Car Jokes

Irate Motorist: Say, this darned car won't climb a hill! You said it was a fine machine!

Dealer: I said: 'On the level it's a good car.'

A little "Brush" chugged painfully up to the gate of a race track.

The gatekeeper, demanding the usual fee for automobiles, called:

"A dollar for the car!"

The owner looked up with a pathetic smile of relief and said:

"Sold!"

He: I understand that she fairly threw herself at him.

She: Yes! They met in an automobile collision.

"It was very romantic," says the friend. "He proposed to her in the automobile."

"Yes?" we murmur, encouragingly.

"And she accepted him in the hospital."

"I understand that you have a new motor-car."

"Yes."

"Do you drive it yourself?"

"Nobody drives it. We coax it."

The motor car was driven by a determined young woman, who had knocked down a man without injuring him much.

She did not try to get away. Instead, she stopped the car, descended to the solid earth and faced him manfully.

"I'm sorry it happened," she said grudgingly, "but it was all your fault. You must have been walking carelessly. I'm an experienced driver. I've been driving a car for seven years."

"Well," replied her victim angrily, "I'm not a novice myself. I've been walking for fifty-seven years."

The young man, who was notorious for the reckless driving of his car, was at his home in the country, when he received a telephone call, and a woman's voice asked if he intended to go motoring that afternoon.

"No, not this afternoon," he replied. "But why do you ask? Who are you?"

"That doesn't matter," came the voice over the wire. "It's only that I wish to send my little girl down the street on an errand."

"How fast is your car, Jimpson?" asked Harkaway.

"Well," said Jimpson, "it keeps about six months ahead of my income generally."

Teacher: If a man saves $2 a week, how long will it take him to save a thousand?

Boy: He never would, ma'am. After he got $900 he'd buy a car.

A man went to an insurance office to have his life insured the other day.

"Do you cycle?" the insurance agent asked.

"No," said the man.

"Do you motor?"

"No."

"Do you, then, perhaps, fly?"

"No, no," said the applicant, laughing; "I have no dangerous—"

But the agent interrupted him curtly.

"Sorry, sir," he said, "but we no longer insure pedestrians."

"What little boy can tell me the difference between the 'quick' and the 'dead'?" asked the Sunday school teacher.

Willie waved his hand frantically.

"Well, Willie?"

"Please, ma'am, the 'quick' are the ones that get out of the way of automobiles; the ones that don't are the 'dead.'"

"What kind of a time is he having on his motor-trip?"

"Guess he's having a pretty lively time. He sent me a picture postcard of a hospital."

Dad (sternly): Where were you last night?

Son: Oh, just riding around with some of the boys.

Dad: Well, tell 'em not to leave their hairpins in the car.

The old lady from the country and her small son were driving to town when a huge automobile bore down upon them. The horse was badly frightened and began to prance, whereupon the old lady leaped down and waved wildly to the chauffeur, screaming at the top of her voice.

The chauffeur stopped the car and offered to help get the horse past.

"That's all right," said the boy, who remained composedly in the carriage, "I can manage the horse. You just lead Mother past."

"My brother bought a motor here last week," said an angry man to the salesman that stepped up to greet him, "and he said if anything broke you would supply him with new parts."

"Certainly," said the salesman. "What does he want?"

"He wants two deltoid muscles, a couple of kneecaps, one elbow, and about half a yard of cuticle," said the man, "and he wants them at once."

Two Marylanders, who were visiting the National Museum at Washington, were seen standing in front of an Egyptian mummy, over which hung a placard bearing the inscription "B.C. 1187."

Both visitors were much mystified thereby. Said one:

"What do you make of that, Bill?"

"Well," said Bill, "I dunno; but maybe it was the number of the motor-car that killed him."

"What brought you here, my man?" asked the prison visitor.

"Just plain absent-mindedness," replied the prisoner.

"Why, how could that be?"

"I forgot to change the engine number of the car before I sold it."

Gramercy: Why don't you have your old car repainted?

Park: Wouldn't think of such a thing. It's been stolen a dozen times and has the finest collection of fingerprints you ever saw.

A school girl was required to write an essay of two hundred and fifty words about a motorcar. She submitted the following:

"My uncle bought a motorcar. He was riding in the country when it busted up a hill. I guess this is about fifty words. The other two hundred are what my uncle said when he was walking back to town, but they are not fit for publication."

A gentleman who was visiting his lawyer for the purpose of making his will, insisted that a final request be attached to the document. The request was that his Ford car be buried with him after he died. His lawyer tried to make him see how absurd this was, but failed, so he asked the gentleman's wife to use her influence with him. She did the best she could, but she also failed.

"Well, John," she said finally, "tell me why you want your Ford car buried with you?"

"Because I have never gotten into a hole yet but what my Ford could pull me out," was the reply.

Young lady on a country road in a Ford car which has bucked and refuses to move, asks a farmer who is plowing in an adjoining field: "Do you know anything about a Ford?"

"Nope—nothing except a lot of stories, ma'am—giddap."

The motorist was a stranger in Boston's streets. It was evening. A man approached.

"Sir," said he, "your beacon has ceased its functions."

"What?" gasped the astonished driver.

"Your illuminator, I say, is shrouded in unmitigated oblivion."

"I don't quite—"

"The effulgence of your irradiator has evanesced."

"My dear fellow, I—"

"The transversal ether oscillations in your incandenser have been discontinued."

