The math teacher saw that little Johnny wasn’t paying attention in class. She called on him and said, “Johnny, what are 2 and 4 and 28 and 44?”
Little Johnny quickly replied, “NBC, CBS, HBO and the Cartoon Network!”
Remember the Alamo
Texas makes me think of the old slogan “Remember the Alamo.” It seems that during that battle, the guy in charge of the whole thing put his wife, of all people, on the battle line. She was shot by the enemy, shattered her patella, and had to be removed from the front line.
After the fighting was over, she divorced her husband, and sued for Alamo knee.
Q: What’s stranger than seeing a catfish?
A: Seeing a goldfish bowl.
Q: How do you fix a broken tuba?
A: With a “tuba glue.”
Parts is Parts
Fred was telling his friend how his uncle tried to make a new car for himself… “so he took wheels from a Cadillac, a radiator from a Ford, some tires and fenders from a Plymouth…”
“Holy Cow,” interrupted his friend, “What did he end up with?”
And Fred replied, “Two years.”
Q: What happened when the wheel was invented?
A: It caused a revolution.
Q: What do you call a sleepwalking nun?
A: A roamin’ Catholic
The two ladies were sitting in the living room, waiting for their hostess, who was slightly delayed. The daughter of the family was with them, on the theory that she would keep the visitors occupied during the wait.
The child was about six years old, snub nosed, freckled, buck-toothed and bespectacled. She maintained a deep silence and the two ladies peered doubtfully at her.
Finally, one of them muttered to the other, “Not very p-r-e-t-t-y, I fear,” carefully spelling the key word.
Whereupon the child piped up, “But awfully s-m-a-r-t!”
BISHOP SIMPSON’S RECOVERY.
Bishop Bowman, of the M.E. Church, gives the following instance from his own experience:
“ In the fall of 1858, whilst visiting Indiana, I was at an annual conference where Bishop Janes presided. We received a telegram that Bishop Simpson was dying. Said Bishop Janes: “Let us spend a few moments in earnest prayer for the recovery of Bishop Simpson.” We kneeled to pray. William Taylor, the great California street-preacher, was called to pray; and such a prayer I never heard since.
The impression seized upon me irresistibly, Bishop Simpson will not die. I rose from my knees perfectly quiet. Said I:
“Bishop Simpson will not die.” “Why do you think so?” “Because I have had an irresistible impression made upon my mind during this prayer.”’ Another said: “I have the same impression.” We passed it along from bench to bench, until we found that a very large proportion of the conference had the same impression. I made a minute of the time of day, and when I next saw Simpson, he was attending to his daily labor. I inquired of the bishop: “How did you recover from your sickness?” He replied: “I cannot tell.” “What did your physician say?” “He said it was a miracle.” I then said to the bishop: “Give me the time and circumstances under which the change occurred.’ He fixed upon the day, and the very hour, making allowance for the distance a thousand miles away that the preachers were engaged in prayer at this conference. The physician left his room and said to his wife: “It is useless to do anything further; the bishop must die.” In about an hour he returned, and started back, inquiring: “What have you done?” “Nothing,” was the reply. “He is recovering rapidly,” said the physician; “a change has occurred in the disease within the last hour beyond anything I have ever seen; the crisis is past, and the bishop will recover.” And he did.”
The doctor was puzzled; it was beyond all the course and probabilities of nature, and the laws of science. What was it that made those ministers so sure — what was it that made the patient recover, at the exact hour that they prayed? There is only one answer: “The ever-living power of a Superior Spirit which rules the world.” — Wonders of Prayer.
HEALED OF DIPHTHERIA.
In the fall of 1885, our oldest boy, then two and one-half years old, was taken very ill. Diphtheria had for some time been raging to a considerable extent in the city of Grand Rapids, where we then resided. But a short time before, friends, who had just buried a little daughter, who had died of that disease, had visited at our home. Our little Rolin’s throat was badly cankered, he could no longer lie down without strangling; and we felt that by naught but the power and mercy of God, could he be spared to us. With a sad, aching heart, I laid away his little playthings, thinking I might never see him use them again; and as I looked over to the cemetery on the hill beyond us, a great yearning cry of anguish went up from my soul, as I thought that, in all human probability, I might be called within a few days, to there lay away the form of my darling.
More from a sense of regard for the feelings and convictions of others, than because of any confidence in the power of human remedies to meet the demands of the case, husband sent for a physician. As the one sent for was not in his office; the friend who went for him brought another, prominent for skill and experience. After careful examination, he pronounced the child dangerously ill of diphtheria, and said to the friend who brought him: “They do not realize how sick that child is; whatever is done for him must be done quickly.” He would leave no medicine, unless we gave him entire charge of the case, and this we did not feel ready to do.
After his departure, husband said to me: “If you wish me to send for the other physician, I will do so; but for myself, I can as easily exercise faith in God to heal Rolin as to trust Him for means to pay a doctor.”
Then, while I sat with Rolin in my arms, he knelt and prayed. As he plead with God that, if it were according to His will and for His glory, He would spare and heal the child He had given us, I knew he was wonderfully helped of the Spirit.
When he arose he told me that he had the positive assurance that his prayer was heard, and that Rolin would recover.
For hours previous, the sick one had been suffering greatly; but he immediately appeared very much better, and soon dropped into a sweet sleep. We laid him down among the pillows, and soon after retired, and that night we all slept well. The next morning, Rolin was up, dressed, and playing as usual about the house, and there was no more sign of diphtheria in his case.
In a short time a sister in the Lord, who had been with the previous afternoon, but who left at about the time we sent for the physician, and who knew nothing of what had transpired in her absence, came to the door. As I met her she said: “I have good news for you. Rolin is going to get well.” And upon careful inquiry we found that at very nearly, if not exactly, the same time that husband said to me that God had assured him that Rolin would recover, this sister, then a mile and a half away, had testified the very same thing to those that were with her.
A few weeks later, husband was just as miraculously healed of the same disease, and the very next day rode over twenty miles in a cutter; and though it was a very cold, raw, windy November day, his throat did not trouble him in the least.
Yours in the love of Jesus.
– Mrs. S. B. Shaw