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diff --git a/12836-h/12836-h.htm b/12836-h/12836-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..cb7f237 --- /dev/null +++ b/12836-h/12836-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,6224 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> +<title>Good Stories from the Ladies’ Home Journal, by Various</title> +<link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> +<style type="text/css"> + +body { margin-left: 20%; + margin-right: 20%; + text-align: justify; } + +h1, h2, h3, h4, h5 {text-align: center; font-style: normal; font-weight: +normal; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: .5em; margin-bottom: .5em;} + +h1 {font-size: 300%; + margin-top: 0.6em; + margin-bottom: 0.6em; + letter-spacing: 0.12em; + word-spacing: 0.2em; + text-indent: 0em;} +h2 {font-size: 150%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} +h3 {font-size: 150%; margin-top: 2em;} +h4 {font-size: 120%;} +h5 {font-size: 110%;} + +hr {width: 80%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always; margin-top: 4em;} + +p {text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: 0.25em; + margin-bottom: 0.25em; } + +p.poem {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-size: 90%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.letter {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.center {text-align: center; + text-indent: 0em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.right {text-align: right; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +div.fig { display:block; + margin:0 auto; + text-align:center; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em;} + +a:link {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:visited {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:hover {color:red} + +</style> + +</head> + +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12836 ***</div> + +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="cover " /> +</div> + +<h1>Good Stories</h1> + +<h5>REPRINTED FROM</h5> + +<h3>THE LADIES’ HOME JOURNAL</h3> + +<h5>OF PHILADELPHIA</h5> + +<h5>1907</h5> + +<hr /> + +<h2>Warding Off a Catastrophe</h2> + +<p> +A fat woman entered a crowded street car and, seizing a strap, stood directly +in front of a man seated in the corner. As the car started she lunged against +his newspaper and at the same time trod heavily on his toes. +</p> + +<p> +As soon as he could extricate himself he rose and offered her his seat. +</p> + +<p> +“You are very kind, sir,” she said, panting for breath. +</p> + +<p> +“Not at all, madam,” he replied; “it’s not kindness; +it’s simply self-defense.” +</p> + +<h2>Not What She Expected</h2> + +<p> +A charming, well-preserved widow had been courted and won by a physician. She +had children. The wedding-day was approaching, and it was time the children +should know they were to have a new father. Calling one of them to her she +said: “Georgie, I am going to do something before long that I would like +to talk about with you.” +</p> + +<p> +“What is it, Ma?” aiked the boy. +</p> + +<p> +“I am intending to marry Doctor Jones in a few days, and—” +</p> + +<p> +“Bully for you. Ma, Does Doctor Jones know it?” +</p> + +<h2>Of Course</h2> + +<p> +The morning class had been duly instructed and enlightened upon the subject of +our national independence. Feeling sure she had made a real and lasting +impression with her explanations and blackboard illustrations the young teacher +began with the usual round of questions: +</p> + +<p> +“Now, Sammy Smith, where was the Declaration of Independence +signed?” +</p> + +<p> +Sammy, with a shout of glee: “At de bottom, +ma’am—that’s what you said!” +</p> + +<h2>He Had Certainly Met Him</h2> + +<p> +A traveler going to New Zealand was asked by a friend if he would inquire, +while there, as to the whereabouts of the friend’s grandfather, Jeremiah +Thompson. +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly,” said the traveler, and wherever he went he asked for +news of the ancestor, but without avail. +</p> + +<p> +One day he was introduced to a fine old Maori of advanced age. “Did you +ever meet with an Englishman named Jeremiah Thompson?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +A smile passed over the Maori’s face. “Meet him?” he +repeated. “Why, I ate him!” +</p> + +<h2>No Place Like Home</h2> + +<p> +A Bostonian died, and when he arrived at St. Peter’s gate he was asked +the usual questions: +</p> + +<p> +“What is your name, and where are you from?” +</p> + +<p> +The answer was, “Mr. So-and-So, from Boston.” +</p> + +<p> +“You may come in,” said St. Peter, “but I know you +won’t like it.” +</p> + +<h2>She Felt Bad When Well</h2> + +<p> +An old lady, really quite well, was always complaining and “enjoying poor +health,” as she expressed it. Her various ailments were to her the most +interesting topic in the world. One day a neighbor found her eating a hearty +meal, and asked her how she was. +</p> + +<p> +“Poor me,” she sighed, “I feel very well, but I always feel +bad when I feel well, because I know I am going to feel worse afterward.” +</p> + +<h2>Drove Him Mad</h2> + +<p> +They took him to the sanatorium moaning feebly: “Thirty-nine, +thirty-nine.” +</p> + +<p> +“What does he mean by that?” the attendant inquired. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s the number of buttons on the back of his wife’s new +frock,” the family doctor explained. +</p> + +<h2>Tweedledum or Tweedledee</h2> + +<p> +Joseph Chamberlain was the guest of honor at a dinner in an important city. The +Mayor presided, and when coffee was being served the Mayor leaned over and +touched Mr. Chamberlain, saying, “Shall we let the people enjoy +themselves a little longer, or had we better have your speech now?” +</p> + +<h2>It Was Mary’s Own Idea</h2> + +<p> +“Did you mail my letter, Mary?” asked her mistress. “It was +an important one, you know.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yis, mum, indeed I did.” +</p> + +<p> +“But why have you brought back the two cents I gave you for the +stamp?” +</p> + +<p> +“Sure, I didn’t have to use it, mum,” replied Mary. “I +slipped th’ letther into th’ box whin nobody was +lukin’.” +</p> + +<h2>He Couldn’t Very Well</h2> + +<p> +A husband was being arraigned in court in a suit brought by his wife for +cruelty. +</p> + +<p> +“I understand, sir,” said the Judge, addressing the husband, +“that one of the indignities you have showered upon your wife is that you +have not spoken to her for three years. Is that so?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is, your Honor,” quickly answered the husband. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, sir,” thundered the judge, “why didn’t you speak +to her, may I ask?” +</p> + +<p> +“Simply,” replied the husband, “because I didn’t want +to interrupt her.” +</p> + +<h2>A Coat That Wouldn’t Come Off</h2> + +<p> +The inspector asked the boys of the school he was examining: “Can you +take your warm overcoats off?” “Yes, sir,” was the response. +“Can the bear take his warm overcoat off?” “No, sir.” +“Why not?” There was silence for a while, and then a little boy +spoke up: “Please, sir, because God alone knows where the buttons +are.” +</p> + +<h2>The Young Housewife’s Latest</h2> + +<p> +In the cook’s absence the young mistress of the house undertook, with the +help of a green waitress, to get the Sunday luncheon. The flurried maid, who +had been struggling in the kitchen with a coffee machine that refused to work, +confessed that she had forgotten to wash the lettuce. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, never mind, Eliza. Go on with the coffee, and I’ll do +it,” said the considerate mistress. “Where do you keep the +soap?” +</p> + +<h2>He Did His Best</h2> + +<p> +A hungry Irishman went into a restaurant on Friday and said to the waiter: +</p> + +<p> +“Have yez any whale?” +</p> + +<p> +“No.” +</p> + +<p> +“Have yez any shark?” +</p> + +<p> +“No.” +</p> + +<p> +“Have yez any swordfish?” +</p> + +<p> +“No.” +</p> + +<p> +“Have yez any jellyfish?” +</p> + +<p> +“No.” +</p> + +<p> +“All right,” said the Irishman. “Then bring me ham and eggs +and a beefsteak smothered wid onions. The Lord knows I asked for fish.” +</p> + +<h2>The Power Behind</h2> + +<p> +At a prayer-meeting a good old brother stood up and said he was glad to give +the following testimony: +</p> + +<p> +“My wife and I,” he said, “started in life with hardly a cent +in the world. We began at the lowest round of the ladder, but the Lord has been +good to us and we have worked up—we have prospered. We bought a little +farm and raised good crops. We have a good home and a nice family of children, +and,” he added with much emphasis, “I am the head of that +family.” +</p> + +<p> +After he sat down his wife promptly arose to corroborate all that he had said. +She said that they had started in life with hardly a cent, the Lord had been +good to them and they had prospered; they did have a farm and good crops, and +it was true they did have a fine family of children. But she added with +satisfaction, “I am the neck that moves the head.” +</p> + +<h2>Easy Enough</h2> + +<p> +Some visitors who were being shown over a pauper lunatic asylum, says +“Harper’s Weekly,” inquired of their guide what method was +employed to discover when the inmates were sufficiently recovered to leave. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” replied he, “you see, it’s this way. We have a +big trough of water, and we turns on the tap. We leave it running, and tells +’em to bail out the water with pails until they’ve emptied the +trough.” +</p> + +<p> +“How does that prove it?” asked one of the visitors. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said the guide, “them as ain’t idiots turns off +the tap.” +</p> + +<h2>He Had Left the Cards All Right</h2> + +<p> +The high-born dame was breaking in a new footman—stupid but honest. +</p> + +<p> +In her brougham, about to make a round of visits, she found she had forgotten +her bits of pasteboard. So she sent the man back with orders to bring some of +her cards that were on the mantelpiece in her boudoir, and put them in his +pocket. +</p> + +<p> +At different houses, she told the footman to hand in one, and sometimes a +couple, until at last she told Jeames to leave three at one house. +</p> + +<p> +“Can’t do it, mum.” +</p> + +<p> +“How’s that?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve only got two left—the ace of spades and the seven of +clubs.” +</p> + +<h2>And That Settled It</h2> + +<p> +“If ye please, mum,” said the ancient hero, in an appealing voice, +as he stood at the back door of the cottage on washday, “I’ve lost +my leg——” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I ain’t got it,” snapped the woman fiercely, +</p> + +<p> +And the door closed with a bang. +</p> + +<h2>What Do You Think the Porter Did?</h2> + +<p> +A lady in the centre seat of the parlor car heard the request of a +fellow-passenger directly opposite asking the porter to open the window, and, +scenting a draft, she immediately drew a cloak about her. +</p> + +<p> +“Porter, if that window is opened,” she snapped testily, “I +shall freeze to death.” +</p> + +<p> +“And if the window is kept closed,” returned the other passenger, +“I shall surely suffocate.” +</p> + +<p> +The poor porter stood absolutely puzzled between the two fires. +</p> + +<p> +“Say, boss,” he finally said to a commercial traveler seated near +by, “what would you do?” +</p> + +<p> +“Do?” echoed the traveler. “Why, man, that is a very simple +matter; open the window and freeze one lady. Then close it and suffocate the +other.” +</p> + +<h2>She Said It</h2> + +<p> +A visitor of noble birth was expected to arrive at a large country house in the +North of England, and the daughter of the house, aged seven, was receiving +final instructions from her mother. +</p> + +<p> +“And now, dear,” she said, “when the Duke speaks to you do +not forget always to say ‘your Grace.’” +</p> + +<p> +Presently the great man arrived, and after greeting his host and hostess he +said to the child, “Well, my dear, and what is your name?” Judge of +his surprise when the little girl solemnly closed her eyes and with clasped +hands exclaimed, “For what we are about to receive may we be truly +fankful, amen.” +</p> + +<h2>His Idea of Genius</h2> + +<p> +A young man once said to Thomas A. Edison, the inventor; “Mr. Edison, +don’t you believe that genius is inspiration?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” replied Edison; “genius is <i>per</i>spiration.” +</p> + +<h2>Took the Wrong House</h2> + +<p> +On one of the Southern railroads there is a station-building that is commonly +known by travelers as the smallest railroad station in America. It is of this +station that the story is told that an old farmer was expecting a chicken-house +to arrive there, and he sent one of his hands, a newcomer, to fetch it. +Arriving there the man saw the house, loaded it on to his wagon and started for +home. On the way he met a man in uniform with the words “Station +Agent” on his cap. +</p> + +<p> +“Say, hold on. What have you got on that wagon?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“My chicken-house, of course,” was the reply. +</p> + +<p> +“Chicken-house be jiggered!” exploded the official. +“That’s the station!” +</p> + +<h2>And Tommy Did</h2> + +<p> +“And now,” said the teacher, “I want Tommy to tell the school +who was most concerned when Absalom got hung by the hair?” +</p> + +<p> +TOMMY: “Abs’lom.” +</p> + +<h2>The Prayer of Cyrus Brown</h2> + +<p class="poem"> + “The proper way for a man to pray,”<br/> + Said Deacon Lemuel Keyes,<br/> + “And the only proper attitude,<br/> + Is down upon his knees.”<br/> +<br/> + “No, I should say the way to pray,”<br/> + Said Reverend Doctor Wise,<br/> + “Is standing straight, with outstretched arms,<br/> + And rapt and upturned eyes.”<br/> +<br/> + “Oh, no; no, no,” said Elder Slow,<br/> + “Such posture is too proud:<br/> + A man should pray with eyes fast closed<br/> + And head contritely bowed.”<br/> +<br/> + “It seems to me his hands should be<br/> + Austerely clasped in front,<br/> + With both thumbs pointing toward the ground,”<br/> + Said Reverend Doctor Blunt.<br/> +<br/> + “Las’ year I fell in Hodgkin’s well<br/> + Head first,” said Cyrus Brown,<br/> + “With both my heels a-stickin’ up,<br/> + My head a-p’inting down,<br/> +<br/> + “An’ I made a prayer right then an’ there—<br/> + Best prayer I ever said,<br/> + The prayingest prayer I ever prayed,<br/> + A-standing on my head.” +</p> + +<p class="right"> +—SAM WALTER FOSS. +</p> + +<h2>Couldn’t Tell Which</h2> + +<p> +Jones had come home later than usual and had ready a good explanation, but his +wife gave him no chance, and immediately began to tell him what she thought of +him. He endured it patiently all evening, quietly read his paper and went to +bed. His wife was still talking. +</p> + +<p> +When he was almost asleep he could hear her still scolding him unmercifully. He +dropped off to sleep and awoke after a couple of hours, only to hear his wife +remark: +</p> + +<p> +“I hope all the women don’t have to put up with such conduct as +this.” +</p> + +<p> +“Annie,” said Jones, “are you talking again or yet?” +</p> + +<h2>The Greater Calamity</h2> + +<p> +Two or three urchins were running down a long and very steep flight of steps, +when the foremost stumbled and fell headlong twenty to thirty feet, and was +only stopped near the bottom by doubling backward around the newel-post. It +looked as though his back was broken, and that he was a dead small boy, but he +gathered himself up, thrust his hands anxiously in his trousers’ pockets, +and ejaculated; +</p> + +<p> +“B’ gosh, I b’l’eve I lost a cent.” +</p> + +<h2>Her First Railroad Ride</h2> + +<p> +An old lady in Missouri took her first railroad trip last week, says “The +Butter Democrat.” She noticed the bell-cord overhead, and, turning to a +boy, she said: “Sonny, what’s that for?” “That, +marm,” he said, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, “is to ring +the bell when you want something to eat.” +</p> + +<p> +Shortly afterward the old lady reached her umbrella up to the cord and gave it +a vigorous pull. The train was in the middle of a trestle. The whistle sounded, +the brakes were pulled on, the train began to slacken its speed, windows were +thrown up, questions asked, and confusion reigned among the passengers. The old +lady sat calmly through it all. +</p> + +<p> +Presently the conductor came running through the train and asked: “Who +pulled the bell?” +</p> + +<p> +“I did,” replied the old lady meekly. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, what do you want?” asked the conductor impatiently. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said the old lady meditatively, “you may bring me a +ham sandwich and a cup of tea, please.” +</p> + +<h2>The Parson and the “Light”</h2> + +<p> +A parson had had a call from a little country parish to a large and wealthy one +in a big city. He asked time for prayer and consideration. He did not feel sure +of his light. A month passed. Some one met his youngest son. “How is it, +Josiah; is your father going to B———?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” answered the youngster judicially, “paw is still +prayin’ for light, but most of the things is packed.” +</p> + +<h2>Turn About is Fair Play</h2> + +<p> +Last Christmas a middle-aged tinplate-worker married a widow whose acquaintance +he had made but a few weeks before while working some little distance away from +home. +</p> + +<p> +“Sarrah,” he said nervously, after the guests had departed, +“I ’ave a weddin’ present for ye.” +</p> + +<p> +“What is it, John?” said Sarrah with a smirk. +</p> + +<p> +“I ’ope ye won’t be ’fended, Sarrah,” said John, +more agitated than ever, “but it is—er—er—it is five of +’em.” +</p> + +<p> +“Five of wat?” asked Sarrah. +</p> + +<p> +“Five children!” blurted out John desperately, anticipating a +scene. “I didn’t tell ye I ’ad children—five of +’em.” +</p> + +<p> +Sarrah took the news quite calmly; in fact, she appeared relieved. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, well, John,” she said, “that do make it easier for me to +tell ye. Five is not so bad as me, watever. Seven I ’ave got!” +</p> + +<p> +“Wat!” howled John. +</p> + +<p> +“Seven,” repeated Sarrah composedly. “That is my +weddin’ present to ye, John.” +</p> + +<h2>His Only Chance</h2> + +<p> +“Is there a man in all this audience,” demanded the female lecturer +on woman’s rights, “that has ever done anything to lighten the +burden on his wife’s shoulders? What do you know of woman’s work? +Is there a man here,” she continued, folding her arms, and looking over +the assembly with superb scorn, “that has ever got up in the morning, +leaving his tired, worn-out wife to enjoy her slumbers, gone quietly +downstairs, made the fire, cooked his own breakfast, sewed the missing buttons +on the children’s clothes, darned the family stockings, scoured the pots +and kettles, cleaned and filled the lamps, and done all this, if necessary, day +after day, uncomplainingly? If there be such a man in this audience let him +rise up! I should really like to see him!” +</p> + +<p> +And, in the rear of the hall, a mild-looking man in spectacles, in obedience to +the summons, timidly arose. He was the husband of the eloquent speaker. It was +the first time he had ever had a chance to assert himself. +</p> + +<h2>He Saw Them, All Right</h2> + +<p> +Two officers were sent to arrest a Quaker; his wife met them at the door and +said, “Walk in, gentlemen; my husband will see thee.” +</p> + +<p> +After waiting some time they got impatient and called the woman, saying, +“You said we should see your husband presently.