Punny Bone
Rene was busy putting the last touches to a lavish table spread with all sorts of goodies at the annual Descartes’ New Year’s Party.
The guests arrived and Rene was mingeling with them and astounding them with his alacrity of thought, when Mrs. Descartes called to him to take out the special New Year’s meat pies. He placed them on a sideboard away from the main table — intended for the traditional post midnight revel repast.
Still mingeling he espied a hungry guest ranging over toward the meat pies. Like a flash he was upon him.
“Not now Monsieur, he cried, “I think they’re for 1 a.m.!”
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