It’s time for more grins and groans from The Old Farmer’s Almanac. Enjoy some funny jokes and old-time humor.
Got Your Goat
“As I understand it,” said the gentleman, “oleomargarine is made from beef fat.”
“You are undoubtedly right,” replied his friend, “but I should think that the manufacturers would make it of goat fat.”
“Because the goat is a natural butter.”
Out Like a Light
“Blast that lamp!” roared Johnson, who was heating some water for shaving.
“It reminds me of you at the theater,” said Mrs. Johnson, sweetly.
“Reminds you of me!” Johnson thundered. “In what way?”
“Why, this makes the fourth time it has gone out, and every time it goes out, it smells like alcohol.”
Short a Foot
The king of Prussia once held a grand review of his army, at which the prince of Holland was present as his guest. As one of the regiments was passing before their majesties, the king pointed to the men and said, “There is a regiment in which not a single man is less than 6 feet tall.”
“A splendid regiment indeed,” said the prince, “but we can put Holland 7 feet under water.”
A Focus on the Present
The Rubicon had been crossed, the die was cast. He had popped the question and the answer had been yes.
“Dearest,” he said, looking dreamily ahead but still keeping a lock-clutch on her hand, “what matters, what troubles, what sorrow, what perils may be lurking in the unknown future? Now that I have won you, now that I am with you, I think of nothing but the present—the fair, beautiful present.”
“So do I, dear,” the practical maiden confessed coyly. “But will—would you mind?—will you take me with you when you buy it? Men have such funny taste in rings!”
Headed for Trial
A young doctor was a witness at a trial. In cross-examining him, the opposing counsel made several sarcastic remarks doubting the ability of so young a man to understand the profession.
“Do you know the symptoms of a concussion of the brain?” asked the lawyer.
“Well,” continued the lawyer, “suppose my learned friend, Mr. Bagwell, and I were to bang our heads together. Would we get a concussion of the brain?”
Replied the doctor: “Your learned friend Mr. Bagwell might.”
“Poor Wentworth has nine mills running now, but they’re all losing money.”
“Well, he should have known that nine mills would never make a cent.”