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, friend,” she replied; “I said he would see thee—he +did see thee, did not like thy looks, and went out by the back door.” +</p> + +<h2>An Easy Way to Stop It</h2> + +<p> +William Penn was once urging a man he knew to stop drinking to excess, when the +man suddenly asked: +</p> + +<p> +“Can you tell me of an easy way to do it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” Penn replied readily, “it is just as easy as to open +thy hand, friend.” +</p> + +<p> +“Convince me of that,” the man exclaimed, “and I will promise +upon my honor to do as you tell me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, my friend,” Penn answered, “whenever thee finds a +glass of liquor in thy hand, open that hand before the glass touches thy lips, +and thee will never drink to excess again.” +</p> + +<p> +The man was so struck by the simplicity of the great Quaker’s advice that +he followed it and reformed. +</p> + +<h2>What Brought Them?</h2> + +<p> +A rural school has a pretty girl as its teacher, but she was much troubled +because many of her pupils were late every morning. At last she made the +announcement that she would kiss the first pupil to arrive at the schoolhouse +the next morning. At sunrise the largest three boys of her class were sitting +on the doorstep of the schoolhouse, and by six o’clock every boy in the +school and four of the directors were waiting for her to arrive. +</p> + +<h2>Give and Take</h2> + +<p> +An English statesman on one occasion, when engaged in canvassing, visited a +working-man’s house, in the principal room of which a pictorial +representation of the Pope faced an illustration of King William, of pious and +immortal memory, in the act of crossing the Boyne. +</p> + +<p> +The worthy man stared in amazement, and seeing his surprise the voter’s +wife exclaimed; +</p> + +<p> +“Shure, my husband’s an Orangeman and I’m a Catholic.” +</p> + +<p> +“How do you get on together?” asked the astonished politician. +</p> + +<p> +“Very well, indade, barring the twelfth of July, when my husband goes out +with the Orange procession and comes home feelin’ extry +pathriotic.” +</p> + +<p> +“What then?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, he always takes the Pope down and jumps on him and then goes +straight to bed. The next morning I get up early, before he is awake, and take +down King William and pawn him and buy a new Pope with the money. Then I give +the old man the ticket to get King William out.” +</p> + +<h2>Too Much of a Good Thing</h2> + +<p> +“I’ve got the very thing you want,” said the stableman to a +ruralist in search of a horse; “a thorough-going road horse. Five years +old, sound as a quail, $175 cash down, and he goes ten miles without +stopping.” +</p> + +<p> +The purchaser threw his hands skyward. +</p> + +<p> +“Not for me,” he said, “not for me. I wouldn’t gif you +five cents for him. I live eight miles out in de country, und I’d haf to +walk back two miles.” +</p> + +<h2>Had Missed It</h2> + +<p> +“What are you crying for, my poor little boy?” said a man to a +crying boy. +</p> + +<p> +“Pa fell downstairs.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t take on so, my boy. He’ll get better soon.” +</p> + +<p> +“That isn’t it. Sister saw him fall—all the way. I never saw +nuffen.” +</p> + +<h2>Denied the Only Shade</h2> + +<p> +It was a broiling hot day in the park, and those walking therein were well-nigh +exhausted, when a very stout old lady came bustling along one of the paths, +closely followed by a rough-looking tramp. +</p> + +<p> +Twice she commanded him to leave her, but still he followed just behind. +</p> + +<p> +At last the old lady, quite disgusted, turned angrily around and said: +</p> + +<p> +“Look here, my man, if you don’t go away I shall call a +policeman.” +</p> + +<p> +The poor fellow looked up at her with a tear in his eye, and then remarked: +</p> + +<p> +“For goodness’ sake, mum, have mercy and don’t call a +policeman, for ye’re the on’y shady spot in the park.” +</p> + +<h2>Wanted to Make Her Happy</h2> + +<p> +In one of the many hospitals in the South a bright, busy-looking and +duty-loving woman hustled up to one of the wounded soldiers who lay gazing at +the ceiling above his cot. “Can’t I do something for you, my poor +fellow?” said the woman imploringly. The “poor fellow” looked +up languidly. The only things he really wanted just at that time were his +discharge and a box of cigars. When he saw the strained and anxious look on the +good woman’s face, however, he felt sorry for her, and with perfect sang +froid he replied: “Why, yes; you can wash my face if you want to.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’d be only too glad to,” gasped the visitor eagerly. +</p> + +<p> +“All right,” said the cavalier gallantly, “go ahead. +It’s been washed twenty-one times already to-day, but I don’t mind +going through it again if it’ll make you any happier.” +</p> + +<h2>Easy Enough</h2> + +<p> +A noted mathematician, considered by many a wonder, stopped at a hotel in a +small town in Missouri. As usual, in such places, there were a number of +drummers on hand; there was also a meeting of some medical men at the place, +who used the hotel as headquarters. One of the doctors thought it would be +quite a joke to tell the mathematician that some of the M.D.’s had +concluded to kidnap him and take out his brains to learn how it was he was so +good in mathematics. He was then asked by them what he was going to do about +it. He replied: “Why, I shall simply go on without brains just as you +doctors are doing.” +</p> + +<h2>Not a Complaint at All</h2> + +<p> +The good priest had come to his parishioner after the funeral of the +latter’s mother-in-law to express condolences. +</p> + +<p> +“And what complaint was it, Pat,” he asked sympathetically, +“that carried the old lady off?” +</p> + +<p> +“Kumplaint, did yi ask, father?” answered Pat. “Thir wuz no +kumplaint from anybody. Everybody wuz satisfied.” +</p> + +<h2>He Caught It, But——</h2> + +<p> +The ferry-dock was crowded with weary homegoers when through the crowd rushed a +man—hot, excited, laden to the chin with bundles of every shape and size. +He sprinted down the pier, his eyes fixed on a ferryboat only two or three feet +out from the pier. He paused but an instant on the string-piece, and then, +cheered on by the amused crowd, he made a flying leap across the intervening +stretch of water and landed safely on the deck. A fat man happened to be +standing on the exact spot on which he struck, and they both went down with a +resounding crash. When the arriving man had somewhat recovered his breath he +apologized to the fat man. “I hope I didn’t hurt you,” he +said. “I am sorry. But, anyway, I caught the boat!” +</p> + +<p> +“But, you idiot,” said the fat man, “the boat was coming +in!” +</p> + +<h2>He Didn’t Mind</h2> + +<p> +A certain railway in Michigan has a station entitled Sawyer’s Mills, but +usually entitled, for short, Sawyer’s. +</p> + +<p> +A rural couple on one of the trains attracted much attention by their evident +fondness for each other until the brakeman thrust his head in the doorway of +the car and called out, “Sawyer! Sawyer!” +</p> + +<p> +“Reuben” suddenly assumed the perpendicular and indignantly +exclaimed, “Well, I don’t care if you did; we’ve been engaged +three weeks.” +</p> + +<h2>He Announced His Intentions</h2> + +<p> +Young man and his lady-love attended a protracted meeting which was being held +in the village church. Arriving late they found the church filled, but a +gentleman arose and gave the lady his seat, while the young man was ushered far +away to a seat in another part of the building. +</p> + +<p> +The service grew warm and impressive. +</p> + +<p> +“Will those who want our prayers please stand up?” said the +preacher. +</p> + +<p> +At this juncture the young man thought it was getting late and he would get his +sweetheart and go home, but not just knowing where she sat he rose to his feet +and looked over the audience. +</p> + +<p> +The minister, mistaking his intentions, asked: “Young man, are you +seeking salvation?” +</p> + +<p> +To which the young man responded: “At present I am seeking Sal +Jackson!” +</p> + +<h2>As a Last Resort</h2> + +<p> +“Well, doctor,” said the patient who was an incessant talker, +“why in the world don’t you look at my tongue, if you want to, +instead of writing away like a newspaper editor? How long do you expect I am +going to sit here with my mouth wide open?” +</p> + +<p> +“Just one moment more, please, madam,” replied the doctor; “I +only wanted you to keep still long enough so that I could write this +prescription.” +</p> + +<h2>He Got the Information</h2> + +<p> +At a country fair a machine which bore a sign reading, “How to Make Your +Trousers Last,” occupied a prominent position in the grounds and +attracted much attention, says “Harper’s Weekly.” A +countryman who stood gaping before it was told by the exhibitor, a person with +a long black mustache, a minstrel-stripe shirt, and a ninety-four-carat diamond +in a red cravat, that for one cent deposited in the slot the machine would +dispense its valuable sartorial advice. The countryman dug the required coin +from the depths of a deep pocket and dropped it in the slot. Instantly the +machine delivered a card on which was neatly printed: +</p> + +<p> +“Make your coat and waistcoat first.” +</p> + +<h2>After Many Trials</h2> + +<p> +He was a sad-faced American tourist, and as he seated himself in a London +restaurant he was immediately attended by an obsequious waiter. +</p> + +<p> +“I want two eggs,” said the American—“one fried on one +side and one on the other.” +</p> + +<p> +“’Ow is that, sir?” asked the astounded waiter. +</p> + +<p> +“Two eggs—one fried on one side and one on the other.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very well, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +The waiter was gone several minutes, and when he returned his face was a study. +</p> + +<p> +“Would you please repeat your horder, sir?” +</p> + +<p> +“I said, very distinctly, two eggs—one fried on one side and one on +the other.” +</p> + +<p> +Oppressive silence, and then a dazed “Very well, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +This time he was gone longer, and when he returned he said anxiously: +</p> + +<p> +“Would it be awsking too much, sir, to ’ave you repeat your horder, +sir? I cawn’t think I ’ave it right, sir, y’know.” +</p> + +<p> +“Two eggs,” said the American sadly and patiently—“one +fried on one side and one on the other.” +</p> + +<p> +More oppressive silence and another and fainter “Very well, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +This time he was gone still longer. When he returned his collar was unbuttoned, +his hair disheveled and his face scratched and bleeding. Leaning over the +waiting patron he whispered beseechingly: +</p> + +<p> +“Would you mind tyking boiled heggs, sir? I’ve ’ad some words +with the cook.” +</p> + +<h2>It Was His Only Tie</h2> + +<p> +One morning, as Mark Twain returned from a neighborhood morning call, sans +necktie, his wife met him at the door with the exclamation; “There, Sam, +you have been over to the Stowes’s again without a necktie! It’s +really disgraceful the way you neglect your dress!” +</p> + +<p> +Her husband said nothing, but went up to his room. +</p> + +<p> +A few minutes later his neighbor—Mrs. S.—was summoned to the door +by a messenger, who presented her with a small box neatly done up. She opened +it and found a black silk necktie, accompanied by the following note: +</p> + +<p> +“Here is a necktie. Take it out and look at it. I think I stayed half an +hour this morning. At the end of that time will you kindly return it, as it is +the only one I have?—M<small>ARK</small> T<small>WAIN</small>.” +</p> + +<h2>Playing Doctor</h2> + +<p> +BILLY: “Gentlemen, before we begin to operate, if you will hold the +patient’s hands and feet I’ll get that four cents out of his +right-hand pocket.” +</p> + +<h2>The Feminine Point of View</h2> + +<p> +The Willoughbys had said good-by to Mrs. Kent. Then Mr. Willoughby spoke +thoughtfully: +</p> + +<p> +“It was pleasant of her to say that about wishing she could see more of +people like us, who are interested in real things, instead of the foolish round +of gayety that takes up so much of her time and gives her so little +satisfaction, wasn’t it?” +</p> + +<p> +His wife stole a sidewise glance at his gratified face, and a satirical smile +crossed her own countenance. +</p> + +<p> +“Very pleasant, George,” she said clearly. “But what I knew +she meant, and what she knew that I knew she meant, was that my walking-skirt +is an inch too long and my sleeves are old style, and your coat, poor dear, is +beginning to look shiny in the back.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why—what—how——” began Mr. Willoughby +helplessly; then he shook his head and gave it up. +</p> + +<h2>He Had Faith in the Doctor</h2> + +<p> +A young English laborer went to the register’s office to record his +father’s death. The register asked the date of death. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, father ain’t dead yet,” was the reply; “but he +<i>will</i> be dead before morning, and I thought it would save me another trip +if you would put it down now.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, that won’t do at all,” said the register. “Why, +your father may be well before morning.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, no, he won’t,” said the young laborer. “Our doctor +says he won’t, and he knows what he’s given father.” +</p> + +<h2>What He Used the Milk For</h2> + +<p> +A clergyman had been for some time displeased with the quality of milk served +him. At length he determined to remonstrate with his milkman for supplying such +weak stuff. He began mildly: +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve been wanting to see you in regard to the quality of milk with +which you are serving me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir,” uneasily answered the tradesman. +</p> + +<p> +“I only wanted to say,” continued the minister, “that I use +the milk for drinking purposes exclusively, and not for christening.” +</p> + +<h2>Nothing if Not Polite</h2> + +<p> +An interested visitor who was making the final call in the tenement district, +rising, said: +</p> + +<p> +“Well, my good woman, I must go now. Is there anything I can do for +you?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, thank ye, mem,” replied the submerged one. “Ye +mustn’t mind it if I don’t return the call, will ye? I +haven’t any time to go slumin’ meself.” +</p> + +<h2>Her Little Game</h2> + +<p> +As a married couple were walking down one of the main thoroughfares of a city +the husband noted the attention which other women obtained from passers-by, and +remarked to his better half: +</p> + +<p> +“Folks never look at you. I wish I had married some one better +looking.” +</p> + +<p> +The woman tartly replied: “It’s your fault. Do you think a man will +stare at me when you’re walking with me? You step behind and see whether +men don’t look at me.” +</p> + +<p> +The husband hung back about a dozen yards, and for the length of the street was +surprised to see every man his wife passed stare hard at her and even turn +around and look after her. +</p> + +<p> +“Sure, lassie!” he exclaimed as he rejoined her, “I was wrong +and take it back. I’ll never say aught about your looks again.” +</p> + +<p> +The wife had made a face at every man she met. +</p> + +<h2>A Case of Adaptation</h2> + +<p> +Two dusky small boys were quarreling; one was pouring forth a volume of +vituperous epithets, while the other leaned against a fence and calmly +contemplated him. When the flow of language was exhausted he said; +</p> + +<p> +“Are you troo?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“You ain’t got nuffin’ more to say?” +</p> + +<p> +“No.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, all dem tings what you called me you is.” +</p> + +<h2>What Would Happen</h2> + +<p> +A woman agitator, holding forth on the platform and presenting the greatness +of her sex, cried out: “Take away woman and what would follow?” +</p> + +<p> +And from the audience came a clear, male voice: “We would.” +</p> + +<h2>Couldn’t Fool Him That Far</h2> + +<p> +Years ago, when telephones were still a novelty, a farmer came to town one day +and called on a lawyer friend of his whom he supplied with butter, and who had +had a telephone recently put in his office. +</p> + +<p> +“Need any butter this morning?” asked the farmer. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I don’t know,” answered the lawyer. “Wait a +minute. I’ll ask my wife about it.” +</p> + +<p> +After speaking through the ’phone he went on; “No; my wife says +no.” +</p> + +<p> +The farmer’s face was a study for a moment. Then he broke out with: +“Look-a-here, Mr. Lawyer, I may be a ‘Rube’ and have my +whiskers full of hay and hayseed, but I’m not such a big fool as to +believe that your wife is in that box!” +</p> + +<h2>And They Wondered!</h2> + +<p> +At a banquet held in a room, the walls of which were adorned with many +beautiful paintings, a well-known college president was called upon to respond +to a toast. In the course of his remarks, wishing to pay a compliment to the +ladies present, and designating the paintings with one of his characteristic +gestures, he said: “What need is there of these painted beauties when we +have so many with us at this table?” +</p> + +<h2>She Had Him That Time</h2> + +<p> +It was the same old story of a man who refused to tell his wife the outcome of +a business transaction in which, naturally, she took a deep interest. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” he sneered, “I won’t tell you. If I did +you’d repeat it. You women can never keep a secret.” +</p> + +<p> +“John,” said the woman quietly, “have I ever told the secret +about the solitaire engagement ring you gave me eighteen years ago being +paste?” +</p> + +<h2>Necessity: Not Choice</h2> + +<p> +A woman hurried up to a policeman at the corner of Twenty-third Street in New +York City. +</p> + +<p> +“Does this crosstown car take you down to the Bridge toward +Brooklyn?” she demanded. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, madam,” returned the policeman, “do you want to go to +Brooklyn?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I don’t want to” the woman replied, “but I have +to.” +</p> + +<h2>Mr. Beecher’s Prescription</h2> + +<p> +A country clergyman once called on Mr. Beecher and asked his advice about what +to do with persons who go to sleep in church. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said Mr. Beecher, “I’ll tell you what I do. +When I first came to Plymouth Church I gave the sexton strict orders that if he +saw any person asleep in my congregation he should go straight to the pulpit +and wake up the minister.” +</p> + +<h2>A Recipe for a Bridal Couple</h2> + +<p> +It was on a train going through Indiana. Among the passengers was a +newly-married couple, who made themselves known to such an extent that the +occupants of the car commenced passing sarcastic remarks about them. The bride +and groom stood the remarks for some time, but finally the latter, who was a +man of tremendous size, broke out in the following language at his tormentors: +“Yes, we’re married—just married. We are going one hundred +and sixty miles farther, and I am going to ‘spoon’ all the way. If +you don’t like it you can get out and walk. She’s my violet and +I’m her sheltering oak.” +</p> + +<p> +During the remainder of the journey they were left in peace. +</p> + +<h2>Both of the Same Kind</h2> + +<p> +A lady stepped from the Limited Express at a side station, on a special stop +order. To the only man in sight she asked: +</p> + +<p> +“When is the train for Madison due here, please?” +</p> + +<p> +“The train went an hour ago, ma’am: the next one is to-morrow at +eight o’clock.” +</p> + +<p> +The lady in perplexity then asked: +</p> + +<p> +“Where is the nearest hotel?” +</p> + +<p> +“There is no hotel here at all,” replied the man. +</p> + +<p> +“But what shall I do?” asked the lady. “Where shall I spend +the night?” +</p> + +<p> +“I guess you’ll have to stay all night with the station +agent,” was the reply. +</p> + +<p> +“Sir!” flashed up the lady, “I’d have you know +I’m a lady.