Parade

How to stop the fidgets in church

March 30 1957
Parade

How to stop the fidgets in church

March 30 1957

How to stop the fidgets in church

^Parade

The problem of fidgety youngsters in church has been solved by a minister’s wife in Broadview, Sask., who naturally takes special pains to assure that her own toddler doesn't interrupt daddy’s sermon. She fills a small cardboard box with puffed wheat, seals it and then pokes a tiny hole in one corner, just large enough to let one grain come through at a time. As the sermon starts, mother produces the box from her purse. The fascinated youngster takes the box in one hand, lets a puffed wheat dribble out into the other, eats it, shakes out an-

other. and so on until the benediction. The tot can’t eat enough of the puffs to spoil her Sunday dinner, and even if she spills a few the tiny kernels make little muss.

A fellow in Victoria who confesses television has always baffled him—pictures through the air, indeed!—says he has now found out it has something to do with sea gulls. When he stopped on the street to chat with a neighbor the other day. the neighbor waved upward and said, “Look what happened to my TV antenna when three big sea gulls started a fight over who should sit on it.” The spokes were bent every which way and our informant expressed his sympathy. "Best thing that ever happened,” declared his neighbor. “Never could get channel four properly. Now it comes in fine.”

A middle-grader in a London, Ont., public school, broke into tears just before leaving home the other morning. Due to make her first speech in class, she sobbed out that she was scared stiff, she couldn’t remember what she was supposed to say and it was no good anyway. Mother did her best to convince her that the main thing was to make a good try at it, and eventually sent her on her way at least a little bucked up. By noon mother was in a tizzy herself, waiting to hear the results. When her daughter finally raced into the house and burst into fresh sobbing, mother exclaimed helplessly, “Surely it couldn't have been all that bad, dear.” Finally controlling her tears the youngster declared, “Mother, that's not it at all. Now I’m on the debating team.”

Near Carlea, Sask., Farmer Jones was getting pretty sick of the daily visits by Farmer Brown’s dog—a nice enough pup but always begging to get into the house, or out of the house, or for something to eat. One day when the dog yelped and barked its plea to be allowed into the truck as Jones prepared to drive to town, a wicked thought occurred to the bothered farmer and he took the dog along. Well, that dog took some losing, but Jones finally managed it by ducking in the front door of a hardware store and out the back. Then he made his last call, purchasing a mattress, which he threw on the back of the truck, and headed hastily for home before the dog could pick up his trail. He was bouncing along, halfway home, before he looked back and discovered the mattress had tumbled off on the bumpy road. Muttering furiously he turned around and drove nearly to town again before he spied the mattress lying in the ditch, and resting comfortably on it the panting dog, waiting patiently for him to come back for both of them.

Disaster struck suburbia one night in Milton. Ont., when a young man who was newly wed and even newer at the build-it-yourself game set out to construct a set of shelves. He marched nonchalantly into the house with a long plank and knocked over a table lamp—a

wedding present, of course. Startled by the crash he backed up and there was a second crash as the opposite end of the board went through a window. Furious he hurled the plank, like a mighty javelin, through the window. Out of the winter darkness came a third crash as the plank slithered across the icy driveway and through his neighbor's cellar window.

Advertisement by a desperate sales manager, in the Vancouver Sun: “Wanted: salesman to work five days a week to replace one who didn’t."

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