Welland History .ca

Historic EVENTS in and around Welland

Results for ‘Humour’


[Welland Tribune, 28 August 1885]

There is a family named Shirley in Sharp county, living between Hardee and Williford, in which the children have been given names that are startling if not euphonious. The old gentleman, whose name is Elisha Shirley, is a tie maker, hewing out ties for the railroads. His wife’s name is Harriet Susannah Maria Jane Shirley, and their oldest daughter, fifteen years old, is called Ann Elizabeth Dixie Shirley. Then comes Benjamin Kirby Smith General Hardee Shirley, aged thirteen; Robert Enos Napoleon Bonaparte Lee Wilkes Booth Shirley, who is nine years old. John Thomas Emanuel Forest Champion Gatewood Shirley is seven years old, while Joseph Wheeler Zollicoffer Stonewall Jackson Sam Hildebrand Sterling Price Shirley is five years old. The family ends with Mary Virginia South Carolina Florida Georgia Alabama Louisiana Shirley, who is three years old. The old gentleman ran for the legislature last year and secured five votes, which shows that a good man does not always get his deserts.

Little Rock, {Ark.} Gazette.


[Welland Telegraph, 12 June 1891]

To have so much to do that there is no time for morbid.

To never think for a moment that you are not attractive, and to make yourself look as charming as possible.

To be so considerate of the happiness of others that it will be reflected back to you as from a looking glass.

To never permit yourself to grow old, for by cultivating all the graces of heart, brain and body, age will not come upon you.

To believe that a life work has been mapped out for you, that it is near you, and to do that which your hands find for you.

To remember that the happy old maid is the one member of the family who, not having any other claims on her, can be God’s own sunshine to those in sorrow or in joy.

-From The Ladies’ Home Journal.


[The Welland-Port Colborne Evening Tribune, 9 December 1931]

The motor car has not yet, unfortunately, lived down the reputation as a slayer, acquired a century ago by its immediate predecessor, the steam carriage.

In June, 1831, “Mr. Gurney’s Steam Carriage,” while giving exhibition runs in the square of the cavalry barracks at Glasgow, suddenly exploded, fatally injuring some of the daring passengers. The accident prompted Tom Hood to write:

Instead of journeys, people now
May go upon a Gurney,
With steam to do the horse’s work
By power of attorney.


[Welland Tribune, 8 December 1910]

They were on their honeymoon. He had bought a catboat and had taken her out to show her how well he could handle a boat, putting her to tend the sheet. A puff of wind came, and he shouted in no uncertain tone: “Let go the sheet!” No response. Then again: “Let go the sheet.” No response. Then again: “Let go that sheet, quick!” Still no movement. A few minutes after, when both were clinging to the bottom of the overturned boat, he said:

“Why didn’t you let go that sheet, when I told you to, dear?”

“ I would have,” said the bride, “if you had not been so rough about it. You ought to speak more kindly to your wife.”


[The Welland Tribune and Telegraph, 22 March 1922]

Lawyer- “Now be perfectly frank with  me. Are you innocent or guilty?”

Client- “I am guilty.”

Lawyer- “Ah, an honest man! I shall be able to acquit you.” American Legion Weekly.


[Welland Tribune, 3 May 1895]

The band are practicing an entirely new repertoire of music and will spring it on the public “when the robins nest again.” We had the pleasure of being in the band room the other night and are pleased to say the selections are good. A gentleman of our acquaintance living in the town, severely criticised last season’s music because the boys didn’t play any of the old stand-by pieces that he liked. And when we asked his preference he strung out a list that almost took our breathe away, and the ones he considered worthy of undying fame were “Old Zip Coon” and “Old Dan Tucker.” We never could see any music in such trash as that and are glad the boys haven’t the time to spend on it. There is plenty of time in them, however, when played by an old-fashioned fiddler with big cow-hide boots, his tongue keeping time on both sides of his mouth to the music and his boots making more noise than the fiddle, but deliver us from Zip Tucker and Dan Coon music from a nineteenth century band.


[Welland Telegraph, 28 September 1877]

               General Tyfzssphhjoeriz, late of the Russian army is in town. P. Connolly, Esq., made the acquaintance of this celebrated soldier in Moscow, thirteen years ago, and says he looks as natural as he did on that memorable occasion. It would be infinitely interesting to have the gradual growth of the mind of this gentleman from “boyhood happy days” to mature manhood, but our space will not permit of it; suffice to say, he received the rudiments of his education at the College of Cyymfhhahinmquxxff, where he was noted for his love of “vertigo” (gin). He completed his studies in jurisprudence at Lixemnq Zwfxfmp, after which he entered the army and while in the service of the Czar, the Bash Bazouka nicknamed him Yyangfxtdmhhio-a neat appellation indeed. He is now looking for a building to start a Chinese laundry in.


[Welland Tribune, 30 August 1907]

             A big husky fellow, weighing from 225 to 250 lbs, wandered into the council meeting on Monday night, evidently mistaking that august body for a sunrise court. He took a seat and waited patiently for some time, then informed the mayor that he would like to be “tried next”. Later when a rather animated debate was in progress, he pitched in also, and refused to be quiet. Thereupon Ald. Garner took to eject him, but finding it a difficult job, two other aldermen sprang to his assistance. After a lively tussle the culprit was safely landed in the lockup, from which place he entertained the council with various vocal selections during the remainder of the evening. The man was released in the morning, there being no charge laid against him.


[People’s Press, 1 February 1910]

              Last Thursday arrangements were being made for a kitchen shower in honor of the approaching wedding of one of Welland’s fair belles.

             A kitchen shower, be it known, is an event when all the ladies visit the home of the prospective bride, see her single for the last time; sometimes get a squint at the gown, and present her with anything from an egg cup to a tea kettle.

             “Some one’s dead?”

             “The bride to be has passed away.”

             Happy morsels for the gossips’ tongue and so the news spread. The undertaker was seen carrying in a coffin where the festivities were to be.

             But it was not a coffin, it was only a box of packed camp chairs to accommodate the visitors who were coming with the gifts.

A Moment of Bliss

[Welland Tribune, 26 April 1907]

             This actually occurred in one of the city’s mammoth department stores one day last week. A lady customer stood in one of the aisles in a pensive attitude. She was perhaps meditating on the advisability of investing in some of the finery, when a short-sighted clerk, taking her for one of the lay figures, threw his arms around her and proceeded to carry her towards one of the windows. A vigorous protest was instantly entered by the lady, who was rudely aroused from her reverie, and the blushing clerk, overcome with confusion, humbly apologized for his error.-Vancouver, B.C. World