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said the man as he strode off, “so is the station +agent.” +</p> + +<h2>“Follow the Leader”</h2> + +<p> +A young curate was asked to take a Sunday-school class of girls of eighteen or +nineteen years each, which had formerly been taught by a lady. The young +clergyman consented, but insisted upon being properly introduced to the class. +The superintendent accordingly took him to the class for this purpose and said: +</p> + +<p> +“Young ladies, I introduce to you Mr. Chase, who will in future be your +teacher. I would like you to tell him what your former teacher did each Sunday +so that he can go on in the same way. What did she always do first?” +</p> + +<p> +And then a miss of sixteen said: “Kiss us.” +</p> + +<h2>Very Easily Explained</h2> + +<p> +A neighbor whose place adjoined Bronson Alcott’s had a vegetable garden +in which he took a great interest. Mr. Alcott had one also, and both men were +especially interested in their potato patches. One morning, meeting by the +fence, the neighbor said, “How is it, Mr. Alcott, you are never troubled +with bugs, while my vines are crowded with them?” +</p> + +<p> +“My friend, that is very easily explained,” replied Mr. Alcott. +“I rise very early in the morning, gather all the bugs from my vines and +throw them into your yard.” +</p> + +<h2>Proved His Teacher Wrong</h2> + +<p> +Little Willie’s father found his youthful son holding up one of his +rabbits by the ears and saying to him: “How much is seven times seven, +now?” +</p> + +<p> +“Bah,” the father heard the boy say, “I knew you +couldn’t. Here’s another one. Six times six is how much?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, Willie, what in the world are you doing with your rabbit?” +asked the father. +</p> + +<p> +Willie threw the rabbit down with disgust. “I knew our teacher was lying +to us,” was all he said. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, how?” asked his father. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, she told us this morning that rabbits were the greatest multipliers +in the world.” +</p> + +<h2>At the Department Store</h2> + +<p> +A man with a low voice had just completed his purchases in the department +store, says the “Brooklyn Eagle.” +</p> + +<p> +“What is the name?” asked the clerk. +</p> + +<p> +“Jepson,” replied the man. +</p> + +<p> +“Chipson?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, Jepson.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes, Jefferson.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, Jepson; J-e-p-s-o-n.” +</p> + +<p> +“Jepson?” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s it. You have it. Sixteen eighty-two——” +</p> + +<p> +“Your first name; initial, please.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, K.” +</p> + +<p> +“O.K. Jepson.” +</p> + +<p> +“Excuse me, it isn’t O. K. You did not understand me. I said +‘Oh’.” +</p> + +<p> +“O. Jepson.” +</p> + +<p> +“No; rub out the O. and let the K. stand.” +</p> + +<p> +The clerk looked annoyed. “Will you please give me your initials +again?” +</p> + +<p> +“I said K.” +</p> + +<p> +“I beg your pardon, you said O. K. Perhaps you had better write it +yourself.” +</p> + +<p> +“I said ‘Oh’——” +</p> + +<p> +“Just now you said K.” +</p> + +<p> +“Allow me to finish what I started. I said ‘Oh,’ because I +did not understand what you were asking me. I did not mean that it was my +initial. My name is Kirby Jepson.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh!” +</p> + +<p> +“No, not O., but K. Give me the pencil, and I’ll write it down for +you myself. There, I guess it’s O. K. now.” +</p> + +<h2>The Worst Death There Is</h2> + +<p class="center"> +B<small>Y</small> B<small>ILL</small> N<small>YE</small> +</p> + +<p> +It is now the proper time for the cross-eyed woman to fool with the garden +hose. I have faced death in almost every form, and I do not know what fear is, +but when a woman with one eye gazing into the zodiac and the other peering into +the middle of next week, and wearing one of those floppy sunbonnets, picks up +the nozzle of the garden hose and turns on the full force of the institution, I +fly wildly to the Mountains of Hepsidam. +</p> + +<p> +Water won’t hurt any one, of course, if care is used not to forget and +drink any of it, but it is this horrible suspense and uncertainty about facing +the nozzle of a garden hose in the hands of a cross-eyed woman that unnerves +and paralyzes me. +</p> + +<p> +Instantaneous death is nothing to me. I am as cool and collected where leaden +rain and iron hail are thickest as I would be in my own office writing the +obituary of the man who steals my jokes. But I hate to be drowned slowly in my +good clothes and on dry land, and have my dying gaze rest on a woman whose +ravishing beauty would drive a narrow-gauge mule into convulsions and make him +hate himself t’death. +</p> + +<h2>A Long-Lived Family</h2> + +<p> +A “dime museum” manager, having heard of a man 123 years of age, +journeyed to his home to try and secure him for exhibition purposes. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, my friend,” said the museum manager, “the proofs of +your age seem to be all right. Now, how would you like to come to my place, +just do nothing but sit on a platform and let people look at you, and I will +pay you $100 a week?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’d like it all right,” answered the aged man. “But I +couldn’t go, of course, unless I had my father’s consent.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your father!” gasped the manager. “Do you mean to say your +father is alive?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, indeed,” replied the man. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, where is your father? Home here?” asked the manager. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes,” was the answer. “He’s upstairs, putting +grandfather to bed!” +</p> + +<h2>Silenced the Ringleader</h2> + +<p> +The head teacher in a Sunday-school was much worried by the noise of the pupils +in the next room, At last, unable to bear it any longer, he mounted a chair and +looked over the partition. Seeing a boy a little taller than the others talking +a great deal, he leaned over, hoisted him over the partition, and banged him +into a chair in his room, saying: +</p> + +<p> +“Now be quiet.” +</p> + +<p> +A quarter of an hour later a smaller head appeared around the door and a meek +little voice said: +</p> + +<p> +“Please, sir, you’ve got our teacher.” +</p> + +<h2>Got Out of That, All Right</h2> + +<p> +“My dear,” said a wife to her husband, “do you realize that +you have forgotten that this is my birthday?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, dearie, I did forget it,” replied the husband. +“Isn’t it natural that I should? There isn’t really anything +about you to remind me that you are a day older than you were a year +ago.” +</p> + +<h2>He Simply Looked That Way</h2> + +<p> +The man in the smoker was boasting of his unerring ability to tell from a +man’s looks exactly what city he came from. “You, for +example,” he said to the man next to him, “you are from New +Orleans?” He was right. +</p> + +<p> +“You, my friend,” turning to the man on the other side of him, +“I should say you are from Chicago?” Again he was right. +</p> + +<p> +The other two men got interested. +</p> + +<p> +“And you are from Boston?” he asked the third man. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s right, too,” said the New Englander. +</p> + +<p> +“And you from Philadelphia, I should say?” to the last man. +</p> + +<p> +“No, sir,” answered the man with considerable warmth; +“I’ve been sick for three months: that’s what makes me look +that way!” +</p> + +<h2>What She Would Like</h2> + +<p> +A little girl stood in a city meat-market waiting for some one to attend to her +wants. Finally the proprietor was at liberty, approached her and said +benignantly, “Is there anything you would like, little girl?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes, sir, please: I want a diamond ring, and a seal-skin sacque, a +real foreign nobleman, and a pug dog, and a box at the opera, and, oh, ever so +many other things; but all Ma wants is ten cents’ worth of +bologna.” +</p> + +<h2>The Highest Price in the Store</h2> + +<p> +A rich American woman visited a Japanese art shop in Paris. It happened to be a +dull, dark afternoon. She looked at the bronzes, jewels, drawings and other +things, and finally, pointing toward a dusky corner, she said to the polite +young salesman: “How much is that Japanese idol over there worth?” +</p> + +<p> +The salesman bowed, and answered: “About five hundred thousand francs, +madam. It is the proprietor.” +</p> + +<h2>From Different Points</h2> + +<p> +“Father, you were born in California, you say?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, my son.” +</p> + +<p> +“And mother was born in New York?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“And I was born in Indiana?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, my boy.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, father, don’t it beat the Dutch how we all got +together!” +</p> + +<h2>So Son: So Father?</h2> + +<p> +A small boy who had been very naughty was first reprimanded, then told that he +must take a whipping. He flew upstairs and hid in the far corner under a bed. +Just then the father came home. The mother told him what had occurred. He went +upstairs and proceeded to crawl under the bed toward the youngster, who +whispered excitedly, “Hello, Pop, is she after you, too?” +</p> + +<h2>How Could He?</h2> + +<p> +“Papa” was becoming impatient at the lateness of the hour when he +remarked: “I can’t see why that young fellow who is calling on +Minnie hasn’t sense enough to go home. It’s near midnight.” +</p> + +<p> +“The dear little brother” of the family just then came in, heard +his father’s remark, and ventured some light: +</p> + +<p> +“He can’t go, father. Sister’s sitting on him.” +</p> + +<h2>Couldn’t Leave Town</h2> + +<p> +A lawyer had a horse that always balked when he attempted to cross a certain +bridge leading out of the village. No amount of whipping or urging would induce +him to cross it, so he advertised him for sale: “To be sold for no other +reason than that the owner would like to leave town.” +</p> + +<h2>He Knew His Father</h2> + +<p> +“Suppose,” said a father to his little boy, “you have half an +apple and I give you another half. How much have you?” +</p> + +<p> +“A whole apple,” said the boy. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” continued the father, “suppose you had a half dollar +and I gave you another half dollar. What would you have then?” +</p> + +<p> +“A fit,” promptly answered the boy. +</p> + +<h2>A Valuable Office Boy</h2> + +<p> +The employer was bending over a table, looking at the directory. The new office +boy slipped up quietly and poked a note into his hand. The surprised employer +opened it, and read: +</p> + +<p> +“Honored Sir—Yer pants is ripped.” +</p> + +<h2>She Had a Question to Ask</h2> + +<p> +A certain prominent dry-goods merchant is also a Sunday-school superintendent. +Not long since he devoted the last few moments of the weekly session to an +impressive elucidation of the parable of the Prodigal Son, and afterward asked +with due solemnity if any one of the “little gleaners” present +desired to ask a question. Sissy Jones’s hand shot up. +</p> + +<p> +“Very well,” he said, designating her with a benevolent finger and +a bland smile, “what is it you would like to know, Cecilia?” +</p> + +<p> +“Please, what’s the price of them little pink parasols in your +show-window?” +</p> + +<h2>The Only Time When He Does</h2> + +<p> +A “Subscriber” once wrote to an editor and asked: “Please +tell me, does a man in running around a tree go before or behind +himself?” +</p> + +<p> +The editor answered: +</p> + +<p> +“That depends. If he is trying to catch himself, necessarily he follows +himself, and consequently goes behind. If, on the contrary, he is running away +from himself, the deduction leads to the very obvious conclusion that he +precedes himself, and consequently goes before. If he succeeds in catching up +with himself, and passes himself, at the moment of passing he neither precedes +nor follows himself, but both he and himself are running even. This is the only +case where he does not go before or behind himself.” +</p> + +<h2>In the Absence of a Tip</h2> + +<p> +“Excuse me, madam, would you mind walking the other way and not passing +the horse?” said an English cabman with exaggerated politeness to the fat +lady who had just paid a minimum fare, with no fee. +</p> + +<p> +“Why?” she inquired. +</p> + +<p> +“Because if ’e sees wot ’e’s been carrying for a +shilling ’e’ll ’ave a fit,” was the freezing answer. +</p> + +<h2>Her Father Didn’t Like It</h2> + +<p> +A young man told his girl the other night that if she didn’t marry him +he’d get a rope and hang himself right in front of her house. “Oh, +please, don’t do it, dear,” she said; “you know father +doesn’t want you hanging around here.” +</p> + +<h2>He Didn’t Mind His Going Once</h2> + +<p> +An elderly gentleman, a stranger in New York and not sure of his way, stopped a +young man on Fifth Avenue and said: +</p> + +<p> +“Young man, I would like very much to go to Central Park.” +</p> + +<p> +The young man became thoughtful for a moment, and then, looking the old +gentleman in the face, said: +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I don’t mind your going just this once, but don’t +ever, ever ask me to go there again.” +</p> + +<h2>Never Again</h2> + +<p> +It was a pitiful mistake, an error sad and grim. I waited for the railway +train; the light was low and dim. It came at last, and from a car there stepped +a dainty dame, and, looking up and down the place, she straight unto me came. +“Oh, Jack!” she cried, “oh, dear old Jack!” and kissed +me as she spake; then looked again, and, frightened, cried, “Oh, what a +bad mistake!” I said, “Forgive me, maiden fair, for I am not your +Jack; and as regards the kiss you gave, I’ll straightway give it +back.” And since that night I’ve often stood upon that platform +dim, but only once in a man’s whole life do such things come to him. +</p> + +<h2>A Kiss in the Rain</h2> + +<p class="center"> +B<small>Y</small> S<small>AMUEL</small> M<small>INTURN</small> P<small>ECK</small> +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + One stormy morn I chanced to meet<br/> + A lassie in the town;<br/> + Her locks were like the ripened wheat,<br/> + Her laughing eyes were brown.<br/> + I watched her as she tripped along<br/> + Till madness filled my brain,<br/> + And then—and then—I know ’twas wrong—<br/> + I kissed her in the rain.<br/> +<br/> + With raindrops shining on her cheek<br/> + Like dewdrops on a rose,<br/> + The little lassie strove to speak,<br/> + My boldness to oppose;<br/> + She strove in vain, and quivering,<br/> + Her fingers stole in mine;<br/> + And then the birds began to sing,<br/> + The sun began to shine.<br/> +<br/> + Oh, let the clouds grow dark above,<br/> + My heart is light below;<br/> + ’Tis always summer when we love,<br/> + However winds may blow;<br/> + And I’m as proud as any prince,<br/> + All honors I disdain:<br/> + She says I am her <i>rain beau</i> since<br/> + I kissed her in the rain. +</p> + +<h2>What He Had Re(a)d</h2> + +<p> +An Irishman, says “The Rochester Times,” recently went before +Judge Stephens to be naturalized. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you read the Declaration of Independence?” the Court asked. +</p> + +<p> +“I hov not,” said Pat. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you read the Constitution of the United States?” +</p> + +<p> +“I hov not, yer Honor.” +</p> + +<p> +The Judge looked sternly at the applicant, and asked: +</p> + +<p> +“Well, what have you read?” +</p> + +<p> +Patrick hesitated but the fraction of a second before replying: +</p> + +<p> +“I hov red hairs on me neck, yer Honor.” +</p> + +<h2>Apostle and Epistle</h2> + +<p> +A man riding through the mountains of Tennessee stopped one evening to water +his horse before a little cabin, outside of which sat an old colored woman +watching the antics of a couple of piccaninnies playing near by. +</p> + +<p> +“Good-evening, Aunty,” he called. “Cute pair of boys +you’ve got. Your children?” +</p> + +<p> +“Laws-a-massy! Mah chillun! ’Deed, dem’s mah daughteh’s +chilluns. Come hyah, you boys.” +</p> + +<p> +As the boys obeyed the summons the man inquired their names. +</p> + +<p> +“Clah to goodness, sah, dem chilluns is right smaht named!” said +the old woman. “Ye see, mah daughteh done got ’ligion long ago, +an’ named dese hyah boys right out de Bible, sah. Dis hyah one’s +named Apostle Paul, an’ de uddah’s called Epistle Peter.” +</p> + +<h2>More than Enough</h2> + +<p> +An eight-year-old boy went to a church picnic, and, being a favorite with the +ladies, had been liberally supplied with good things to eat. Later in the day +one of the ladies noticed the boy sitting near a stream with a woebegone +expression on his face and his hands clasped over his stomach. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, what’s the matter, Willie?” she kindly asked. +“Haven’t you had enough to eat?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes’m,” said the boy. “I’ve had enough. I +feel as though I don’t want all I’ve got.” +</p> + +<h2>His Only Request</h2> + +<p> +A pretty young girl was walking through a Richmond hospital with delicacies for +the sick and wounded. She overheard a suffering young Confederate officer say, +“Oh, my Lord!” +</p> + +<p> +Wishing to rebuke him slightly she came to his bedside and said: +</p> + +<p> +“I think that I heard you call upon the name of the Lord. I am one +of His daughters. Is there anything that I can do for you?” +</p> + +<p> +He looked upon the lovely face. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” he said, “please ask Him to make me His +son-in-law.” +</p> + +<h2>A Good Majority</h2> + +<p> +A well-known English surgeon was imparting some clinical instructions to half a +dozen students, according to “The Medical Age.” Pausing at the +bedside of a doubtful case he said: “Now, gentlemen, do you think this is +or is not a case for operation?” +</p> + +<p> +One by one each student made his diagnosis, and all of them answered in the +negative. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, gentlemen, you are all wrong,” said the wielder of the +scalpel, “and I shall operate to-morrow.