Funny clean jokes
This is the dialogue between a little girl and a little boy:
“What are you bawling about, Jimmie?”
“I’m cryin’ because maw has wented to heaven.”
“That’s silly. Maybe she hain’t.”
* * *
Little Alice questioned her mother concerning heaven, and seemed pleased to be assured that she would have wings and harp and crown.
“And candy, too, mamma?”
The mother shook her head.
“Anyhow,” Alice declared, “I’m tickled we have such a fine doctor.”
The woman, who had a turn-up nose and was somewhat self-conscious concerning it, bought a new pug dog, and petted it so fondly as to excite the jealousy of her little daughter.
“How do you like your new little brother?” she asked the child teasingly.
The girl replied, rather maliciously, perhaps:
“He looks just like his muvver.”
Two men were talking together in the Public Library. One of them said:
“The dime novel has gone. I wonder where it’s gone to?”
The other, who knew something of literature in its various phases, answered cynically:
“It’s gone up to a dollar and ninety cents.”
Mike, the hod-carrier, was still somewhat fuddled when he arose Monday morning, with the result that he put on his overalls wrong side to; with the further result, that he was careless while mounting the ladder later with a load of bricks, and fell to the ground. As he raised himself into a sitting position, a fellow workman asked solicitously:
“Are yez kilt intoirly, Mike?”
Mike, with drooping head, stared down dully at the seat of his overalls, and shook his head.
“No,” he declared in a tone of awe, “I’m not kilt, but I’m terrible twisted.”
* * *
A rustic visitor to the city made a desperate run for the ferry boat as it was leaving the slip. He made a mighty leap, and covered the intervening space, then fell sprawling to the deck, where he lay stunned for about two minutes. At last he sat up feebly, and stared dazedly over the wide expanse of water between boat and shore.
“Holy hop-toads!” he exclaimed in a tone of profound awe. “What a jump!”
A Kansas editor hit on the following gentle device for dunning delinquent subscribers to the paper:
“There i$ a little matter that $ome of our $ub$criber$[Pg 121] have $eemingly forgotten entirely. $ome of them have made u$ many promi$e$, but have not kept them. To u$ it i$ a very important matter-it’$ nece$$ary in our bu$me$$. We are very mode$t and don’t like to $peak about $uch remi$$ne$$.”
The faculty were arranging the order of examinations. It was agreed that the harder subjects should be placed first in the list. It was proposed that history should have the final place. The woman teacher of that subject protested:
“But it is certainly one of the easiest subjects,” the head of the faculty declared.
The young woman shook her head, and spoke firmly:
“Not the way I teach it. Indeed, according to my method, it is a very difficult study, and most perplexing.”
* * *
The professor and his wife were doubtful about returning to the farm on which they had passed the previous summer, because they had been somewhat annoyed by the proximity of the pigsty to the house. Finally, the professor wrote to the farmer and explained the objectionable feature. He received the following reply:
“We hain’t had no hogs on the place since you was here last summer. Be sure to come.”
HOLDING HIS OWN
The farmer, after seven years of effort on the stony farm, announced to all and sundry:
“Anyhow, I’m holdin’ my own. I hadn’t nothin’ when I come here, an’ I haven’t nothin’ now.”
The young man had offered his heart and hand to the fair damsel.
“Before giving you my decision,” she said sweetly, “I wish to ask you a question.” Then, as he nodded assent: “Do you drink anything?”
The young man replied without an instant of hesitation and proudly:
And she fell into his arms.
One of our volunteers in the late war lost some of his first enthusiasm under the bitter experience of campaigning. One night at the front in France, while his company was stationed in a wood, a lieutenant discovered the recruit sitting on a log and weeping bitterly. The officer spoke roughly:
“Now, what are you bawling about, you big baby?”
“I wish I was in my daddy’s barn!” replied the soldier in a plaintive voice.
“In your daddy’s barn!” the astonished lieutenant exclaimed. “What for? What would you do if you were in your daddy’s barn?”
