Laughing Stock
91.00
Edited by GROSSET & DUNLAP
THERE are some wires crossed here. The book jacket asserts this collection to be “Over 600 of the latest jokes and anecdotes.”In his foreword. Editor Cerf speculates, somewhat nervously, that “good jokes, like good wines, mellow with age.”To this, one might add that Mr. Cerf is treating himself to an excellent word, a word of considerable leverage, in generalizing about “good jokes. Again, the storage conditions and corks must be reckoned on, and even the stoutest. Burgundy reaches a peak in maturity from which the lapse into old age is quick and sour. But, without further joyless beating about the bush, let the reader haste to some mellow specimens. (He need not even stop to inquire whether Mr. Cerf means On a Slow Train Through Arkansas when he refers to Traveling Through Arkansas.) Taking care to loosen our bolts and unbutton our vests, we join Mr. Cerf in guffawing at some of the “good" ones: —
“Papa,” said the doting mother, “Robert’s teacher says he ought to have an encyclopedia.
“Encyclopedia, my eye,” grumbled the father. “Let him walk to school like I did.”
The train was nearing its destination one time when a porter appeared and said, “May I brush you off, madam?
“You may not,” replied Avid icily. “I will descend in the usual manner.”
“Do you know how to make anti-freeze, Mister?”
“Sure. Hide her pajamas. ‘
“Mama,” said little Linda, “do all fairy tales begin with ‘once upon a time’?”
“No, darling,” said Mama grimly. “Sometimes they begin. ‘ My love, I will be detained at the office pretty late tonight..’ ”
”... He ain’t drunk at all,” disputed a fellow townsman. “I jest seen his fingers move.”
“My wooden leg is giving me a lot of pain,’ sighed the patient.
“How can a wooden leg give you pain? the doctor asked.
The patient explained, “My wife hit me over the head with it.”
Two boy scouts were camping in the woods and were hiding under the blankets to ward off hordes of mosquitoes. One of the kids saw a couple of lightning bugs and said to his companion, “We might as well give up, Tony. Those mosquitoes arc out searching for us with lanterns.”
After the laughter has subsided, I daresay we may as well rebutton our vests and go quietly to our homes.
CHARLES W. MORTON