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, you won’t,” said the patient, as he rose in his bed; +“six to one is a good majority; gimme my clothes.” +</p> + +<h2>Ready to Accommodate Her</h2> + +<p> +Attorney-General Moody was once riding on the platform of a Boston street car, +standing next to the gate that protected passengers from cars coming on the +other track. A Boston lady came to the door of the car, and, as it stopped, +started toward the gate, which was hidden from her by the men standing before +it. +</p> + +<p> +“Other side, please, lady,” said the conductor. +</p> + +<p> +He was ignored as only a born-and-bred Bostonian can ignore a man. +The lady took another step toward the gate. +</p> + +<p> +“You must get off the other side,” said the conductor. +</p> + +<p> +“I wish to get off on this side,” came the answer in tones that +congealed that official into momentary silence. Before he could explain or +expostulate Mr. Moody came to his assistance. +</p> + +<p> +“Stand to one side, gentlemen,” he remarked quietly. “The +lady wishes to climb over the gate.” +</p> + +<h2>A New Name for Them</h2> + +<p> +One rainy afternoon Aunt Sue was explaining the meaning of various words to her +young nephew. “Now, an heirloom, my dear, means something that has been +handed down from father to son,” she said. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” replied the boy thoughtfully, “that’s a queer +name for my pants.” +</p> + +<h2>He Wanted to Know</h2> + +<p> +A bishop in full robes of office, with his gown reaching to his feet, was +teaching a Sunday-school class. At the close he said he would be glad to answer +any questions. +</p> + +<p> +A little hand went up, and he asked: “Well, my boy?” +</p> + +<p> +“Can I ask?” said the boy. +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly,” said the Bishop; “what is it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” asked the boy, “is dem all you’ve got on, or do +you wear pants under dem?” +</p> + +<h2>Woman’s Love and Man’s Love</h2> + +<p> +“There’s just two things that break up most happy homes,” +observed a philosopher. +</p> + +<p> +“What’s them?” inquired a listener. +</p> + +<p> +“Woman’s love for dry goods an’ man’s love for wet +goods, b’gosh!” +</p> + +<h2>Much Simpler</h2> + +<p> +At a country fair out in Kansas a man went up to a tent where some elk were on +exhibition, and stared wistfully up at the sign. +</p> + +<p> +“I’d like to go in there,” he said to the keeper, “but +it would be mean to go in without my family, and I cannot afford to pay for my +wife and seventeen children.” +</p> + +<p> +The keeper stared at him in astonishment. “Are all those your +children?” he gasped. +</p> + +<p> +“Every one,” said the man. +</p> + +<p> +“You wait a minute,” said the keeper. “I’m going to +bring the elk out and let them see you all.” +</p> + +<h2>One Button was in Use</h2> + +<p> +A school principal was trying to make clear to his class the fundamental +doctrines of the Declaration of Independence. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, boys,” he said, “I will give you each three ordinary +buttons. Here they are. You must think of the first one as representing Life, +of the second one as representing Liberty, and the third one as representing +the Pursuit of Happiness. Next Sunday I will ask you each to produce the three +buttons and tell me what they represent.” +</p> + +<p> +The following Sunday the teacher said to the youngest member: +</p> + +<p> +“Now, Johnnie, produce your three buttons and tell me what they stand +for.” +</p> + +<p> +“I ain’t got ’em all,” he sobbed, holding out two of +the buttons. “Here’s Life an’ here’s Liberty, but +mommer sewed the Pursuit of Happiness on my pants.” +</p> + +<h2>He Remembered</h2> + +<p> +A restaurant-keeper hung out this sign: +</p> + +<p class="center"> +<i>“Coffee:<br/> +Such as Mother Used to Make.”</i> +</p> + +<p> +A customer asked, pointing to the sign: +</p> + +<p> +“Is your coffee really such as mother used to make?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is,” replied the proprietor. +</p> + +<p> +“Then,” said the man with a reminiscent look, “give me a cup +of tea.” +</p> + +<h2>Wasn’t Delicate at All</h2> + +<p> +A young man, not regarded as a very desirable suitor, had called upon a young +lady a number of times, each time to be told by the maid that “Miss +Florence was not well today.” +</p> + +<p> +One day, in response to his card, the young lady’s mother, who was a +recent accession to the newly-rich ranks, and whose education was not as sure +as it might be, appeared and explained once more to the young man that the +daughter was not well. +</p> + +<p> +“I am very sorry, indeed,” said the young man as he rose to go, +“that your daughter is so delicate.” +</p> + +<p> +“Delicate?” sniffed the mother; “Florence dell’cate? +Not at all. Why, she is the most indelicate girl you ever met.” +</p> + +<h2>A Live Topic</h2> + +<p> +A member of the faculty of the University of Chicago, according to +“Harper’s Weekly,” tells of the sad case of a young woman +from Indiana who was desirous of attaining social prominence in Chicago. +</p> + +<p> +Soon after her arrival there she made the acquaintance of a student at the +university to whom she took a great fancy. +</p> + +<p> +Evidently it was at this time she realized for the first time that her early +education had been neglected, for she said to a friend: +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose that, as he is a college man, I’ll have to be awful +careful what I say. Whatever will I talk about to him?” +</p> + +<p> +The friend suggested history as a safe topic. To her friend’s +astonishment she took the advice seriously, and shortly commenced in earnest to +“bone up” in English history. +</p> + +<p> +When the young man called, the girl listened for some time with ill-concealed +impatience to his talk of football, outdoor meets, dances, etc., but finally +she decided to take the matter in her own hands. She had not done all that +reading for nothing; so, a pause in the conversation affording the desired +opportunity, she suddenly exclaimed, with considerable vivacity: +</p> + +<p> +“Wasn’t it awful about Mary, Queen of Scots?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, what’s the matter?” stammered the student, confused. +</p> + +<p> +“My gracious!” almost yelled the girl from Indiana, +“didn’t you know? Why, the poor thing had her head cut off!” +</p> + +<h2>The After-College Girl’s Complaint</h2> + +<p> +A lady was calling on some friends one summer afternoon. The talk buzzed along +briskly, fans waved and the daughter of the house kept twitching uncomfortably, +frowning and making little smothered exclamations of annoyance. Finally, with a +sigh, she rose and left the room. +</p> + +<p> +“Your daughter,” said the visitor, “seems to be suffering +from the heat.” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said the hostess. “She is just back home from college +and she is suffering from the family grammar.” +</p> + +<h2>It All Seemed So Unnecessary</h2> + +<p> +A city man once had occasion, says “Lippincott’s Magazine,” +to stop at a country home where a tin basin and a roller-towel on the back +porch sufficed for the family’s ablutions. For two mornings the +“hired man” of the household watched in silence the visitor’s +efforts at making a toilette under the unfavorable auspices, but when on the +third day the tooth-brush, nail-file, whisk-broom, etc., had been duly used and +returned to their places in the traveler’s grip, he could suppress his +curiosity no longer, so boldly put the question: “Say, Mister, air you +always that much trouble to yo’se’f?” +</p> + +<h2>Overdid it a Bit</h2> + +<p> +A famous statesman prided himself on his success in campaigning, when called +upon to reach a man’s vote through his family pride. +</p> + +<p> +On one of his tours he passed through a country town when he came suddenly upon +a charming group—a comely woman with a bevy of little ones about +her—in a garden. He stopped short, then advanced and leaned over the +front gate. +</p> + +<p> +“Madam,” he said in his most ingratiating way, “may I kiss +these beautiful children?” +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly, sir,” the lady answered demurely. +</p> + +<p> +“They are lovely darlings,” said the campaigner after he had +finished the eleventh. “I have seldom seen more beautiful babies. Are +they all yours, marm?” +</p> + +<p> +The lady blushed deeply. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course they are—the sweet little treasures,” he went on. +“From whom else, marm, could they have inherited these limpid eyes, these +rosy cheeks, these profuse curls, these comely figures and these musical +voices?” +</p> + +<p> +The lady continued blushing. +</p> + +<p> +“By-the-way, marm,” said the statesman, “may I bother you to +tell your estimable husband that ———, the Republican +candidate for Governor, called upon him this evening?” +</p> + +<p> +“I beg your pardon,” said the lady, “I have no +husband.” +</p> + +<p> +“But these children, madam—you surely are not a widow?” +</p> + +<p> +“I fear you were mistaken, sir, when you first came up. These are not my +children. This is an orphan asylum!” +</p> + +<h2>One on the Doctor That Time</h2> + +<p> +A prominent physician, whose specialty was physical diagnosis, required his +patients, before entering his private consultation-room, to divest themselves +of all superfluous clothing in order to save time. One day a man presented +himself without having complied with this requirement. +</p> + +<p> +“Why do you come in here without complying with my rules?” demanded +the doctor. “Just step into that side room and remove your clothing and +then I’ll see you. Next patient, please!” +</p> + +<p> +The man did as requested, and after a time presented himself in regular order +duly divested of his clothing. +</p> + +<p> +“Now,” said the doctor, “what can I do for you?” +</p> + +<p> +“I just called,” replied the man, “to collect that tailoring +bill which you owe us.” +</p> + +<h2>Anxious About Him</h2> + +<p> +One winter’s day a very bowlegged tramp called at a home in Ontario and +stood to warm himself by the kitchen stove. A little boy in the home surveyed +him carefully for some minutes, then finally approaching him, he said: +“Say, mister, you better stand back; you’re warping!” +</p> + +<h2>The Only Way He Could Help</h2> + +<p> +Chief Justice Matthews, while presiding over the Supreme Court at Washington, +took the several Justices of the Court for a run down Chesapeake Bay. A stiff +wind sprang up, and Justice Gray was getting decidedly the worst of it. As he +leaned over the rail in great distress, Chief Justice Matthews touched him on +the shoulder and said in a tone of deepest sympathy: “Is there anything I +can do for you, Gray?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, thank you,” returned the sick Justice, “unless your +Honor can overrule this motion.” +</p> + +<h2>He Was Willing to Oblige</h2> + +<p> +A young North Carolina girl is charming, but, like a great many other charming +people, she is poor. She never has more than two evening gowns in a season, and +the ruin of one of them is always a very serious matter to her. She went to a +little dancing-party last week and she wore a brand-new white frock. During the +evening a great big, red-faced, perspiring man came up and asked her to dance. +He wore no gloves. She looked at his well-meaning but moist hands despairingly, +and thought of the immaculate back of her waist. She hesitated a bit, and then +she said, with a winning smile; +</p> + +<p> +“Of course I’ll dance with you, but, if you don’t mind, +won’t you please use your handkerchief?” +</p> + +<p> +The man looked at her blankly a moment or two. Then a light broke over his +face. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, certainly,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +And he pulled out his handkerchief and blew his nose. +</p> + +<h2>Not All the Time, But——</h2> + +<p> +A man saw a waiter in a restaurant spill a tureen of tomato soup over a young +lady’s white gown. +</p> + +<p> +The young lady, instead of flying into a passion, smiled. She said it +didn’t matter. She continued to eat and to talk as though nothing had +happened. +</p> + +<p> +This so impressed the man that he got an introduction to the young lady, +proposed to her at the end of a month or so, and was accepted. +</p> + +<p> +Some time after the marriage he spoke of the tomato-soup accident. +</p> + +<p> +“I shall never forget it,” said the bride. +</p> + +<p> +“Your conduct,” said the man, “was admirable.” +</p> + +<p> +“I remember,” she said, “that I did behave very well at the +time; but I wish you could have seen the marks of my teeth on the bedpost that +night.” +</p> + +<h2>Necessity and Invention</h2> + +<p> +A mother with her seven children started away on a journey. After entering the +car the largest child was laid out flat on the seat, and the remaining six then +sat upon him in a row. +</p> + +<p> +When the conductor came around to collect the fares the mother counted her +money, handed it over, smiled, and suavely said: “Sir, the oldest is +under six.” +</p> + +<h2>Taking No Chances</h2> + +<p> +An epileptic dropped in a fit on the streets of Boston not long ago, and was +taken to a hospital. Upon removing his coat there was found pinned to his +waistcoat a slip of paper on which was written: +</p> + +<p> +“This is to inform the house-surgeon that this is just a case of plain +fit: not appendicitis. My appendix has already been removed twice.” +</p> + +<h2>Too Much Curiosity</h2> + +<p> +A dangerous operation was being performed upon a woman. Old Doctor +A———, a quaint German, full of kindly wit and professional +enthusiasm, had several younger doctors with him. One of them was administering +the ether. He became so interested in the old doctor’s work that he +withdrew the cone from the patient’s nostrils and she half-roused and +rose to a sitting posture, looking with wild-eyed amazement over the +surroundings. It was a critical period, and Doctor A——— did +not want to be interrupted. “Lay down, dere, voman,” he commanded +gruffly. “You haf more curiosity as a medical student.” +</p> + +<h2>They Were Both Charged</h2> + +<p> +A little girl, brushing her hair, found that it “crackled,” and +asked her mother why it did. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, dear, you have electricity in your hair,” explained the +mother. +</p> + +<p> +“Isn’t that funny?” commented the little one. “I have +electricity in my hair, and Grandmother has gas in her stomach.” +</p> + +<h2>Could Use the Other Kind, Too</h2> + +<p> +“Here,” said the salesman, “is something we call the +‘lovers’ clock.’ You can set it so it will take it two hours +to run one hour.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll take that,” said Miss Jarmer with a bright blush. +“And now, if you have one that can be set so as to run two hours in one +hour’s time or less, I think I’d like one of that kind, too.” +</p> + +<h2>A Regard for Appearance</h2> + +<p> +A milliner endeavored to sell to a colored woman one of the last season’s +hats at a very moderate price. It was a big white picture-hat. +</p> + +<p> +“Law, no, honey!” exclaimed the woman. “I could nevah wear +that. I’d look jes’ like a blueberry in a pan of milk.” +</p> + +<h2>Rapid-Fire</h2> + +<p> +A frivolous young English girl, with no love for the Stars and Stripes, once +exclaimed at a celebration where the American flag was very much in evidence: +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, what a silly-looking thing the American flag is! It suggests nothing +but checker-berry candy.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” replied a bystander, “the kind of candy that has made +everybody sick who ever tried to lick it.” +</p> + +<h2>Kipling at a Luncheon</h2> + +<p> +At a tea the other day, says “The New York Sun,” a woman heard the +following remarks made about her favorite author. She turned to listen, amazed +by the eccentricities of conduct narrated. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, you know,” the hostess was saying, “Kipling came in and +behaved so strangely! At luncheon he suddenly sprang up and wouldn’t let +the waitress come near the table. Every time that she tried to come near he +would jump at her. +</p> + +<p> +“He made a dive for the cake, which was on the lower shelf of the +sideboard, and took it into the parlor to eat it. He got the crumbs all over +the sofa and the beautiful rug. +</p> + +<p> +“When he had finished his cake he simply sat and glared at us.” +</p> + +<p> +The visitor finally could not control herself, and asked: +</p> + +<p> +“Excuse me, but are you speaking of Mr. Rudyard Kipling?” +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Rudyard Kipling?” echoed the hostess. “Oh, no; Kipling +is our dog!” +</p> + +<h2>Getting His Trousseau Ready</h2> + +<p> +The kindly ’Squire of the neighborhood was just leaving from a friendly +social visit to Mrs. Maguire. +</p> + +<p> +“And your son, Mrs. Maguire?” said the ’Squire as he reached +for his hat. “I hope he is well. Busy, I suppose, getting ready for his +wedding tonight?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, not very busy this minit, ’Squire,” answered the +beaming mother. “He’s upstairs in bed while I’m washing out +his trousseau.” +</p> + +<h2>There Was a Chance</h2> + +<p> +“Going to send your boy on an ocean trip, are you?” said a friend +to a father. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” replied the father. “You see, if there is anything in +him I think a long sea voyage will bring it out.” +</p> + +<h2>Deserved to be Tried</h2> + +<p> +The Judge was at dinner in the new household when the young wife asked: +“Did you ever try any of my biscuits, Judge?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said the Judge, “I never did, but I dare say they +deserve it.” +</p> + +<h2>End of the Honeymoon</h2> + +<p> +An old married man happened to meet a beaming bridegroom on the latter’s +first day at business after the wedding trip. +</p> + +<p> +“Hello!” said he; “finished your honeymoon yet?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know,” replied the happy husband, smiling. “I +have never been able to determine the exact meaning of the word +honeymoon.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, then, has your wife commenced to do the cooking yet?” +</p> + +<h2>If You Have a Mole</h2> + +<p> +No one is said to be without a mole or two, and these are some of the +prognostications that mole-wearers may draw from their brown ornaments; +</p> + +<p> +A mole on the right side of a man’s forehead denotes wonderful luck; on +the right side of a woman’s forehead, gifts from the dead. +</p> + +<p> +On the left side of a man’s forehead a mole denotes a long term in +prison, on the left side of a woman’s forehead, two husbands and a life +of exile. +</p> + +<p> +A man with a mole in the middle of his forehead has a cruel mind; a woman with +such a mole is foolish and envious. +</p> + +<p> +A mole on the neck in man or woman promises a long and happy life, wealth and +fame. +</p> + +<p> +A man with a mole on the left side of the upper lip rarely marries, and such a +mole in the case of a woman denotes suffering. +</p> + +<p> +On the right side of the upper-lip a mole promises great good fortune to both +sexes. +</p> + +<h2>Her Own Eyes Good Enough for Him</h2> + +<p> +A little Scotch boy’s grandmother was packing his luncheon for him to +take to school one morning. Suddenly looking up in the old lady’s face, +he said: +</p> + +<p> +“Grandmother, does yer specs magnify?” +</p> + +<p> +“A little, my child,” she answered. +</p> + +<p> +“Aweel, then,” said the boy, “I wad juist like it if ye wad +tak’ them aff when ye’re packin’ my loonch.” +</p> + +<h2>How Did He Know?