Humor

PARADE

AND THEY WERE ALL NAMED JACQUES

December 15 1947
Humor

PARADE

AND THEY WERE ALL NAMED JACQUES

December 15 1947

PARADE

Humor

AND THEY WERE ALL NAMED JACQUES

A BLOWOUT between Blind River and Sault Ste. Marie put a Fort William couple in a bad spot the other night: they didn’t have a jack. Fortunately another car came along just then and stopped to help, but their hopes faded when one of three husky young French Canadians, who piled out, exclaimed “Blowout, hah? No jack here!” But then the spokesman added “That’s nothingwe lift him.”

They did, too heaved up the front end of the car with such suddenness and ease that the driver’s wife was dumped over sideways on the back seat. Hilariously profane repartee filled the night while the motorist speedily changed the tire, then the three young Sampsons settheir burden down gently and drove on, brushing off all thanks with “Nothing to it someday maybe we need help.”

• • •

Waitress in a Toronto eatery was very busy hustling up orders the other noontime—a good many of which were sandwiches to be wrapped and coffee to be cartoned to take

out. A gent at the counter finished his meal, asked for his bill and told the girl “I’d like a loaf of bread, too, please.”

“To take out?” asked the waitress absently.

“No,” muttered the customer acidly, “just slice it and I’ll eat it right here.”

• • •

The housewife who called the city desk switchboard at the Vancouver Province talked in an exaggeratedly casual manner. “Remember when Vancouver water was being chlorinated during the war?” she told the switchboard girl. “Well—I had two babies during the war and I noticed a funny thing. The first tip-off I got each time was one morning I’d suddenly feel dizzy after smoking a cigarette.”

“Uh-huh,” assented the operator blankly, “—but what’s that go to do with chlorination?”

“Just this,” explained the caller. “I had my first baby before the chlorination began—and that time I could smoke without getting dizzy. You see, it took cigarette, baby and chlorination toset my head whirling!”

“I see,” said the operator, “But what can we do for you, madam?”

“Well,” went on the woman, now

speaking with an almost offhand air, “I know that chlorination stopped when the war ended, but this morning I had a smoke after washing the diahes and all of a sudden—that same old dizziness! So I just, thought you could tell me . . . the city hasn’t by any chance started chlorinating the water again, has it?”

The gal gulped and spluttered compassionately, “Y— yes they have. We carried stories about it last spring!”

Dead silence at the other end of the line. Then the caller said “Oh!” in a very small voice, and hung up.

• • •

A Saskatchewan lady recently entertained a clergyman for dinner. Just as the maid brought in a plate of cream cheese the hostess recalled that her guest, an old family friend, had a mild passion for nutmeg on his cheese.

“We have no nutmeg, ma’am,” replied the maid to her employer’s request. The hostess suggested she see if one of their neighbors could oblige. The girl was back in no time and the cleric heartily enjoyed his cream cheese and nutmeg. Later the hostess asked the maid which neighbor had proved the Good Samaritan.

“None of the neighbors had any nutmeg,” explained the girl. “I just scraped bits off the handle on the old butcher knife.”

• • •

This one dates way back to last spring, but it came to us the long way around via a scout in Ottawa.

A Montreal woman noticed a man emerging from her neighbor’s house carrying two fur coats on his arm.

“Just a minute,” she called after him. “If you’re from the fur storage company I’d like you to take my coat along, too.”

“I’ll call back for it next trip,” shouted the man over his shoulder.

“Why not take it now?” demanded the woman. Finally the man agreed, took her coat, scribbled a receipt and

departed. Wasn’t till her neighbor returned and started yelling for the police that the woman realized she’d gone to an awful lot of trouble to talk a thief into adding her coat to his loot.