Just then a little newsboy came over and said:

"Say, mister, your lamp's out!"

The visitor from the city stopped in at the general store of the village, and inquired:

"Have you anything in the shape of automobile tires?"

"Yep," the store-keeper answered briskly, "life-preservers, invalid cushions, funeral wreaths, doughnuts, and such."

An irate customer complained to her butcher about finding pieces of rubber in the sausage meat and demanded an explanation. The butcher said, "It is only another proof of how the automobile is taking the place of the horse."

Every normal man has two great ambitions. First, to own his home. Second, to own a car to get away from his home.

Steve: That Smith guy of the Meadow Bottom Development Company has got the fastest car in this neck of the country. He makes ninety miles an hour.

Hank: Some car! What's he want of such a speed demon?

Steve: He's gotta have it when he's advertising his development as being five minutes from the station.

"Didn't anybody criticize you for filming an automobile in ancient Babylon?"

"No. But I had a dozen letters calling my attention to the fact that the car showed a California license tag."

There is a lot to be said for the cheap car, we read. Yes; but it is just as well not to say it when there are women and children around.

"This car cost me thirty-five hundred dollars, Blathers, but I'll let you have it for two thousand, eh? It's a clean gift of fifteen hundred," said Bolivar. "Eh, what do you say?"

"No," said Blathers, "I can't do that; but suppose you give me five hundred dollars and keep the car, eh? Clean saving of a thousand, eh? What?"

Visitor: Can I see that motorist who was brought here an hour ago?

Nurse: He hasn't come to his senses yet.

Visitor: Oh, that's all right. I only want to sell him another car.

Hurry: What's happened to Speeder? I haven't seen him for weeks.

Cane: Oh, he tried all the different makes of cars and then bought an airplane.

Hurry: Has he crashed?

Cane: Well, not exactly. He started on a cross-country flight the other day, heard something rattle and absent-mindedly climbed out to look under the machine.

"You tell me," said the judge, "that this is the person who knocked you down with his motor-car. Could you swear to the man?"

"I did," returned the complainant, eagerly, "but he only swore back at me and drove on."

"Yes, indeed," argues the Ford salesman, "this little car is a great investment. You put a few dollars into a Ford and right away it runs into thousands."

A tourist was just emerging from a corn-field by the roadside, bearing in his arms a dozen handsome roasting ears. A second car approached and stopped, whereon the tourist reached for his pocketbook and asked in an embarrassed manner, "How much?"

"One dollar," said the newcomer, and then, after receiving payment, remarked, "This is a fine field of corn. Wonder who it belongs to?"

The wicked garage-keeper was trying to figure out his income tax.

"If a man brings his car to me to be repaired, and it costs me sixty cents, and I charge him sixteen dollars, what percent profit would I be making?" he demanded of his son and heir.

"I'm sure I don't know, pop," answered that young hopeful. "You'll have to get somebody who knows the rules of grand larceny to tell you that. The rules for percentage wouldn't cover it!"

Recruiting Officer: How about joining the colors? Have you anyone dependent on you?

Motorist: Have I? There are two garage owners, six mechanics, four tire dealers, and every gasoline agent within a radius of 125 miles.

"My girl's father is an undertaker. He has invented an automobile hearse. Folks are just dying to ride in it."

An elderly lady of very prim and severe aspect was seated next to a young couple, who were discussing the merits of their motor-cars.

"What color is your body?" asked the young man of the girl at his side, meaning of course, the body of her motor.

"Oh, mine is pink. What is yours?"

"Mine," replied the man, "is brown with wide yellow stripes."

This was too much for the old lady. Rising from the table, she exclaimed:

"When young people come to asking each other the color of their bodies at a dinner-party, it is time I left the room."

"What you want to do is to have that mudhole in the road fixed," said the visitor.

"That goes to show," replied Farmer Corntassel, "how little you reformers understand local conditions. I've pretty near paid off a mortgage with the money I made hauling automobiles out of that mud-hole."

"So you bought one of those automobiles they tell so many funny stories about?"

"Yes," replied Mr. Chuggins. "And it is saving me a lot of trouble and wear and tear. When your friends tell you jokes about your car they don't expect you to ask them to ride in it."

A farmer noticing a man in automobile garb standing in the road and gazing upward, asked him if he were watching the birds.

"No," he answered, "I was cranking my Ford car and my hand slipped off and the thing got away and went straight up in the air."

A boy stood with one foot on the sidewalk and the other on the step of a Ford automobile. A playmate passed him, looked at his position, then sang out: "Hey, Bobbie, have you lost your other skate?"

"I have never owned any automobiles," said the man who hadn't yet paid for his home, "but I can say one thing in praise of them."

"What is that?" inquired Henderson.

"They have made mortgages respectable."

"We deny ourselves much. I am saving to build a house."

"Is your wife cheerful about it?"

"Oh, yes. She thinks we're saving for an automobile."

"What makes you carry that horrible shriek machine for an automobile signal?"

"For humane reasons," replied Mr. Chugging. "If I can paralyze a person with fear he will keep still and I can run to one side of him."

"I don't think I'll buy the house, but I've enjoyed the ride out here. You run a good car."

"Yes, I'm agent for this make. Can I book your order?"

The only trouble with a 60-horsepower motor is that every darned horse balks at the same time.

Mother: Tommy, if you're pretending to be an automobile, I wish you'd run over to the store and get me some butter.

Tommy: I'm awful sorry, Mother, but I'm all out of gasoline.