“If I was in my daddy’s barn,” the youth explained huskily through a choking sob, “I’d go into the house mighty quick!”
The newly married pair were stopping in a hotel. The bride left the groom in their room while she went out on a brief shopping expedition. She returned in[Pg 124] due time, and passed along the hotel corridor to the door, on which she tapped daintily.
“I’m back, honey-let me in,” she murmured with wishful tenderness. But there was no answer vouchsafed to her plea. She knocked a little more firmly, and raised her voice somewhat to call again:
“Honey, honey-it’s Susie! Let me in!”
Thereupon a very cold masculine voice sounded through the door:
“Madam, this is not a beehive; it’s a bathroom!”
A certain man notorious for his slowness paid attention for two years to a young lady, without coming to the point. The girl’s father thought it time for him to interfere. On the swain’s next visit, the father interviewed him:
“Clinton, you’ve been settin’ up with Nellie, an’ takin’ her to picnics, an’ to church an’ buggy-ridin’, an’ nothin’s come of it. So, now, Clinton, I ask you, as man to man, what be your intentions?”
And Clinton responded unabashed:
“Well, answerin’ you as man to man, I’ll say there hain’t no cause for you to ruffle your shirt. My intentions is honorable-but remote.”
Little Mary, who had fallen ill, begged for a kitten. It was found that an operation was necessary for the[Pg 125] child’s cure, and that she must go to the hospital. The mother promised that if she would be very brave during this time of trial she should have the very finest kitten to be found.
As Mary was coming out from the influence of the anesthetic, the nurse heard her muttering, and stooping, heard these words:
“It’s a bum way to get a cat.”
The good wife apologized to her unexpected guests for serving the apple pie without cheese. The little boy of the family slipped quietly away from the table for a moment, and returned with a cube of cheese, which he laid on the guest’s plate. The visitor smiled in recognition of the lad’s thoughtfulness, popped the cheese into his mouth, and then remarked:
“You must have sharper eyes than your mother, sonny. Where did you find it?”
The boy replied with a flush of pride:
“In the rat-trap.”
Two boys once thought to play a trick on Charles Darwin. They took the body of a centipede, the wings of a butterfly, the legs of a grasshopper and the head of a beetle, and glued these together to form a weird monster. With the composite creature in a box, they visited Darwin.
“Please, sir, will you tell us what sort of a bug this is?” the spokesman asked.
The naturalist gave a short glance at the exhibit and a long glance at the boys.
“Did it hum?” he inquired solemnly.
The boys replied enthusiastically, in one voice:
“Oh, yes, sir.”
“Well, then,” Darwin declared, “it is a humbug.”
The little boy had been warned repeatedly against playing on the lawn when it was damp. Saturday evening, his father heard him recite a Scripture verse learned for the Sunday school.
“‘Put off thy shoes from they feet, for the ground whereon thou standest is–‘” He halted at a loss.
“Is what, my boy?” asked the father.
The slow suitor asked:
“Elizabeth, would you like to have a puppy?”
“Oh, Edward,” the girl gushed, “how delightfully humble of you. Yes, dearest, I accept.”
“That woman never turns away a hungry man.”
“Ah, genuinely charitable!”
“Hardly that. She says, ‘Are you so hungry you want to saw some wood for a dinner?’ And the answer is, ‘No.'”
An amateur sportsman spent the day with dog and gun, but brought home no game. A friend twitted him with his failure:
“Didn’t you shoot anything at all?”
The honest fellow nodded miserably.
“I shot my dog.”
“Why?” his questioner demanded. “Was he mad?”
The sportsman shook his head doubtfully.
“Not exactly mad,” he asserted; “and not so darned tickled neither!”
The paying teller told mournfully of his experience with a strange woman who appeared at his wicket to have a check cashed.
“But, madam,” he advised her, “you will have to get some one to introduce you before I can pay you the money on this check.”
The woman stared at him disdainfully.
