Poacher:—“Oh, my! Herr Förster, I am so down on my luck, that I thought I’d just go into the woods and shoot—myself.” A Gunner’s Memory A:—“Have you heard the news? The Oberförster shot four deer yesterday!” B:—“He told me he got two.” A:—“Is that possible? Why, I spoke to him only about five minutes ago, at the Golden Star Inn.” B:—“Oh, that explains it. I spoke to him half an hour ago.” Improving Opportunities Clerk (to his principal):—“Can I have this afternoon off, sir,—an old aunt of mine is to be buried?” Principal:—“Very well, but the next time you bury an aunt, you might bring me a couple of rabbits.” A Gunning Yarn A gentleman just returned from Brazil, boasted of the many gorillas he had killed there. “That must have been very difficult,” remarked one of the listeners. “It certainly was,” said the narrator, “but I knew how to take advantage of the monkey’s passion for imitating us.” “How?” “It was very simple. In places where I suspected the presence of gorillas, I loaded a pistol with a blind cartridge, turned it upon myself and fired; then I left a heavily loaded one on the ground and retired. Returning to the place later on, I invariably found the carcass of a gorilla, who had shot himself.” A Sign of Recognition A good shot knows when he has missed; a poor one does not know when he has hit. Too Small a Price Gunner:—“Would you believe that I shot ninety-nine rabbits within two hours?” Host:—“Why don’t you say one hundred at once?” Gunner:—“You don’t think I’d make a liar of myself for just one rabbit?” Banter Lehman:—“Gentlemen, I must tell you a pretty story of my friend Muller! Recently, while out gunning, he shot at a rabbit, but, of course, missed him. Now instead of running away, the rabbit went up to friend Muller, bowed and said quite distinctly: ‘Excuse me, sir, but I wish to congratulate you. You shot at me to-day for the twenty-fifth time, without hitting me!’” Muller:—“My friend Lehman’s story needs a supplement. You must know that I introduced myself to that rabbit. ‘What,’ cried the rabbit, very pale, ‘your name is Muller! I thought it was Lehman!’ and he is off like a flash.” Cautious Förster:—“Sepp, the squire is coming to-day. He is going to hunt.” Sepp:—“Then I had better go at once and lock up the dogs.” Förster:—“Yes, and the calf too. The cow you might leave in the field.” Sepp:—“Don’t know about that.” Förster:—“Well, lock her up too; better be on the safe side.” Queer “Well this is killing! I shoot at a rabbit and hit a snipe!” A Dog’s Intelligence