Teacher: “If you have seven apples and I asked for three, how many would you have left?”

Pupil: “Seven.”

— Ralph Louis Woods, Modern Handbook of Humor, 1967

The following story has been told, but I have not met with it in its absolute correctness. The Duke of Wellington received a letter, while sitting in the House of Lords, from an eminent landscape designer and great authority on botanical matters, J.C. Loudon. The duke had lost sight of him for some years. It was a note to this effect: ‘My Lord Duke–It would gratify me extremely if you would permit me to visit Strathfieldsaye at any time convenient to your grace, and to inspect the Waterloo beeches. Your grace’s faithful servant, J.C. Loudon.’ The Waterloo beeches were trees that had been planted immediately after the battle of Waterloo, as a memorial of the great fight. The duke read the letter twice, the writing of which was not very clear, and, with his usual promptness and politeness, replied as follows, having read the signature as ‘J.C. London,’ instead of ‘J.C. Loudon.’ ‘My dear Bishop of London–It will always give me great pleasure to see you at Strathfieldsaye. Pray come there whenever it suits your convenience, whether I am at home or not. My servant will receive orders to show you as many pairs of my breeches as you may wish, but why you should wish to inspect those I wore at the battle of Waterloo is quite beyond the comprehension of Yours most truly, Wellington.’ The letter was received, as may be supposed, with great surprise by the Bishop of London. He showed it to the Archbishop of Canterbury and to other discreet persons; they came to the melancholy conclusion that the great Duke of Wellington had evidently lost his senses. The Bishop of London (Blomfield) declared that he had not written to the duke for two years and to receive this extraordinary intimation puzzled the whole bench of bishops. Explanations, however, of a satisfactory kind, followed and the friendship of these worthy men was not changed.

— William Augustus Fraser, quoted in Wit, Wisdom and Foibles of the Great, 1918

An Englishman and an Irishman signed on a vessel to work their passage to the United States. The captain insisted the Irishman produce references but did not ask the Englishman for any. This infuriated the Irishman. One day the two men were washing down the deck. The Englishman threw a bucket overboard to get more water and in the process fell overboard and was swallowed up by the sea. The Irishman went to the captain.

‘You remember,’ he said, ‘that you made me give references but not that Englishman.’

‘Yes,’ said the captain, ‘I remember all the fuss you made about it, too.’

‘Well,’ said the Irishman, ‘I just want you to know that the Englishman has now gone off with your pail.’

— Ralph Louis Woods, Modern Handbook of Humor, 1967

A whimsical traveler on one of the main trails in the State of Georgia painted, on a large rock, the words, ‘Turn Me Over.’ Other travelers heaved and struggled to turn the rock over. On the underside of it they found painted, ‘Now Turn Me Back That I May Fool Another.’

— H. Allen Smith, The Compleat Practical Joker, 1953

A touring lecturer started off his favorite lecture: ‘A million years ago this earth was trod by dinosaurs.’ He was immediately interrupted by a well-meaning old lady in the audience, who said, ‘You mean a million and eight years ago, don’t you?’ ‘Why do you say that?’ queried the lecturer. ‘Because I heard you give this same lecture eight years ago,’ explained the old lady.

— Howard Eves, Mathematical Circles Revisited, 1971

A newspaper reporter submitted a story about the theft of 2,025 pigs.

His editor, struck at the size of the theft, called the farmer to confirm.

“Is it true that you lost two thousand twenty-five pigs?” he asked.

“Yeth,” said the farmer.

The editor thanked him, hung up, and changed the phrase to “two sows and 25 pigs.”

Once upon a time, Master Hobson, who was a rich haberdasher in the Poultry, lying in St Alban’s, there came certain musicians to play at his chamber door, hoping that, as they filled his ears with their music, he would fill their purses with money; whereupon he told one of the servants of the inn (that waited upon him) to go and tell them that he did not then want to hear their music, for he mourned for the death of his mother. So the musicians, disappointed of their purpose, went away. The fellow that heard him speak of mourning, asked him how long it was since he buried his mother. ‘Truly,’ quoth Master Hobson, ‘it is now very nearly forty years ago.’

— William Carew Hazlitt, The New London Jest Book, 1871

A Roman Catholic who had filled up the measure of his iniquities as far as he dared went to the priest to confess and obtain absolution. He entered the apartment of the priest and addressed him thus, ‘Holy father, I have sinned.’

The priest bade him kneel before the penitential chair. The penitent was looking about, and saw the priest’s gold watch lying upon the table within his reach; he seized it and put it in his bosom. The priest approached him and requested him to acknowledge the sins for which he wished absolution.

‘Father,’ said the rogue, ‘I have stolen, and what shall I do?’ ‘Restore,’ said the priest, ‘the thing you have stolen to its rightful owner.’ ‘Do you take it,’ said the penitent. ‘No, I shall not,’ said the priest; ‘you must give it to the owner.’ ‘But he has refused to take it.’ ‘If this be the case you may keep it.’

The priest granted him full absolution; and the penitent knelt and kissed his hand, craved his benediction, crossed himself, and departed with a clear conscience, and a very valuable gold watch into the bargain.

— Walter Baxendale, Dictionary of Anecdote, Incident, Illustrative Fact, 1888