</h2> + +<p> +After dinner, when the ladies had gone upstairs, the men, over their coffee and +cigars, talked, as men will, of love. +</p> + +<p> +All of a sudden the host cried in a loud voice: +</p> + +<p> +“I will tell you, gentlemen, this is the truth: I have kissed the dainty +Japanese girl. I have kissed the South Sea Island maiden. I have kissed the +slim Indian beauty. And the girls of England, of Germany, even of America, I +have kissed, but it is most true that to kiss my wife is best of all.” +</p> + +<p> +Then a young man cried across the table: +</p> + +<p> +“By Heaven, sir, you are right there!” +</p> + +<h2>So Mother—So Son</h2> + +<p> +Vincent was altogether too garrulous in school to please his teachers. Such +punishments as the institution allowed to be meted out were tried without any +apparent effect upon the boy until at last the head Master decided to mention +the lad’s fault upon his monthly report. +</p> + +<p> +So the next report to his father had these words: “Vincent talks a great +deal.” +</p> + +<p> +Back came the report by mail duly signed, but with this written in red ink +under the comment: “You ought to hear his mother.” +</p> + +<h2>An Endless Wash</h2> + +<p> +In one of the lesser Indian hill wars an English detachment took an Afghan +prisoner. The Afghan was very dirty. Accordingly two privates were deputed to +strip and wash him. +</p> + +<p> +The privates dragged the man to a stream of running water, undressed him, +plunged him in, and set upon him lustily with stiff brushes and large cakes of +white soap. +</p> + +<p> +After a long time one of the privates came back to make a report. He saluted +his officer and said disconsolately: +</p> + +<p> +“It’s no use, sir. It’s no use.” +</p> + +<p> +“No use?” said the officer. “What do you mean? Haven’t +you washed that Afghan yet?” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s no use, sir,” the private repeated. “We’ve +washed him for two hours, but it’s no use.” +</p> + +<p> +“How do you mean it’s no use?” said the officer angrily. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, sir,” said the private, “after rubbin’ him and +scrubbin’ him till our arms ached I’ll be hanged if we didn’t +come to another suit of clothes.” +</p> + +<h2>Once Dead Always Dead</h2> + +<p> +The hero of the play, after putting up a stiff fight with the villain, had died +to slow music, says a storyteller in “The Chicago Tribune.” +</p> + +<p> +The audience insisted on his coming before the curtain. +</p> + +<p> +He refused to appear. +</p> + +<p> +But the audience still insisted. +</p> + +<p> +Then the manager, a gentleman with a strong accent, came to the front. +</p> + +<p> +“Ladies an’ gintlemen,” he said, “the carpse thanks ye +kindly, but he says he’s dead, an’ he’s goin’ to stay +dead.” +</p> + +<h2>Had to Get it Done Somehow</h2> + +<p> +A little boy bustled into a grocery one day with a memorandum in his hand. +</p> + +<p> +“Hello, Mr. Smith,” he said. “I want thirteen pounds of +coffee at 32 cents.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very good,” said the grocer, and he noted down the sale, and put +his clerk to packing the coffee. “Anything else, Charlie?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. Twenty-seven pounds of sugar at 9 cents.” +</p> + +<p> +“The loaf, eh? And what else?” +</p> + +<p> +“Seven and a half pounds of bacon at 20 cents.” +</p> + +<p> +“That will be a good brand. Go on.” +</p> + +<p> +“Five pounds of tea at 90 cents; eleven and a half quarts of molasses at +8 cents a pint; two eight-pound hams at 21¼ cents, and five dozen jars of +pickled walnuts at 24 cents a jar.” +</p> + +<p> +The grocer made out the bill, +</p> + +<p> +“It’s a big order,” he said. “Did your mother tell you +to pay for it?” +</p> + +<p> +“My mother,” said the boy, as he pocketed the neat and accurate +bill, “has nothing to do with this business. It is my arithmetic lesson +and I had to get it done somehow.” +</p> + +<h2>A Personal Demonstration</h2> + +<p> +Chatting in leisurely fashion with Prince Bismarck in Berlin Lord Russell asked +the Chancellor how he managed to rid himself of importunate visitors whom he +could not refuse to see, but who stuck like burrs when once admitted. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh,” replied Bismarck, “I have my easy escape. My wife knows +people of this class very well, and when she is sure there is a bore here and +sees them staying too long she manages to call me away on some plausible +pretext.” +</p> + +<p> +Scarcely had he finished speaking when the Princess Bismarck appeared at the +door. “My dear,” she said to her husband, “you must come at +once and take your medicine; you should have taken it an hour ago.” +</p> + +<h2>Not for Him</h2> + +<p> +A quiet and retiring citizen occupied a seat near the door of a crowded car +when a masterful stout woman entered. +</p> + +<p> +Having no newspaper behind which to hide he was fixed and subjugated by her +glittering eye. He rose and offered his place to her. Seating +herself—without thanking him—she exclaimed in tones that reached to +the farthest end of the car: +</p> + +<p> +“What do you want to stand up there for? Come here and sit on my +lap.” +</p> + +<p> +“Madam,” gasped the man, as his face became scarlet. “I beg +your pardon, I—I——” +</p> + +<p> +“What do you mean?” shrieked the woman. “You know very well I +was speaking to my niece there behind you.” +</p> + +<h2>Such a Pleasant Room</h2> + +<p> +“It ain’t ev’rybody I’d put to sleep in this +room,” said old Mrs. Jinks to the fastidious and extremely nervous young +minister who was spending a night at her house. +</p> + +<p> +“This here room is full of sacred associations to me,” she went on, +as she bustled around opening shutters and arranging the curtains. “My +first husband died in that bed with his head on these very pillers, and poor +Mr. Jinks died settin’ right in that corner. Sometimes when I come into +the room in the dark I think I see him settin’ there still. +</p> + +<p> +“My own father died layin’ right on that lounge under the winder. +Poor Pa! He was a Speeritualist, and he allus said he’d appear in this +room after he died, and sometimes I’m foolish enough to look for him. If +you should see anything of him tonight you’d better not tell me; for +it’d be a sign to me that there was something in Speeritualism, and +I’d hate to think that. +</p> + +<p> +“My son by my first man fell dead of heart-disease right where you stand. +He was a doctor, and there’s two whole skeletons in that closet that +belonged to him, and half a dozen skulls in that lower drawer. +</p> + +<p> +“There, I guess things’ll do now—— +</p> + +<p> +“Well, good-night, and pleasant dreams.” +</p> + +<h2>Giving a Woman Her Rights</h2> + +<p> +The car was full and the night was wet. The bell rang, the car stopped, and a +lady entered. As she looked tired a nice old gentleman in the corner rose and +inquired in a kind voice, “Would you like to sit down, ma’am? +Excuse me, though,” he added; “I think you are Mrs. Sprouter, the +advocate of woman’s rights.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am, sir,” replied the lady calmly. +</p> + +<p> +“You think that women should be equal to men?” further queried the +old gentleman. +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly,” was the firm reply. +</p> + +<p> +“You think that they should have the same rights and privileges?” +was the next question. +</p> + +<p> +“Most emphatically,” came from the supporter of woman’s +rights. +</p> + +<p> +“Very well,” said the kind old gentleman, sitting down again, +“just stand up and enjoy them.” +</p> + +<h2>A Riddle to Willie</h2> + +<p class="poem"> + I asked my Pa a simple thing;<br/> + “Where holes in doughnuts go?”<br/> + Pa read his paper, then he said:<br/> + “Oh, you’re too young to know.”<br/> +<br/> + I asked my Ma about the wind:<br/> + “Why can’t you see it blow?”<br/> + Ma thought a moment, then she said:<br/> + “Oh, you’re too young to know.”<br/> +<br/> + Now, why on earth do you suppose<br/> + They went and licked me so?<br/> + Ma asked: “Where is that jam?” I said:<br/> + “Oh, you’re too young to know.” +</p> + +<h2>Under Her Bed</h2> + +<p> +Mrs. Hicks was telling some ladies about the burglar scare in her house the +night before. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” she said, “I heard a noise and got up, and there from +under the bed I saw a man’s legs sticking out.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mercy,” exclaimed a woman—“the burglar’s +legs?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, my dear, my husband’s legs. He had heard the noise, +too.” +</p> + +<h2>Didn’t Think He Was Polite</h2> + +<p> +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 tones: +</p> + +<p> +“Let go the sheet.” +</p> + +<p> +No response. +</p> + +<p> +Then again: +</p> + +<p> +“Let go that sheet, quick.” +</p> + +<p> +Still no movement. A few minutes after, when both were clinging to the bottom +of the overturned boat, he said: +</p> + +<p> +“Why didn’t you let go that sheet when I told you to, dear?” +</p> + +<p> +“I would have,” said the bride, “if you had not been so rough +about it. You ought to speak more kindly to your wife.” +</p> + +<h2>He Had a Large Reach</h2> + +<p> +President Eliot, of Harvard, on a visit to the Pacific Coast, met Professor O. +B. Johnson, of the University of Washington, says “The New York +Tribune.” In the course of the conversation President Eliot asked the +Westerner what chair he held. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said Professor Johnson, “I am professor of biology, +but I also give instruction in meteorology, botany, physiology, chemistry, +entomology and a few others.” +</p> + +<p> +“I should say that you occupied a whole settee, not a chair,” +replied Harvard’s chief. +</p> + +<h2>When Fighting Really Began</h2> + +<p> +An aged, gray-haired and very wrinkled old woman, arrayed in the outlandish +calico costume of the mountains, was summoned as a witness in court to tell +what she knew about a fight in her house. She took the witness-stand with +evidences of backwardness and proverbial Bourbon verdancy. The Judge asked her +in a kindly voice what took place. She insisted it did not amount to much, but +the Judge by his persistency finally got her to tell the story of the bloody +fracas. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, I tell ye, Jedge, it didn’t amount to nuthn’. The fust +I knowed about it was when Bill Saunder called Tom Smith a liar, en Tom knocked +him down with a stick o’ wood. One o’ Bill’s friends then cut +Tom with a knife, slicin’ a big chunk out o’ him. Then Sam Jones, +who was a friend of Tom’s, shot the other feller and two more shot him, +en three or four others got cut right smart by somebody. That nachly caused +some excitement, Jedge, en then they commenced fightin’.” +</p> + +<h2> +Guarding Against Future Mistakes</h2> + +<p> +An early morning customer in an optician’s shop was a young woman with a +determined air. She addressed the first salesman she saw. “I want to look +at a pair of eyeglasses, sir, of extra magnifying power.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, ma’am,” replied the salesman; “something very +strong?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir. While visiting in the country I made a very painful blunder +which I never want to repeat.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed! Mistook a stranger for an acquaintance?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, not exactly that; I mistook a bumblebee for a blackberry.” +</p> + +<h2> +A Mistake on Both Sides</h2> + +<p> +An old gentleman on board one of the numerous steamers which ply between +Holyhead and the Irish coast missed his handkerchief, and accused a soldier +standing by his side of stealing it, which the soldier, an Irishman, denied. +Some few minutes afterward the gentleman found the missing article in his hat; +he was then most profuse in his apologies to the soldier. +</p> + +<p> +“Not another wurrd,” said Pat; “it was a misthake on both +sides—ye took me for a thafe, and I took ye for a gintlemon.” +</p> + +<h2> +Sauce for the Gander</h2> + +<p> +A busy merchant was about to leave his home in Brixton for a trip on the +Continent, and his wife, knowing his aversion to letter-writing, reminded him +gently of the fact that she and the children would be lonely in his absence and +anxious as to his welfare from day to day. Kissing him affectionately, she +said: +</p> + +<p> +“Now, John, you must be eyes and ears for us at home and drop us an +occasional post-card telling us anything of interest. Don’t forget, will +you, dear?” +</p> + +<p> +The husband promised. The next morning his wife received a postal-card: +“Dear wife, I reached Dover all right. Yours aff.” +</p> + +<p> +Though somewhat disappointed she thought her husband must have been pressed for +time. Two days later, however, another card arrived, with the startling +announcement: “Here I am in Paris. Yours ever.” And still later: +“I am indeed in Paris. Yours.” +</p> + +<p> +Then the wife decided to have a little fun and seized her pen and wrote: +“Dear husband, the children and I are at Brixton. Yours.” +</p> + +<p> +A few days later she wrote again: “We are still in Brixton.” +</p> + +<p> +In her last communication she grew more enthusiastic: “Dear husband, here +we are in Brixton. I repeat it, sir, we are in Brixton. P.S.—We are, +indeed.” +</p> + +<p> +In due time her husband reached home, fearing that his poor wife had +temporarily lost her senses, and hastened to ask the meaning of her strange +messages. With a winning smile she handed him his own three postal-cards. +</p> + +<h2> +Those Hits at “The Journal”</h2> + +<p> +“Life” has the latest and best of those jokes aimed at this +magazine, which seem so popular. +</p> + +<p> +This time it is of a mighty hunter who has just killed, by a single shot, a +tiger of incredible immensity. +</p> + +<p> +After the great feat a friend standing by says to the man of brawn: +</p> + +<p> +“Mighty steady nerves you must have. That beast was right on you! How do +you explain it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Easy enough,” says the mighty hunter. “I bathe three times a +day, never touch meat, fruit, cereals, stimulants or tobacco, drink five +gallons of water after every meal, and read nothing but T<small>HE</small> +L<small>ADIES</small>’ H<small>OME</small> J<small>OURNAL</small>.” +</p> + +<h2> +Easing His Conscience</h2> + +<p> +The Rev. Mr. Goodman (inspecting himself in mirror): “Caroline, I +don’t really believe I ought to wear this wig. It looks like living a +lie.” +</p> + +<p> +“Bless your heart, Avery,” said his better half, “don’t let +that trouble you. That wig will never fool anybody for one moment.” +</p> + +<h2> +He Would Lose, Anyway</h2> + +<p> +Here is a young physician who has never been able to smoke a cigar. “Just +one poisons me,” says the youthful doctor. +</p> + +<p> +Recently the doctor was invited to a large dinner-party. When the women had +left the table cigars were accepted by all the men except the physician. Seeing +his friend refuse the cigar the host in astonishment exclaimed: +</p> + +<p> +“What, not smoking? Why, my dear fellow, you lose half your +dinner!” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I know I do,” meekly replied the doctor, “but if I +smoked one I should lose the whole of it!” +</p> + +<h2> +Force of Habit</h2> + +<p> +A physician started a model insane asylum, says “The New York Sun,” +and set apart one ward especially for crazy motorists and chauffeurs. Taking a +friend through the building he pointed out with particular pride the automobile +ward and called attention to its elegant furnishings and equipment. +</p> + +<p> +“But,” said the friend, “the place is empty; I don’t +see any patients.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, they are all under the cots fixing the slats,” explained the +physician. +</p> + +<h2> +What “R. S. V. P.” Means</h2> + +<p> +A young man asked a country ’squire what the letters “R. S. V. +P.” meant at the foot of an invitation. The ’squire, with a little +chuckle, answered: +</p> + +<p> +“They mean, ‘Rush in, Shake hands, Victual up, and +Put.’” +</p> + +<h2>The Wrong Kind of a Baby</h2> + +<p> +In a certain home where the stork recently visited there is a six-year-old son +of inquiring mind. When he was first taken in to see the new arrival he +exclaimed: +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, mamma, it hasn’t any teeth! And no hair!” Then, clasping +his hands in despair, he cried: “Somebody has done us! It’s an old +baby.” +</p> + +<h2>A Poser for the Salesman</h2> + +<p> +“It’s not so much a durable article that I require, sir,” +said Miss Simpkins. “I want something dainty, you know; something coy, +and at the same time just a wee bit saucy—that might look well for +evening wear.” +</p> + +<h2>Not in the Army, After All</h2> + +<p> +A Methodist negro exhorter shouted: “Come up en jine de army ob de +Lohd.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ise done jined,” replied one of the congregation. +</p> + +<p> +“Whar’d yoh jine?” asked the exhorter. +</p> + +<p> +“In de Baptis’ Chu’ch.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, chile,” said the exhorter, “yoh ain’t in the +army; yoh’s in de navy.” +</p> + +<h2>Her Literary Loves</h2> + +<p> +A talented young professor who was dining one evening at the home of a college +president became very much interested in the very pretty girl seated at his +left. Conversation was somewhat fitful. Finally he decided to guide it into +literary channels, where he was more at home, and, turning to his companion, +asked; +</p> + +<p> +“Are you fond of literature?” +</p> + +<p> +“Passionately,” she replied. “I love books dearly.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then you must admire Sir Walter Scott,” he exclaimed with sudden +animation. “Is not his ‘Lady of the Lake’ exquisite in its +flowing grace and poetic imagery? Is it not——” +</p> + +<p> +“It is perfectly lovely,” she assented, clasping her hands in +ecstasy. “I suppose I have read it a dozen times.” +</p> + +<p> +“And Scott’s ‘Marmion’” he continued, “with +its rugged simplicity and marvelous description—one can almost smell the +heather on the heath while perusing its splendid pages.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is perfectly grand,” she murmured. +</p> + +<p> +“And Scott’s ‘Peveril of the Peak’ and his noble +‘Bride of Lammermoor’—where in the English language will you +find anything more heroic than his grand auld Scottish characters and his +graphic, forceful pictures of feudal times and customs? You like them, I am +sure.” +</p> + +<p> +“I just dote upon them,” she replied. +</p> + +<p> +“And Scott’s Emulsion,” he continued hastily, for a faint +suspicion was beginning to dawn upon him. +</p> + +<p> +“I think,” she interrupted rashly, “that it’s the best +thing he ever wrote.” +</p> + +<h2>How Grandma Viewed Them</h2> + +<p> +“I’m glad Billy had the sense to marry a settled old maid,” +said Grandma Winkum at the wedding. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, Grandma?” asked the son. