Little Johnny’s dad was a farmer in a poor district of the country.
One day his Uncle Abner came to visit. Since there were limited accommodations, he was required to sleep with his young nephew, Little Johnny.

When Uncle Abner came into the bedroom, he saw Little Johnny kneeling at the side of the bed with his head bowed. Thinking this was the child’s religious upbringing, he decided to present a good example and kneeled at the other side of the bed with his head bowed.

Little Johnny looked up and said, “Whatcha doin’?”

“Why… The same thing you’re doing,” replied Uncle Abner.

“Ma’s gonna be mad,” said Little Johnny.

“Why will she be mad?” asked Uncle Abner.

“Because the bed pan’s on this side!” responded Little Johnny.

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A southern farmer got in his pickup and drove several miles to a neighboring farm and knocked on the farmhouse door.
A young boy, about 12, opened the door. “Is yer pa home?” he asked.

“No sir, he sure ain’t,” the boy replied. “He went to town.”

“Well,” said the farmer. “Is yer ma home?”

“No, she ain’t here either. She went to town with pa.” “Well, then, how about yer brother, Joe, is he here?” “No sir, he went with pa and ma.”

The farmer stood there for a few minutes, shifting from one foot to the other, and mumbling to himself.

“Is there anything I kin do fer ya’?” inquired the young boy politely. “I know where all the tools are, if you want to borry one; Or maybe I could take a message fer pa.”

“Well,” said the farmer uncomfortably, “I really wanted to talk to yer pa. It’s about your brother Joe getting my daughter, Pearly Mae, pregnant.”

The boy considered for a moment. “You would have to talk to pa about that,” he finally conceded. “I know that pa charges $500 for the bull and $250 for the boar hog, but I really don’t know how much he gets for Joe.”

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There was once a very successful farmer from Texas who started gaining interest in his ancestry.
After doing some digging, he traced his lineage back to a small town in Ireland. And lo and behold, they were a family of farmers. So he packed his bags and took a trip to Ireland to visit the small town to see if he could track down some of his kin.

After landing in Dublin, and driving an hour outside of the city, he stopped in a pub to grab a drink and start asking around about his family. The Texan sat down, ordered a pint, and started talking to the Irishman sitting at the bar.

After explaining his story and the purpose of the trip, the Irishman responded, “You don’t say! I’ve never heard of your family, but I’m a farmer as well. Tell me, what’s it like farming in Texas?”

“Gladly,” the Texan said, “farming in Texas has been quite lucrative for me. If you started out in the morning, and drove west, you could drive all day before you reached the end of my property. And if you started the next day and drove East all day, you wouldn’t reach the end of my property. Same thing North and South, you could drive either direction all day and you wouldn’t reach the end of my farmland.”

“Ahh, I know what you mean,” said the Irishman, “I’ve got a tractor like that as well.”