeral services were conducted by Revs. A.
C. McCallum of Coe Hill, and P. L. Jull, of Brooklin.
Isn’t this carrying a polite reticence just a teeny weeny bit too far?
An important civic occasion was practically wrecked at a meeting of the Common Council of the City of Saint John, when among expenditures representing hundreds and thousands of dollars submitted for Council’s approval by the Comptroller, this item bobbed up:
Repairs to Stubb’s trousers...........$.50
Mayor Ellison of Regina says he is feeling younger these days because of a conversation he had recently with a citizen who has been on the relief rolls for ever so long.
“How are things with you?” asked the Mayor. “Everything’s fine. I’m off relief now.”
“Well. well. That’s grand; but how are you making out?”
“I’m all right. I’m on Old Age Pension. I’m going on a trip soon. Going to visit my father.”
“I see. I suppose your father’s on Old Age Pension, too?” “No, sir! Not my father. He’s farming.”
They had quite a time of it in the Winnipeg offices of the Manitoba Power Commission a week or so back, on Kiwanis Apple Day. Two co-workers in this particular establishment are friendly rivals in their service club allegiances. One is a staunch Kiwanian, the other an equally zealous Kinsman. On Apple Day this year the Kiwanis representative brought along the biggest, rosiest apple he could find to display to the t>oys and girls in the office. The Kinsman offered to set a new' record for putting the bite on an apple, if he could have first turn. The deal was made, the biter took the fruit, opened his mouth wide, then wider, then put in an extra stretch—and dislocated his jaw.
The victim now' is more than ever convinced that his is the superior organization. The Kinsmen also, it appears, sell for charity every so often. They sell peanuts.
With the new hockey season just around the corner of the calendar, there is a particularly bitter taste in the dilemma of the enterprising secretary of an Ontario softball league, who, planning a benefit match for an injured player, thought up the bright idea of inviting Mr. Sylvanus Apps, internationally famous star of the Toronto Maple Leafs hockey club, to umpire the game, thus adding glamor to the occasion and attracting more paying customers to the turnstiles. Mr. Apps’ native town is Paris, Ont., and the letter of invitation w'as sent there. After a lapse of some weeks, during which the missive was forwarded from Paris to a Toronto address, it was returned to the astonished sender, curtly marked by a brutally callous and unsporting post office, "UNKNOWN.”
One of the less progressive of Ontario’s agriculturists has a small farm near Camp Borden where he and his wife live in what amounts to complete seclusion from the world. A few weeks ago there were troop movements and sham battles at the Camp, and one day the aged farmer was shocked to see large bodies of armed men marching past his property. He went at once to investigate. It chanced that the particular regiment on the march was a FrenchCanadian unit, and officers, N.C.O.’s and men were, of course, giving and receiving orders and carrying on conversations in their own tongue. Horrified, the old man bolted for the house and rushed into the kitchen, where his wife was getting supper ready:
“Millie!” he cried. “Didn’t I say all along we should’ve been taking a paper? Here’s the Germans right on top of us and we didn’t know a thing about it.”
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