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, gals is hity-tity, and widders is kinder overrulin’ and +upsettin’. But old maids is thankful and willin’ to please.” +</p> + +<h2>So Easy When it is Explained</h2> + +<p> +A woman riding in a Philadelphia trolley-car said to the conductor: +</p> + +<p> +“Can you tell me, please, on what trolley-cars I can use these exchange +slips? They mix me up somewhat.” +</p> + +<p> +“They really shouldn’t, madam,” said the polite conductor. +“It is very simple: East of the junction by a westbound car an exchange +from an eastbound car is good only if the westbound car is west of the junction +formed by said eastbound car. South of the junction formed by a northbound car +an exchange from a southbound car is good south of the junction if the +northbound car was north of the junction at the time of issue, but only south +of the junction going south if the southbound car was going north at the time +it was south of the junction. That is all there is to it.” +</p> + +<h2>Sixty Girls Not One Too Many</h2> + +<p> +A New York firm recently hung the following sign at the entrance of a large +building: “Wanted: Sixty girls to sew buttons on the sixth floor.” +</p> + +<h2>One on the President</h2> + +<p> +When the President alighted at Red Hill, Virginia, a few months ago, to see his +wife’s new cottage, he noticed that an elderly woman was about to board +the train, and, with his usual courtesy, he rushed forward to assist her. That +done, he grasped her hand and gave it an “executive shake.” This +was going too far, and the woman, snatching her hand away and eying him +wrathfully, exclaimed: “Young man, I don’t know who you are, and I +don’t care a cent; but I must say you are the freshest somebody +I’ve ever seen in these parts.” +</p> + +<h2>No Doubt of it</h2> + +<p> +The lesson was from the “Prodigal Son,” and the Sunday-school +teacher was dwelling on the character of the elder brother. “But amidst +all the rejoicing,” he said, “there was one to whom the preparation +of the feast brought no joy, to whom the prodigal’s return gave no +pleasure, but only bitterness; one who did not approve of the feast being held, +and had no wish to attend it. Now can any of you tell who this was?” +There was a short silence, followed by a vigorous cracking of thumbs, and then +from a dozen little mouths came the chorus: “Please, sir, it was the +fatted calf.” +</p> + +<h2>The Lesson Stopped</h2> + +<p> +The teacher was taking a class in the infant Sabbath-school room and was making +her pupils finish each sentence to show that they understood her. +</p> + +<p> +“The idol had eyes,” the teacher said, “but it could +not——” +</p> + +<p> +“See,” cried the children. +</p> + +<p> +“It had ears, but it could not——” +</p> + +<p> +“Hear,” was the answer. +</p> + +<p> +“It had lips,” she said, “but it could +not——” +</p> + +<p> +“Speak,” once more replied the children. +</p> + +<p> +“It had a nose, but it could not——” +</p> + +<p> +“Wipe it,” shouted the children; and the lesson had to stop a +moment. +</p> + +<h2>The Wrong One</h2> + +<p> +A young man had been calling now and then on a young lady, when one night, as +he sat in the parlor waiting for her to come down, her mother entered the room +instead, and asked him in a very grave, stern way what his intentions were. +</p> + +<p> +He turned very red, and was about to stammer some incoherent reply, when +suddenly the young lady called down from the head of the stairs: +</p> + +<p> +“Mamma, mamma, that is not the one.” +</p> + +<h2>A Good Pair of Boots</h2> + +<p> +“You know,” said a “smart” young man to a girl, +“some one has said that ‘if you would make a lasting pair of boots +take for the sole the tongue of a woman.’” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” replied the girl, “and for the uppers you ought to +take the cheek of the man who said it.” +</p> + +<h2>Not Just the Right Place</h2> + +<p> +A bashful young couple, who were evidently very much in love, entered a crowded +street car. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you suppose we can squeeze in here?” he asked, looking +doubtfully at her blushing face. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t you think, dear, we had better wait until we get +home?” was the low, embarrassed reply. +</p> + +<h2>What Else Could He Be?</h2> + +<p> +There is a man who is the head of a large family, nearly every member of which +is a performer on some kind of musical instrument. +</p> + +<p> +A friend who was visiting the house of this man referred to the fact, remarking +that it must be a source of great pleasure to the family, but to this +observation the father made no reply. +</p> + +<p> +“Really,” continued the friend, “it is remarkable. Your +younger son is a cornetist, both your daughters are pianists, your wife is a +violinist, and, I understand, the others are also musicians. Now what are you, +the father of such a musical combination?” +</p> + +<p> +“I,” replied the old man sadly—“I am a +pessimist.” +</p> + +<h2>He Had to Stand Up</h2> + +<p> +An American doctor built an elegant home, says the “San Francisco +Chronicle”; his bathroom was exceptionally beautiful, being of white +marble with silver hardware; a music-box was concealed in the room. After +completion of the home an Englishman came to visit the doctor. Now the English +always show great respect for their sovereign and their country, and this one +was no exception. +</p> + +<p> +After showing his home to the Englishman the doctor remembered the fondness +English people have for the bath, and escorted his guest to the bathroom, and +while there turned on the music-box, wishing to give his guest a pleasant +surprise as he bathed. Then he left his friend in the bathroom. +</p> + +<p> +About an hour later the Englishman joined his host in the drawing-room. The +doctor immediately asked what his guest thought of the bathroom. The Englishman +replied: “It is beautiful, beautiful.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said the doctor, “how did you like my +music-box?” +</p> + +<p> +Said his guest with great disgust in his tones: +</p> + +<p> +“Bah! That music-box! The old thing played ‘God Save the +King,’ and I had to stand up the whole time I was trying to bathe.” +</p> + +<h2>His Heartbreaking Task</h2> + +<p> +“Darling,” said the bride, “I had a terrible feeling of +sadness come over me this afternoon—a sort of feeling that you were doing +something that would break my heart if I knew of it. Think, sweet, what were +you doing, now, this afternoon at four o’clock?” +</p> + +<p> +“Dearest,” replied the husband tenderly and reassuringly, “at +that hour I was licking stamps and pasting them on envelopes.” +</p> + +<h2>Easily Accounted For</h2> + +<p> +An Irishman, upon arriving in America, was asked his name at Ellis Island. He +gave it. +</p> + +<p> +“Speak louder,” said the officer. +</p> + +<p> +He repeated it. +</p> + +<p> +“Louder,” again said the officer; “why, man, your voice is as +soft as a woman’s!” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said Pat, “that might be. Me mother was a +woman.” +</p> + +<h2>The Retort Courteous!</h2> + +<p> +A merry party being gathered in a city flat made such a racket that the +occupant of a neighboring apartment sent his servant down with a polite message +asking if it would be possible for the party to make less noise, since, as the +servant announced, “Mr. Smith says that he cannot read.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am very sorry for Mr. Smith,” replied the host. “Please +present my compliments to your master, say that I am sorry he cannot read, and +tell him I could when I was four years old!” +</p> + +<h2>When He Left</h2> + +<p> +A prominent man called to condole with a lady on the death of her husband, and +concluded by saying, “Did he leave you much?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nearly every night,” was the reply. +</p> + +<h2>A Popular Store</h2> + +<p> +The salesman in a large department store wore a troubled look. “You must +be severely tried,” said a man standing by. “There are all sorts +and conditions of people in the world,” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, there are,” said the salesman, “and they’re all +here, too!” +</p> + +<h2>He Couldn’t Bend</h2> + +<p> +A young man engaged board and lodging in a private family who were extremely +devout. Before each meal a long grace was said. To their dismay and horror the +new boarder sat bolt upright while the others at table reverently bowed their +heads. When the second day passed and the young man evinced no disposition to +unbend, the good lady of the house could endure the situation no longer. +</p> + +<p> +“Atheism?” asked she sharply. +</p> + +<p> +“No, madam,” humbly responded the new boarder; “boil.” +</p> + +<h2>Really, All the Same</h2> + +<p> +As the railroad train was stopping an old lady, not accustomed to traveling, +hailed the passing conductor and asked: +</p> + +<p> +“Conductor, what door shall I get out by?” +</p> + +<p> +“Either door, ma’am,” graciously answered the conductor. +“The car stops at both ends.” +</p> + +<h2>He Had a Good Excuse</h2> + +<p> +“Good-morning, Mrs. Stubbins,” said the parson; “is your +husband at home?” +</p> + +<p> +“’E’s ’ome, sir, but ’e’s abed,” +replied Mrs. Stubbins, who had just finished hanging a pair of recently-patched +trousers on the clothesline. +</p> + +<p> +“How is it he didn’t come to church on Sunday? You know we must +have our hearts in the right place.” +</p> + +<p> +“Lor’, sir,” retorted the faithful wife, “’is +’eart’s all right. It’s ’is trouziz!” +</p> + +<h2>One of Lincoln’s Little Notes</h2> + +<p> +President Lincoln once wrote to General McClellan, when the latter was in +command of the army. General McClellan, as is well known, conducted a waiting +campaign, being so careful not to make any mistakes that he made very little +headway. President Lincoln sent this brief but exceedingly pertinent letter: +</p> + +<p> +“<i>My Dear McClellan:</i> If you don’t want to use the army I +should like to borrow it for a while.” +</p> + +<p class="right"> +“Yours respectfully,<br/> +A. L<small>INCOLN</small>.” +</p> + +<h2>Fair Play</h2> + +<p> +A group of drummers were trading yarns on the subject of hospitality, says +“Lippincott’s Magazine,” when one of them took up his parable +thus: +</p> + +<p> +“I was down in Louisiana last month travelin’ cross country when we +kinder got lost in a lonesome sort of road just about dark, and when we saw a +light ahead I tell you it looked first rate. We drove up to the light, +findin’ ’twas a house, and when I hollered the man came out and we +asked him to take us in for the night. He looked at us mighty hard, then said, +‘Wall, I reckon I kin stand it if you kin.’ +</p> + +<p> +“So we unhitched, went in, and found ’twas only a two-room shanty +and just swarmin’ with children. He had six from four to ’leven +years old, and as there didn’t seem to be but one bed, me an’ Stony +was wonderin’ what in thunder would become of us. +</p> + +<p> +“They gave us supper, and then the old woman put the two youngest kids to +bed. They went straight to sleep. Then she took those out, laid them over in +the corner, put the next two to bed, and so on. After all the children were +asleep on the floor the old folks went in the other room and told us we could +go to bed if we wanted to, and, bein’ powerful tired out, we did. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, sir, the next morning when we woke up we was lying over in the +corner with the kids, and the old man and the old woman had the bed!” +</p> + +<h2>Cold Comfort That</h2> + +<p> +A country minister who lived quite a distance from his church was overtaken on +the way over one Sunday morning by a heavy shower. The rain poured in torrents, +and by the time he arrived at the church he was almost drenched. Shaking the +water from his hat and coat he remarked: +</p> + +<p> +“Really, friends, I am almost too wet to preach.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, never mind,” replied one of his congregation; +“you’ll be dry enough in the pulpit!” +</p> + +<h2>A “Billet-Doux”</h2> + +<p class="poem"> + She was a winsome country lass,<br/> + So William on a brief vacation,<br/> + The time more pleasantly to pass,<br/> + Essayed flirtation.<br/> + And while they strolled in twilight dim,<br/> + As near the time for parting drew,<br/> + Asked if she would have from him<br/> + A “billet-doux.”<br/> + Now this simple maid of French knew naught,<br/> + But doubting not ’twas something nice,<br/> + Shyly she lifted her pretty head,<br/> + Her rosy lips together drew, and coyly said,<br/> + “Yes, Billy—do,”<br/> + And William—did. +</p> + +<h2>When Pat Laughed Last</h2> + +<p> +A short time ago two Englishmen on a visit to Ireland hired a boat for the +purpose of having a sail. +</p> + +<p> +One of the Britons, thinking he would have a good joke at Pat’s expense, +asked him if he knew anything about astrology. +</p> + +<p> +“Be jabers, no,” said Pat. +</p> + +<p> +“Then that’s the best part of your life just lost,” answered +the Englishman. +</p> + +<p> +The second Englishman then asked Pat if he knew anything about theology. +</p> + +<p> +“Be jabers, no,” answered Pat. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” the second said, “I must say that’s the very +best part of your life lost.” +</p> + +<p> +A few minutes later a sudden squall arose and the boat capsized. Pat began to +swim. The Britons, however, could not swim, and both called loudly to Pat to +help them. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you know anything about swimology?” asked Pat. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” answered both Englishmen. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, be jabers,” replied Pat, “then both of your lives is +lost!” +</p> + +<h2>Could Eat, but Couldn’t See</h2> + +<p> +A farmer who went to a large city to see the sights engaged a room at a hotel, +and before retiring asked the clerk about the hours for dining. +</p> + +<p> +“We have breakfast from six to eleven, dinner from eleven to three, and +supper from three to eight,” explained the clerk. +</p> + +<p> +“Wa-al, say,” inquired the farmer in surprise, “what time air +I goin’ ter git ter see the town?” +</p> + +<h2>How She Got It</h2> + +<p> +A little girl was sent by her mother to the grocery store with a jug for a +quart of vinegar. +</p> + +<p> +“But, mamma,” said the little one, “I can’t say that +word.” +</p> + +<p> +“But you must try,” said the mother, “for I must have vinegar +and there’s no one else to send.” +</p> + +<p> +So the little girl went with the jug, and as she reached the counter of the +store she pulled the cork out of the jug with a pop, swung the jug on the +counter with a thud, and said to the astonished clerk: +</p> + +<p> +“There! Smell of that and give me a quart!” +</p> + +<h2>What the “Grip” Is</h2> + +<p> +Asked what made him look so ill, an Irishman replied, “Faith, I had the +grip last winter.” To draw him out the questioner asked, “What is +the grip, Patrick?” +</p> + +<p> +“The grip!” he says. “Don’t you know what the grip is? +It’s a disease that makes you sick six months after you get well!” +</p> + +<h2>Wouldn’t Have Been Strange</h2> + +<p> +Two women were strangers to each other at a reception. After a few +moments’ desultory talk the first said rather querulously: +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know what’s the matter with that tall, blond +gentleman over there. He was so attentive a while ago, but he won’t look +at me now.” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps,” said the other, “he saw me come in. He’s my +husband.” +</p> + +<h2>A Place for Jeremiah</h2> + +<p> +A certain prosy preacher recently gave an endless discourse on the prophets. +First he dwelt at length on the minor prophets. At last he finished them, and +the congregation gave a sigh of relief. He took a long breath and continued: +“Now I shall proceed to the major prophets.” +</p> + +<p> +After the major prophets had received more than ample attention the +congregation gave another sigh of relief. +</p> + +<p> +“Now that I have finished with the minor prophets and the major prophets, +what about Jeremiah? Where is Jeremiah’s place?” +</p> + +<p> +At this point a tall man arose in the back of the church. “Jeremiah can +have my place,” he said; “I’m going home.” +</p> + +<h2>The One Thing He Wanted</h2> + +<p> +After waiting the usual five or ten minutes the new arrival was served with the +first dinner course of soup. Hesitating a moment as he glanced at his plate, +the guest said to the waiter: +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t eat this soup.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll bring you another kind, sir,” said the waiter as he +took it away. +</p> + +<p> +“Neither can I eat this soup!” said the guest a trifle more +emphatically, when the second plate was served. +</p> + +<p> +The waiter, angrily but silently, for the third time brought a plate of soup. +</p> + +<p> +“I simply can’t eat this soup!” once more said the guest, in +a low, emphatic tone. +</p> + +<p> +By this time the waiter was furious and called the hotel proprietor, while the +guests at the nearby table looked over that way with curious glances. +</p> + +<p> +“Really, sir, this is unusual. May I ask why can’t you eat any of +our soups?” demanded the proprietor. +</p> + +<p> +“Because I have no spoon,” replied the guest quietly. +</p> + +<h2>Why He Would Like It</h2> + +<p> +The little son of the minister, at Sunday dinner, said at the family table: +</p> + +<p> +“Father, I wish I could be ‘a doorkeeper in the House of the +Lord,’ as you said this morning.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed,” said the minister-father, with a pleased look across the +table at his wife. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said the boy, “for then I wouldn’t have to +listen to the sermon.” +</p> + +<h2>Why Mr. Duffy’s Nose was Red</h2> + +<p> +The late Mr. Duffy, of Keene, New Hampshire, says “The Boston +Herald,” was well known for his life-long total abstinence from +intoxicants, which seemed somewhat at variance with the fact that his nose was +very red. +</p> + +<p> +On one occasion, when on business in a liquor saloon in his neighborhood, a +drummer came in to sell cigars. To gain the good graces of the bartender he +invited all in the place to drink, to which invitation all readily responded +save Mr. Duffy. +</p> + +<p> +The drummer went to him, and slapping him on the shoulder, said: “I say, +old man, what are you going to have?” +</p> + +<p> +“I thank you, sir-r, but I niver dhrink,” was Duffy’s quiet +reply. +</p> + +<p> +“What, you never drink?” said the drummer with a sarcastic laugh. +“Now, if you never drink, will you please tell me what makes that nose of +yours so red?” +</p> + +<p> +The impertinence of the questioner at once aroused the irascibility of the old +gentleman, and he replied: “Sir-r, it is glowing with proid because it is +kept out of other people’s business.” +</p> + +<h2>Why He Knew</h2> + +<p> +A prominent Judge, who was an enthusiastic golfer, had occasion to question a +boy witness in a criminal suit. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, my boy,” said the Judge, “are you sure that you know +the nature and significance of an oath—that is, what an oath really +means?” +</p> + +<p> +The boy looked up at the Judge in surprise, and then answered: +</p> + +<p> +“Why, of course I do, Judge. Don’t I caddy for you at the +Country Club?” +</p> + +<h2>Her Idea of Remembrance</h2> + +<p> +Two negroes were talking about a recent funeral of a member of their race, at +which funeral there had been a profusion of floral tributes. Said the cook: +</p> + +<p> +“Dat’s all very well, Mandy; but when I dies I don’t want no +flowers on my grave. Jes plant a good old watermelon-vine; an’ when she +gits ripe you come dar, an’ don’t you eat it, but jes bus’ it +on de grave, an’ let de good old juice dribble down thro’ de +ground!” +</p> + +<h2>Did He Win Her?