A Preacher wanted to raise money for his church and, being told there were fortunes in Race horses, he decided to purchase one and enter it in the races.
However, at the local auction, the going price for horses was so steep he ended up buying a donkey instead. He figured that since he had it, he might as well go ahead and enter it in the races, and to his surprise the donkey came in third. The next day the racing sheets carried the headlines,
The Preacher was so pleased with the donkey that he entered it in the races again and this time he won! The papers said,
The Bishop was so upset with this kind of publicity that he ordered the Preacher not to enter the donkey in another race. The newspaper printed this headline,
This was just too much for the Bishop and he ordered the Preacher to get rid of the animal. The Preacher decided to give it to a Nun in a nearby convent. The headlines the next day read,
The Bishop fainted. He informed the Nun that she would have to dispose of the donkey and she finally found a farmer who was willing to buy it for $10.00. The paper states,
They buried the Bishop the next day.
AFTER moving to a small town, I found that I really enjoyed the easy going ways of the local merchants. I was concerned, however, when I took my husband's new suit to the cleaners. "Sorry, ma'am," said the clerk, "my wife's not here now, but we could have it ready for you by seven." "That's fine," I said, thinking of times I had waited for days for this service in the city. "Just knock on the back door when you get here," he added, walking away with the suit. "Fine," I said hesitantly. "But don't I need a ticket?" "Nope," he said and started to leave again. "But wait a minute," I persisted. "How will you know which suit is mine?" He gave me a baffled look. "Well," he replied, "you're gonna tell us, aren't you?"
IN OUR community, coming events are posted in removable block letters and numerals on the marquee in the town square. I called the chamber of commerce one day to ask that the following message be put up: "Band Concert. School Auditorium. Friday, 7: 30 p. m." Later, the chamber secretary returned my call. "Could you change the time to 7:45 p.m.?" she requested. "Is there a conflict?" I asked. "No, sir," she assured me. "We just can't find any of our threes."
An Amish boy and his father were visiting a mall. They were amazed by almost everything they saw, but especially by two shiny, silver walls that could move apart and back together again. The boy asked his father, "What is this father?"
The father (never having seen an elevator) responded "Son, I have never seen anything like this in my life, I don't know what it is." While the boy and his father were watching wide-eyed, an old lady in a wheel chair rolled up to the moving walls and pressed a button. The walls opened and the lady rolled between them and into a small room. The walls closed and the boy and his father watched small circles of light with numbers above the wall light up. They continued to watch the circles light up in the reverse direction. The walls opened up again and a beautiful 24 year old woman stepped out. The father said to his son, "Go get your Mother."
You know you live in a small town when you never have to use your turn indicator, because everybody knows where you're going.
You know you live in a small town when if you don't hear a rumor by 12:00 noon, its time to start one.
You know you live in a small town when it's your turn to be mayor.
You know you live between small towns when you pay long distance to call your next door neighbor.
You know you live in a small town when you dial a wrong number and the person on the phone recognizes your voice.
