A couple of drifters were so broke that, against their principles, they went to an employment office for work. "What'll I put where it says 'Experience'?" Joe whispered.

"Try road labour or farm," said Pete.

Joe grimaced and printed painstakingly, his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth.

"Pete," he hissed, "how d'ya spell farm?"

With the superior attitude of an educated man, his friend replied, "E-I-E-I-O."

"How could you POSSIBLY know that??"

"Well," answered the baby, "I wasn't born yesterday you know."

"Here you are, son"

"How dare you call me son?"

"I brought you up didn't I?"

Two seatmates on a flight to Dallas were discussing their occupations. One was a rancher who had a spread not far from town. The other, when asked what he did, said, "I'm a rapid-calculating statistician."

"That's a new one on me," the rancher replied. "What is it you do?"

"Well, for example," the statistician began, "I could do a job for you. When you round up cattle, instead of running them through a gate to get a count, I could just fly over them and tell you exactly how many were there."

"I'd have to see that to believe it," the rancher replied. "Tell you what- before we get to Dallas we'll be flying over a valley where I've just rounded up some cattle. They've all been counted, so I know precisely how many there are. You go ahead and see if you can tell me the number."

The plane was flying low enough to give the statistician a good view. He looked out the window, thought a minute and then announced, "There are 8743."

"Exactly right!" exclaimed the rancher. "That's amazing! How did you do it?"