“Sir!” she said haughtily. “I wish you to understand that I am here strictly on business. I am not making a social call. I do not care to know you.”
The foreigner, who prided himself on his mastery of colloquial expressions in English, was speaking of the serious illness of a distinguished statesman.
“It would be a great pity,” he declared, “if such a splendid man should kick the ghost.”
* * *
The old man told how his brother made a hazardous descent into a well by standing in the bucket while those above operated the windlass.
“And what happened?” one of the listeners asked as the aged narrator paused.
The old man stroked his beard, and spoke softly, in a tone of sorrowing reminiscence:
“He kicked the bucket.”
Pat was set to work with the circular saw during his first day at the saw mill. The foreman gave careful instructions how to guard against injury, but no sooner was his back turned than he heard a howl from the novice, and, on turning, he saw that Pat had already lost a finger.
“Now, how did that happen?” the foreman demanded.
“Sure,” was the explanation, “I was jist doin’ like this when,-bejabers, there’s another gone!”
An acquaintance encountered in the village inquired of Farmer Jones concerning his wife, who was seriously ill. That worthy scowled and spat, and finally answered in a tone of fretful dejection:
“Seems like Elmiry’s falin’ drefful slow. Dinged if I don’t wish as how she’d git well, or somethin’.”
The ice on the river was in perfect condition. A small boy, with his skates on his arm, knocked at the door of the Civil War veteran, who had lost a leg at Antietam. When the door was opened by the old man, the boy asked:
“Are you going out to-day, sir?”
“Well, no, I guess not, sonny,” was the answer. “Why?”
“If you ain’t,” the boy suggested, “I thought I might like to borrow your wooden leg to play hockey.”
The bashful suitor finally nerved himself to the supreme effort:
“Er-Jenny, do you-think-er-your mother might-er-seriously consider-er-becoming my-er-mother-in-law?”
A lawyer made his way to the edge of the excavation where a gang was working, and called the name of Timothy O’Toole.
“Who’s wantin’ me?” inquired a heavy voice.
“Mr. O’Toole,” the lawyer asked, “did you come from Castlebar, County Mayo?”
“I did that.”
“And your mother was named Bridget and your father Michael?”
“It is my duty, then,” said the lawyer, “to inform you, Mr. O’Toole, that your Aunt Mary has died in Iowa, leaving you an estate of sixty thousand dollars.”
There was a short silence below, and then a lively commotion.
“Are you coming, Mr. O’Toole?” the lawyer called down.
“In wan minute,” was bellowed in answer. “I’ve just stopped to lick the foreman.”
It required just six months of extremely riotous living for O’Toole to expend all of the sixty thousand dollars. His chief endeavor was to satisfy a huge inherited thirst.
Then he went back to his job. And there, presently, the lawyer sought him out again.
“It’s your Uncle Patrick, this time, Mr. O’Toole,” the lawyer explained. “He has died in Texas, and left you forty thousand dollars.”
O’Toole leaned heavily on his pick, and shook his head in great weariness.
“I don’t think I can take it,” he declared. “I’m not as strong as I wance was, and I misdoubt me that I could go through all that money and live.”
* * *
In a London theatre, a tragedy was being played. The aged king tottered to and fro on the stage as he declaimed:
“On which one of my two sons shall I bestow the crown?”
A voice came down from the gallery:
“Hi saye, guv’nor, myke it ‘arf a crown apiece.”
* * *
Said one Tommy to another:
“That’s a snortin’ pipe, Bill. Where’d you happen on it?”
“It was pussonal property of a Boche what tried to take me prisoner,” was the answer. “Inherited it from him.”
The sweet little girl had a violent tussle with her particular chum. Her mother reprimanded her, and concluded by saying:
“It was Satan who suggested to you the pulling of Jenny’s hair.”
“I shouldn’t be surprised,” the child replied musingly. “But,” she added proudly, “kicking her in the shins was entirely my own idea.”
The child sat by the road bawling loudly. A passer-by asked him what was the matter.