</h2> + +<p> +Conversation lagged for a moment, according to a “Life” story, +then, as he sipped his tea, he remarked quietly, but with a meaning emphasis, +“You are to be married.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mercy me! To whom?” was the startled reply. +</p> + +<p> +“To me; I came today on purpose to tell you.” +</p> + +<h2>The Dog wasn’t Touched</h2> + +<p> +“Madam,” said the conductor as he punched a ticket, “I am +very sorry, but you can’t have your dog in this car. It is against the +rules.” +</p> + +<p> +“I shall hold him in my lap all the way,” she replied, “and +he will not disturb any one.” +</p> + +<p> +“That makes no difference,” said the conductor. “Dogs must +ride in the baggage-car. I’ll take and fasten him for you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t you touch my dog, sir,” exclaimed the young lady +excitedly. “I will trust him to no one,” and with indignant tread +she marched to the baggage-car, tied her dog and said: “Remember, please, +I don’t want a soul here to touch my dog or untie him: you +understand?” +</p> + +<p> +The baggage crew said they did. +</p> + +<p> +As the train approached her station the young lady, hailing the conductor, +asked: “Is my dog all right?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know, miss,” replied the conductor. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t know?” she replied. “Why don’t you know? +It’s your business to know. You haven’t touched him or untied +him?” +</p> + +<p> +“No; we didn’t touch or untie him, and that’s just it. You +tied him to a trunk checked for two stations back. The trunk had to be put off, +and so we threw the dog off with the trunk!” +</p> + +<h2>Not the Kind She Wanted</h2> + +<p> +“Which way, please, to the corset department?” she asked of the +floor-walker. +</p> + +<p> +“Straight back, madam.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, not straight back,” was the reply. “I want a straight +front.” +</p> + +<h2>His Last Request</h2> + +<p> +JUDGE (to prisoner just condemned to death): “You have the legal right to +express a last wish, and if it is possible it will be granted,” +</p> + +<p> +PRISONER (a barber): “I should like just once more to be allowed to shave +the District Attorney.” +</p> + +<h2>Why He Really Wanted to Go</h2> + +<p> +“Would you mind if I went into the smoking-car, dear?” asked the +bridegroom in a tender voice. +</p> + +<p> +“What! to smoke, sweetheart?” questioned the bride. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, dear, no,” replied the young husband; “I want to +experience the agony of being away from you, so that the joy of my return will +be all the more intensified.” +</p> + +<h2>No End to This Game for Two</h2> + +<p class="poem"> + Said He: “It is sweeter to give than receive.<br/> + Of a whipping this doubtless is true,<br/> + But of kissing I cannot believe<br/> + It holds good, till I’ve tried it. Can you?”<br/> + Said She; “I don’t know; let’s each give and receive,<br/> + And so come to proof of the prop.<br/> + Now you give, and I’ll take, and we’ll leave<br/> + The one to decide who cries ‘Stop!’” +</p> + +<h2>And This in Boston!</h2> + +<p> +A man who has just returned from Boston is “chortling” over a good +joke on that correct and literary city. He says that in the reading-room of one +of the most exclusive clubs in the Hub there is a sign that reads: +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +ONLY LOW CONVERSATION PERMITTED HERE +</p> + +<h2>Man Wants but Little, etc.</h2> + +<p> +“Please, mum,” said a tramp, “would you be so kind as to let +me have a needle and thread?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, y-e-s,” said the housewife at the door, “I can let you +have that.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thankee, mum. Now, you’d oblige me very much if you’d let me +have a bit of cloth for a patch.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, here is some.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thankee very much, mum. It’s a little different color from my +suit, I see. Perhaps, mum, you could spare me some of your husband’s old +clothes that this patch will match.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I declare! You’re clever, my man, and I’ll give you an +old suit. Here is one.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thankee greatly, mum. I see it’s a little large, mum, but if +you’ll kindly furnish me with a square meal, mebby I can fill it +out.” +</p> + +<h2>It Certainly Tickled Them</h2> + +<p> +An amateur artist contributed a painting to the academy for the first time. +With natural curiosity he said to the carrier, “Did you see my picture +safely delivered?” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed I did,” replied the man, “and mighty pleased they +seemed to be with it—leastways, if I may jedge, sir. They didn’t +say nothin’, but, Lor’! how they did laugh when they got a light on +it!” +</p> + +<h2>Cured Without Medicine</h2> + +<p> +A clergyman has had in his employ for so long a time a colored man named Julian +that the latter has come to regard himself as something of a confidential +adviser to the divine. +</p> + +<p> +Early one Sunday morning the pastor awoke feeling decidedly ill. After a futile +attempt at breakfast, he summoned his old and faithful servitor, saying: +</p> + +<p> +“Julian, I want you to go to my assistant, and tell him that, as I am +unwell, he will officiate for me in this morning’s service.” +</p> + +<p> +At this Julian demurred, and, after some argument, persuaded his master that he +would feel better if he officiated as usual. This the latter did, and, as +predicted by the servant, he did return home feeling much better. +</p> + +<p> +“Youse better, sah?” asked the man, meeting his master at the +door. +</p> + +<p> +“Very much better, thank you, Julian.” +</p> + +<p> +The servant grinned. “What did I tell you, sah? I knowed you’d be +all right jest as soon as you got that sermon outer your system.” +</p> + +<h2>Enthusiasm Squelched</h2> + +<p> +An enthusiastic citizen, about to visit Europe, was rejoicing over the fact and +the pleasures to come. +</p> + +<p> +“How delightful it will be,” he said to his wife, “to tread +the bounding billow and inhale the invigorating oxygen of the sea, the sea, the +boundless sea! I long to see it! To breathe in great drafts of life-giving air. +I shall want to stand every moment on the prow of the steamer with my mouth +open——” +</p> + +<p> +“You probably will, dear,” interrupted his wife encouragingly. +“That’s the way all the ocean travelers do.” +</p> + +<h2>Definitive</h2> + +<p> +The schoolmaster was trying to explain the meaning of the word +“conceited,” which had occurred in the course of the reading +lesson. “Now, boys,” he said, “suppose that I was always +boasting of my learning—that I knew a good deal o’ Latin, for +instance, or that my personal appearance was—that I was very +good-looking, y’ know—what should you say I was?” +</p> + +<p> +Straightforward Boy: “Sure, sir, I’d say you was a liar, +sir!” +</p> + +<h2>Wanted to Give Her Every Chance</h2> + +<p> +The clerk was most obliging, but the young woman customer was hard to please. +Roll after roll of blankets did he patiently take down and show to her; nothing +suited. +</p> + +<p> +For some fifteen minutes this mock sale went on, then the young woman said +condescendingly, “Well, I don’t intend to buy. I was just looking +for a friend.” +</p> + +<p> +“Wait a moment, madam,” cried the clerk. “There is one more +blanket left on the shelf. Maybe you will find your friend in it.” +</p> + +<h2>Murder Will Out</h2> + +<p> +The newly-graduated daughter who had decided to become an artist had returned +to her Boston home. “I am glad that your mind has taken a turn toward +art, for you know that more is expected of you now than if you lived in +Chicago,” said her proud parent. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Father,” she replied dutifully, with downcast eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“And I hope that you will distinguish yourself in more than one +way.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Father.” +</p> + +<p> +“I particularly desire that you become noted as an essayist also,” +continued the ambitious parent. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Father,” was the still modest reply. +</p> + +<p> +“I have spared neither pains nor expense in your education thus far, but +notwithstanding this immense outlay of time and money, if you can think of +anything which you believe will add to your equipment for the career which you +are about to begin—if you can suggest some other way of refining your +taste, please do so. Do you know of anything else, my dear?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Father,” and this time the downcast eyes were raised and +looked hopefully into his. +</p> + +<p> +“Speak out; never mind the expense.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, Father, I’d like to go this afternoon and see Sullivan thump +that yap from the country.” +</p> + +<h2>Taking Mamma at Her Word</h2> + +<p> +MOTHER: “Ethel, you naughty child, what have you been doing to make +Charlie cry so?” +</p> + +<p> +ETHEL: “I’ve only been sharing my cod-liver oil with him, mamma. +You said it was so nice.” +</p> + +<h2>It Was Worse Than Bigotry</h2> + +<p> +A prisoner was brought before a police magistrate. He looked around and +discovered that his clerk was absent. “Here, officer,” he said, +“what’s this man charged with?” +</p> + +<p> +“Bigotry, your Honor,” replied the policeman. “He’s got +three wives.” +</p> + +<p> +The magistrate looked at the officer as though astounded at such ignorance. +“Why, officer,” he said, “that’s not +bigotry—that’s trigonometry.” +</p> + +<h2>A Devotional Turn of Mind</h2> + +<p> +As the new minister of the village was on his way to evening service he met a +rising young man of the place whom he was anxious to have become an active +member of the church. +</p> + +<p> +“Good-evening, my young friend,” he said solemnly; “do you +ever attend a place of worship?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, indeed, sir; regularly, every Sunday night,” replied the +young fellow with a smile. “I’m on my way to see her now.” +</p> + +<h2>Poor Little Chap!</h2> + +<p> +A little boy from the slums had been taken out into the country for the first +time. After a bit he was found sitting, all by himself, on a high bank, and +gazing wistfully out over the hills. +</p> + +<p> +The woman who had made the little excursion possible quietly seated herself at +the youngster’s side. To her the child turned a radiant face and asked: +</p> + +<p> +“Say, it’s dern pretty, ain’t it? Is this all in the United +States?” +</p> + +<h2>The Horse Had a Habit</h2> + +<p> +At an annual series of races “for all comers,” the sun was blazing +down on a field of hot, excited horses and men, all waiting for a tall, +raw-boned beast to yield to the importunities of the starter and get into line. +</p> + +<p> +The patience of the starter was nearly exhausted. “Bring up that +horse!” he shouted. “Bring him up!” +</p> + +<p> +The rider of the refractory beast, a youthful Irishman, yelled back; “I +can’t! This here’s been a cab-horse, and he won’t start till +he hears the door shut, an’ I ain’t got no door!” +</p> + +<h2>She Won Her Uncle</h2> + +<p> +Uncle Harry was a bachelor and not fond of babies. Even winsome four-year-old +Helen failed to win his heart. Every one made too much fuss over the youngster, +Uncle Harry declared. +</p> + +<p> +One day Helen’s mother was called downstairs and with fear and trembling +asked Uncle Harry, who was stretched out on a sofa, if he would keep his eye on +Helen. Uncle Harry grunted “Yes,” but never stirred from his +position—in truth his eyes were tight shut. +</p> + +<p> +By-and-by wee Helen tiptoed over to the sofa and leaning over Uncle Harry +softly inquired: +</p> + +<p> +“Feepy?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” growled Uncle Harry. +</p> + +<p> +“Tired?” ventured Helen. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said her uncle. +</p> + +<p> +“Sick?” further inquired Helen, with real sympathy in her voice. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” still insisted Uncle Harry. +</p> + +<p> +“Dus’ feel bum, hey?” +</p> + +<p> +And that won the uncle! +</p> + +<h2>Still He Wondered</h2> + +<p> +One of the physicians at a popular winter health-resort was looking over his +books one day, comparing his list of patients. “I had a great many more +patients last year than I have this,” he remarked to his wife. “I +wonder where they have all gone to?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, never mind, dear,” she replied. “You know all we can +do is to hope for the best.” +</p> + +<h2>A Lesson In It</h2> + +<p> +“The trouble with you ladies of the W.C.T.U. is,” said a man to a +member of that organization, “that instead of opposing the christening of +a vessel with champagne, you ought to encourage it and draw from it a great +temperance lesson.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, how can we?” asked the “white ribboner.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” was the reply, “after the first taste of wine the +ship takes to water and sticks to it ever after.” +</p> + +<h2>It Was His Privilege</h2> + +<p> +As an express train was going through a station, says “Tit-Bits,” +one of the passengers leaned too far out of the window, overbalanced and fell +out. He fortunately landed on a sand heap, so that he did himself no great +injury, but, with torn clothes and not a few bruises, said to a porter who was +standing by: +</p> + +<p> +“What shall I do?” +</p> + +<p> +“You’re all right, mister,” said the porter. “Your +ticket allows you to stop off.” +</p> + +<h2>Still Hopeful</h2> + +<p> +“Well, Jimmy,” said his employer, “I don’t see how you +are going to get out to any ball-games this season; your grandmother died four +times last summer.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes, I can, sir,” answered Jimmy. “Grandpapa has married +again, although it was very much against the wishes of the family.” +</p> + +<h2>He Thought She Ought to Know It</h2> + +<p> +“No, I haven’t anything for you today. You are the man I gave some +pie to a fortnight ago?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yis, lidy, thank you; I come back because I thought p’r’aps +you’d like to know I’m able to get about again.” +</p> + +<h2>A Possible Substitute</h2> + +<p> +“What have you in the shape of cucumbers this morning?” asked the +customer of the new grocery clerk. +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing but bananas, ma’am,” was the reply. +</p> + +<h2>One on the Preachers</h2> + +<p> +The preachers in a certain coast town noted for its Sabbath observance were +greatly incensed over the fact that printed cards bearing the name of a +well-known shipbuilding firm had been received by prominent citizens, inviting +them to attend the launching of a vessel on the next Sunday afternoon, the +reason being given that the tide was highest on that day. +</p> + +<p> +Sunday came and in every church the launching was widely advertised and +denounced, and it was not until late in the day that some one remembered it was +April the first. +</p> + +<h2>Charlie Remembered Her Well</h2> + +<p> +A young married woman of social prominence and respectability was to unite with +the church in her home town and desired the ordinance of baptism by immersion, +preferring the primitive custom of going to the river. Among the number that +gathered to witness the baptism was a little boy friend, Charlie, about four +years old. The proceedings were entirely new to the child, and he looked on +with strange curiosity as the candidate was led into the water. The spring +freshets had made the river somewhat turbulent, and it was with difficulty that +the minister maintained his footing. During the following week the young woman +called at the home of this family, and after the usual greetings said to the +little boy as she extended her hand: “Come here, Charlie, and see me. You +don’t know who I am, do you?” she continued. “Yes, indeed I +do,” said the boy. “You’s that woman who went in +swimmin’ with the minister on Sunday.” +</p> + +<h2>Couldn’t Follow Him</h2> + +<p> +“John,” said Farmer Foddershucks to his college-bred son, who was +home on a vacation, “hev ye noticed Si Mullet’s oldest gal lately? +Strikes me she’s gettin’ ter be a right likely critter, hey?” +</p> + +<p> +“She’s as beautiful as Hebe,” agreed John enthusiastically. +</p> + +<p> +“Aw, shucks!” grunted Farmer F. “She’s a blame sight +purtier ’n he be. Why, he ain’t no beauty. She gits it f’m +her mother’s folks.” +</p> + +<h2>Frivolity of Outward Show</h2> + +<p> +Dear old Aunt Jane was making a visit in the early spring at the home of her +newly-married niece, and spring clothes was the all-absorbing topic of +conversation in the family. +</p> + +<p> +“I feel sure this hat’s not broad enough in the brim, Aunt +Jane,” said the worldly niece, who wanted to appear just as bewitching to +her young husband as she did in her going-away costume. +</p> + +<p> +“What does it matter, child! Look at me!” replied Aunt Jane, in a +comforting tone. “I put on anything! Don’t I look all right?” +</p> + +<h2>Just as Well</h2> + +<p> +A Scotsman went to a dentist with a toothache. The dentist told him he would +only get relief by having it out. +</p> + +<p> +“Then I must hae gas,” said the Scotsman. +</p> + +<p> +While the dentist was getting it ready the Scot began to count his money. +</p> + +<p> +The dentist said, somewhat testily, “You need not pay until the tooth is +out.” +</p> + +<p> +“I ken that,” said the Scotsman, “but as ye’re aboot to +mak’ me unconscious I jist want to see hoo I stan’.” +</p> + +<h2>The Same, Only a Little Different</h2> + +<p> +They were newly married, according to “The New York Sun,” and on a +honeymoon trip. They put up at a skyscraper hotel. The bridegroom felt +indisposed and the bride said she would slip out and do a little shopping. In +due time she returned and tripped blithely up to her room, a little awed by the +number of doors that looked all alike. But she was sure of her own and tapped +gently on the panel. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m back, honey; let me in,” she whispered. +</p> + +<p> +No answer. +</p> + +<p> +“Honey, honey, let me in!” she called again, rapping louder. Still +no answer. +</p> + +<p> +“Honey, honey, it’s Mabel. Let me in.” +</p> + +<p> +There was silence for several seconds; then a man’s voice, cold and full +of dignity, came from the other side of the door: +</p> + +<p> +“Madam, this is not a beehive; it’s a bathroom.” +</p> + +<h2>For Him to Decide</h2> + +<p> +“Well, well,” said the absent-minded professor, as he stood +knee-deep in the bathtub, “what did I get in here for?” +</p> + +<h2>A Large Corporation</h2> + +<p> +An old lady, traveling for the first time in a large city, saw a glaring sign +on the front of a high building which read, “The Smith Manufacturing +Company.” +</p> + +<p> +As she repeated it aloud slowly she remarked to her nephew: “Lawsy mercy! +Well, I’ve hearn tell of Smiths all my life, but I never knew before +where they made ’em.” +</p> + +<h2>Accommodating Man</h2> + +<p> +One day, after the brakeman had been pointing out the window and explaining the +scenery, says the Denver “News,” one of the passengers whispered to +the conductor: “Conductor, can you tell me how that brakeman lost his +finger? He seems to be a very nice fellow. It seems a pity he should be +crippled.