The master, to impress on his pupils the need of thinking before speaking, told them to count to fifty before saying anything important, and one hundred if it was very important.
Next day he was speaking, standing with his back to the fire, when he noticed several lips moving rapidly.
Suddenly the whole class shouted: "Ninety eight, ninety-nine, one hundred... Your coat's on fire, sir!"
A little boy was roughhousing with his dog. His mother said to him, "Now, Peter, I know you love Granger, but you're loving him too much. How would you feel if someone huge picked you up and squeezed you so hard you couldn't breathe?"
The boy thought a moment and then said, "I guess I'd feel like it was my birthday and Aunt Doreen was here."