“My ma, she’s gone and drowned the kittens,” the boy wailed.
“Oh, isn’t that too bad!” was the sympathetic response.
The child bawled the louder.
“An’ ma she promised me that I could drown ’em.”
A little girl four years old was alone in the nursery with the door closed and fastened when her little brother arrived and expressed a desire to come in. The following was the dialogue:
“I wants to tum in, Sissy.”
“But you tan’t tum in, Tom.”
“But I wants to.”
“Well, I’se in my nightie gown an’ nurse says little boys mus’n’t see little girls in their nightie gowns.”
There was a period of silence during which the astonished little boy reflected on the mystery. It was ended by Sissy’s calling out:
“You tan tum in now, Tom-I tooked it off.”
* * *
The very young clergyman made his first parochial call. He tried to admire the baby, and asked how old it was.
“Just ten weeks old,” the proud mother replied.
And the very young clergyman inquired interestedly:
“And is it your youngest?”
In the smoking car, one of the passengers had an empty coatsleeve. The sharer of his seat was of an inquisitive turn, and after a vain effort to restrain his curiosity, finally hemmed and hawed, and said:
“I beg pardon, sir, but I see you’ve lost an arm.”
The one-armed man picked up the empty sleeve in his remaining hand, and felt of it with every evidence of astonishment.
“Bless my soul!” he exclaimed. “I do believe you’re right.”
* * *
The curiosity of the passenger was excited by the fact that his seatmate had his right arm in a sling, and the following dialogue occurred:
“You broke your arm, didn’t you?”
“Well, yes, I did.”
“Had an accident, I suppose?”
“Not exactly. I did it in trying to pat myself on the back.”
“My land! On the back! Now, whatever did you want to pat yourself on the back for?”
“Just for minding my own business.”
The man suffering from insomnia quite often makes a mistake in calling the doctor, when what he needs is the preacher.
The young wife greeted her husband tearfully on his return from the day’s work.
“Oh, Willie, darling,” she gasped, “I have been so insulted!”
“Insulted!” Willie exclaimed wrathfully. “Insulted by whom?”
“By your mother!” the wife declared, and sobbed aloud.
The husband was aghast, but inclined to be skeptical.
“By my mother, Ella? Why, dearest, that’s nonsense. She’s a hundred miles away.”
“But she did,” the wife insisted. “A letter came to you this morning, and it was addressed in your mother’s writing, so, of course, I opened it.”
“Oh, yes, of course,” Willie agreed, without any enthusiasm.
“And it was written to you all the whole way through, every word of it, except–”
“Except the postscript,” the wife flared. “That was the insult-that was to me.” The tears flowed again. “It said: ‘P. S.-Dear Ella, don’t fail to give this letter to Willie. I want him to read it.'”
* * *
Tom Corwin was remarkable for the size of his mouth. He claimed that he had been insulted by a deacon of his church.
“When I stood up in the class meeting, to relate my experience,” Corwin explained, “and opened my[Pg 135] mouth, the Deacon rose up in front and said, ‘Will some brother please close that window, and keep it closed!'”
The woman at the insurance office inquired as to the costs, amounts paid, etc.
“So,” she concluded, “if I pay five dollars, you pay me a thousand if my house burns down. But do you ask questions about how the fire came to start?”
“We make careful investigation, of course,” the agent replied.
The woman flounced toward the door disgustedly.
“Just as I thought,” she called over her shoulder. “I knew there was a catch in it.”
During a lecture, Artemas Ward once startled the crowd of listeners by announcing a fifteen-minute intermission. After contemplating the audience for a few minutes, he relieved their bewilderment by saying:
“Meanwhile, in order to pass the time, we will proceed with the lecture.”
The profiteer, skimming over the advertisements in his morning paper, looked across the damask and silver and cut glass at his wife, and remarked enviously:
“These inventors make the money. Take cleaners, now, I’ll bet that feller Vacuum has cleared millions.”