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s just it, ma’am. He is a good fellow. He is so +obliging that he just wore his finger off pointing out the scenery along the +line.” +</p> + +<h2>The Early Bird</h2> + +<p> +The card “Boy Wanted” had been swinging from the window of a +publishing house only a few minutes when a red-headed little tad climbed to the +publisher’s office with the sign under his arm. +</p> + +<p> +“Say, mister,” he demanded of the publisher, “did youse hang +out this here ‘Boy Wanted’ sign?” +</p> + +<p> +“I did,” replied the publisher sternly. “Why did you tear it +down?” +</p> + +<p> +Back of his freckles the youngster was gazing in wonder at the man’s +stupidity. +</p> + +<p> +“Hully gee!” he blurted. “Why, I’m the boy!” +</p> + +<p> +And he was. +</p> + +<h2>No Wonder He Asked “Why?”</h2> + +<p> +Edward had just returned from foreign service, and his brow was troubled. +</p> + +<p> +“I gave you that parrot as a birthday present, did I not, Amelia?” +he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; but surely, Teddy, you are not going to speak of your tokens as +if——” +</p> + +<p> +“It was young and speechless at the time.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes”—with increasing wonder—“and it has never +been out of this parlor.” +</p> + +<p> +“There are no other young ladies in this house?” +</p> + +<p> +“No; there are not.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then why—why, when I k-kissed your photograph in yonder album, +while waiting for you, did that wretched bird imitate your voice and say: +‘Don’t do that, Herbert, please don’t!’” +</p> + +<h2>The Safest Place</h2> + +<p> +A city gentleman was recently invited down to the country for “a day with +the birds.” His aim was not remarkable for its accuracy, to the great +disgust of the man in attendance, whose tip was generally regulated by the size +of the bag. +</p> + +<p> +“Dear me!” at last exclaimed the sportsman, “but the birds +seem exceptionally strong on the wing this year.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not all of ’em, sir,” was the answer. “You’ve +shot at the same bird about a dozen times. ’E’s a-follerin’ +you about, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +“Following me about? Nonsense! Why should a bird do that?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, sir,” came the reply. “I dunno, I’m sure, unless +’e’s ’angin’ ’round you for safety.” +</p> + +<h2>An Inspiring Model</h2> + +<p> +Little Johnnie, having in his possession a couple of bantam hens, which laid +very small eggs, suddenly hit on a plan. Going the next morning to the +fowl-run, Johnnie’s father was surprised to find an ostrich egg tied to +one of the beams, and above it a card, with the words: +</p> + +<p> +“Keep your eye on this and do your best.” +</p> + +<h2>When the Honeymoon Began</h2> + +<p> +A minister in a Western town was called upon one afternoon to perform the +marriage ceremony between a negro couple—the negro preacher of the town +being absent from home. +</p> + +<p> +After the ceremony the groom asked the price of the service. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, well,” said the minister, “you can pay me whatever you +think it is worth to you.” +</p> + +<p> +The negro turned and silently looked his bride over from head to foot, then, +slowly rolling up the whites of his eyes, said: +</p> + +<p> +“Lawd, sah, you has done ruined me for life, you has, for sure.” +</p> + +<h2>And She Kept on Smoking</h2> + +<p> +“Aunt Chloe, do you think you are a Christian?” asked a preacher of +an old negro woman who was smoking a pipe. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, brudder, I ’spects I is.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you believe in the Bible?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, brudder.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you know there is a passage in the Scripture that declares that +nothing unclean shall inherit the Kingdom of Heaven?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I’se heard of it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, you smoke, and there is nothing so unclean as the breath of a +smoker. So what do you say to that?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, when I go dere I ’spects to leave my breff behind me.” +</p> + +<h2>Doubtful Assurances</h2> + +<p> +“Do you think they approved of my sermon?” asked the +newly-appointed rector, hopeful that he had made a good impression. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I think so,” replied his wife; “they were all +nodding.” +</p> + +<h2>A New Use for an Apple</h2> + +<p> +The tailor’s sign in a little inland town was an apple, simply an apple. +The people were amazed at it. They came in crowds to the tailor, asking him +what on earth the meaning of the sign was. +</p> + +<p> +The tailor with a complacent smile replied: +</p> + +<p> +“If it hadn’t been for an apple where would the clothing business +be today?” +</p> + +<h2>It Looked That Way</h2> + +<p> +“Is Mike Clancy here?” asked the visitor at the quarry, just after +the premature explosion. +</p> + +<p> +“No, sor,” replied Costigan; “he’s gone.” +</p> + +<p> +“For good?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, sor, he wint in that direction.” +</p> + +<h2>Music Touched His Heart</h2> + +<p> +A thief broke into a Madison Avenue mansion early the other morning and found +himself in the music-room. Hearing footsteps approaching, he took refuge behind +a screen. +</p> + +<p> +From eight to nine o’clock the eldest daughter had a singing lesson. +</p> + +<p> +From nine to ten o’clock the second daughter took a piano lesson. +</p> + +<p> +From ten to eleven o’clock the eldest son had a violin lesson. +</p> + +<p> +From eleven to twelve o’clock the other son had a lesson on the flute. +</p> + +<p> +At twelve-fifteen all the brothers and sisters assembled and studied an +ear-splitting piece for voice, piano, violin and flute. +</p> + +<p> +The thief staggered out from behind the screen at twelve-forty-five, and +falling at their feet, cried: +</p> + +<p> +“For Heaven’s sake, have me arrested!” +</p> + +<h2>Some Amusing Blunders</h2> + +<p> +A divine in drawing the attention of his congregation to a special communion +service on the following Sunday informed them that “the Lord is with us +in the forenoon and the Bishop in the evening.” +</p> + +<p> +A Scotch minister innocently, perhaps, hit the mark by telling his people, +“Weel, friends, the kirk is urgently in need of siller, and as we have +failed to get money honestly we will have to see what a bazar can do for +us.” +</p> + +<p> +There is a certain amount of excuse to be made for the young curate who, +remarking that some people came to church for no better reason than to show off +their best clothes, finished up as he glanced over his audience, “I am +thankful to see, dear friends, that none of you has come here for that +reason.” +</p> + +<p> +A negro student when conducting the prayers at one of the great missionary +colleges, said, “Give us all pure hearts, give us all clean hearts, give +us all sweet hearts,” to which the entire congregation made response, +“Amen.” +</p> + +<p> +The giving-out of church notices has often proved a pitfall for the unwary. +“During Lent,” said a rector lately, “several preachers will +preach on Wednesday evenings, but I need not give their names, as they will be +all found hanging up in the porch.” +</p> + +<h2>They Come High—But</h2> + +<p> +A stranger in New York asked a newsboy to direct him to a certain bank, +promising him half a dollar for it. The boy took him about three doors away and +there was the bank. Paying the fee, the man said, “That was half a dollar +easily earned, son.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sure,” said the boy, “but youse mustn’t fergit that +bank directors is paid high in Noo Yawk.” +</p> + +<h2>At Any Cost</h2> + +<p> +A darky preacher was lost in the happy selection of his text, which he repeated +in vigorous accents of pleading. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, bredern, at de las’ day dere’s gwine to be sheep and +dere’s gwine to be goats. Who’s gwine to be de sheep, an’ +who’s gwine to be de goats? Let’s all try to be like de li’l +white lambs, bredern. Shall we be de goats, sisters? Naw, we’s gwine to +be de sheep. Who’s gwine to be de sheep, bredern, an’ who’s +gwine to be de goats? Tak’ care ob youh souls, sisters; tak’ care +ob youh souls. Remember, dere’s gwine to be goats an’ sheep. +Who’s gwine to be de sheep an’ who’s gwine to be de +goats?” +</p> + +<p> +Just then a solitary Irishman who had been sitting in the back of the church, +listening attentively, rose and said: +</p> + +<p> +“Oi’ll be the goat. Go on; tell us the joke, Elder. Oi’ll be +the goat!” +</p> + +<h2>Where Was Bill?</h2> + +<p> +Bill Jones is a country storekeeper down in Louisiana, and last spring he went +to New Orleans to purchase a stock of goods. The goods were shipped immediately +and reached home before he did. When the boxes of goods were delivered at his +store by the drayman his wife happened to look at the largest; she uttered a +loud cry and called for a hammer. A neighbor, hearing the screams, rushed to +her assistance and asked what was the matter. The wife, pale and faint, pointed +to an inscription on the box which read as follows; +</p> + +<p> +“Bill inside.” +</p> + +<h2>All That Glisters is Not Gold</h2> + +<p> +One day an Irishman was seated in the waiting-room of a station with an odorous +pipe in his mouth. One of the attendants called his attention to the sign: +“No smoking.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said Pat, “I’m not a-smokin’.” +</p> + +<p> +“But you have a pipe in your mouth.” +</p> + +<p> +“Shure, an’ I’ve shoes on me feet an’ I’m not +walkin’.” +</p> + +<h2>Her Affectionate Brothers</h2> + +<p> +It was Commencement Day at a well-known girls’ seminary, and the father +of one of the young women came to attend the graduation exercises. He was +presented to the principal, who said, “I congratulate you, sir, upon your +extremely large and affectionate family.” +</p> + +<p> +“Large and affectionate?” he stammered and looking very much +surprised. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, indeed,” said the principal. “No less than twelve of +your daughter’s brothers have called frequently during the winter to take +her driving and sleighing, while your eldest son escorted her to the theatre at +least twice a week. Unusually nice brothers they are.” +</p> + +<h2>The Voice of the Lady</h2> + +<p> +“Life” recently printed this extremely clever sketch by Tom Masson: +</p> + +<p> +It was a quiet Sunday morning on a side street. A playful breeze had lifted off +the tarpaulin that covered the newsstand, and the magazines were enjoying a +quiet hour by themselves. +</p> + +<p> +“Harper’s” took occasion to edge away from +“McClure’s.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your cheapness makes me dizzy,” it observed, with a superior +sniff. +</p> + +<p> +“My cheapness is as nothing to your dullness,” exclaimed +“McClure’s,” with some heat. +</p> + +<p> +“Nonsense!” replied “Harper’s.” “Why, I +once published an interesting story.” +</p> + +<p> +A chorus of groans greeted this admission. +</p> + +<p> +“The trouble with you fellows,” observed “The Century,” +“is that you do not understand the really serious side of life.” +</p> + +<p> +“How can we,” observed “The Metropolitan,” “for +we have not, like you, a humorous department? We——” +</p> + +<p> +There was a commotion. While these observations were going on +“Munsey’s” and “Everybody’s” were having a +dispute. +</p> + +<p> +“I publish sillier stuff than you,” said +“Munsey’s.” +</p> + +<p> +“I defy you to prove it,” said “Everybody’s.” +</p> + +<p> +“Let’s form a ring and have them fight it out,” suggested a +rank outsider—“The Clipper.” +</p> + +<p> +At this, however, there was a protest from one hitherto silent. A soft soprano +voice spoke. +</p> + +<p> +“Gentlemen,” it said, “would you fight in the presence of +ladies?” +</p> + +<p> +Whereupon the rest of the magazines took off their hats, and one by one lapsed +into respectful silence, as T<small>HE</small> L<small>ADIES</small>’ +H<small>OME</small> J<small>OURNAL</small>, arranging its skirts anew with +gentle precision, passed out on its way to church. +</p> + +<h2>Cheer Up, Everybody</h2> + +<p> +The visiting missionary at an almshouse stopped for a moment to speak to a very +old lady and inquire after her health and welfare. “Thank you, +sir,” replied the old lady. “Yes, indeed, I’ve a great deal +to be thankful for. I’ve two teeth left and they’re opposite each +other.” +</p> + +<h2>A New Kind of Bait</h2> + +<p> +After weeks of waiting and longing for the sport, rods, reels, gaff, +creel—everything was in readiness for a week’s trout-fishing. +</p> + +<p> +The young wife, smiling joyously, hurried into the room, extending toward her +husband some sticky, speckled papers. +</p> + +<p> +“For goodness’ sake,” he exclaimed, “what on earth are +you doing with those old fly-papers?” +</p> + +<p> +“I saved them for you from last summer, dear,” she answered. +“You know you said you always had to buy flies when you went +fishing.” +</p> + +<h2>He Could Supply Specimens</h2> + +<p> +“And what did my little darling do in school today?” a mother asked +of her young son—a “second-grader.” +</p> + +<p> +“We had Nature study, and it was my turn to bring a specimen,” said +the boy. +</p> + +<p> +“That was nice. What did you do?” +</p> + +<p> +“I brought a cockroach in a bottle, and I told teacher we had lots more, +and if she wanted I would bring one every day.” +</p> + +<h2>Was It His Ghost?</h2> + +<p> +A well-known publisher has the entrance to his private office guarded by one of +his editors, a small man, who, as the day wears on, sinks down in a little heap +in his high-backed chair under the weight of the manuscripts he has to read. +The publisher was exceedingly proud of his friendship with a prominent +Congressman, who usually called when he was in New York. +</p> + +<p> +One day the huge form of the Speaker of the House of Representatives loomed up +before the little editor, with the evident intent of bearing down upon the +private office. +</p> + +<p> +“Back!” shouted the little editor, waving a slender arm with much +vigor. “Back! Go back to the offith and thend in your card.” +</p> + +<p> +The Congressman paused, inclined his head to view the obstacle that opposed his +progress, and smiled. Then he turned on his heel and did as he was directed. +</p> + +<p> +Of course the publisher bustled out personally to conduct the great man into +the private office. When his visitor had departed the publisher came forth in a +rage. The little editor shriveled before him as he began: +</p> + +<p> +“What do you mean by holding up one of my oldest friends in this fashion? +Don’t you know he’s at perfect liberty to walk into my office at +any time without so much as knocking?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yeth,” admitted the little editor feebly. +</p> + +<p> +“Then what do you mean by holding him up and subjecting him to such +discourtesy?” +</p> + +<p> +“I thought he wath Dr. John Hall.” +</p> + +<p> +“Dr. John Hall!” exclaimed the exasperated publisher +“Don’t you know that Dr. John Hall is dead?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yeth,” returned the little editor with earnest sincerity. +“That’th what bothered me.” +</p> + +<h2>Willie’s April Fool on Mamma!</h2> + +<p> +Little Willie had a very pretty governess, and on April first he rather +startled his mother by rushing in to her and saying: +</p> + +<p> +“Mamma, there’s a strange man upstairs who has just put his arm +around Miss Wilson’s waist, and kissed her several +times——” +</p> + +<p> +“What?” said the mother, as she jumped up to pull the bell for the +butler. +</p> + +<p> +“April fool, Mamma!” said Willie, in great glee. “It +wasn’t a strange man at all. It was Papa!” +</p> + +<h2>Full Particulars Given</h2> + +<p> +A small boy who had recently passed his fifth birthday was riding in a suburban +car with his mother, when they were asked the customary question, “How +old is the boy?” After being told the correct age, which did not require +a fare, the conductor passed on to the next person. +</p> + +<p> +The boy sat quite still as if pondering over some question, and then, +concluding that full information had not been given, called loudly to the +conductor, then at the other end of the car: “And mother’s +thirty-one!” +</p> + +<h2>News for the Bishop</h2> + +<p> +A newly-rich woman, who was anxious to make a favorable impression in her +neighborhood, decided to show her collection of antiques to the Bishop when he +called. The time came, and one by one she displayed the whole collection, +giving him the history of each piece. Finally she pointed to the most prized +article in the lot. “There,” she said, pointing impressively to an +old yellow teapot. “That teapot was used in the Boston Tea-party.” +</p> + +<h2>A Case of Mutual Application</h2> + +<p> +Mr. Wood, a man very fond of playing jokes, met his friend, Mr. Stone, and at +once inquired jocosely: +</p> + +<p> +“Hello, Stone, how are Mrs. Stone and all the little pebbles?” +</p> + +<p> +“Fine,” said Mr. Stone, “all well, thank you,” and +then, with a twinkle in his eye: “How are Mrs. Wood and all the little +splinters?” +</p> + +<h2>She Didn’t Sleep Well</h2> + +<p> +A woman who lives in an inland town, while going to a convention in a distant +city spent one night of the journey on board a steamboat. It was the first time +she had ever traveled by water. She reached her journey’s end extremely +fatigued. To a friend who remarked it she replied: +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I’m tired to death. I don’t know as I care to travel by +water again. I read the card in my stateroom about how to put the +life-preserver on, and I thought I understood it; but I guess I didn’t. +Somehow, I couldn’t go to sleep with the thing on.” +</p> + +<h2>They Planned a Little Surprise for Him</h2> + +<p> +On a west-bound train scheduled for a long trip a very large, muscular man fell +asleep and annoyed all the passengers by snoring tremendously. Reading, +conversation or quiet rest was an impossibility. Finally a drummer, carrying +half a lemon in his hand, tiptoed over to a little boy who sat behind the +snorer. +</p> + +<p> +“Son,” said the drummer impressively, “I am a doctor, and if +that man doesn’t stop snoring he’ll die of apoplexy. Watch your +chance, and as soon as his mouth opens a little wider, lean over and squeeze +this lemon into it.” +</p> + +<h2>He Knew Only One</h2> + +<p> +A teacher had been telling her class of boys that recently worms had become so +numerous that they destroyed the crops, and it was necessary to import the +English sparrow to exterminate them. The sparrows multiplied very fast and were +gradually driving away our native birds. +</p> + +<p> +Johnny was apparently very inattentive, and the teacher, thinking to catch him +napping, said; +</p> + +<p> +“Johnny, which is worse, to have worms or sparrows?” +</p> + +<p> +Johnny hesitated a moment and then replied: +</p> + +<p> +“Please, I never had the sparrows.” +</p> + +<h2>He Proved It Was Logical</h2> + +<p> +A lawyer was defending a man accused of housebreaking, and said to the court: +</p> + +<p> +“Your Honor, I submit that my client did not break into the house at all. +He found the parlor window open and merely inserted his right arm and removed a +few trifling articles. Now, my client’s arm is not himself, and I fail to +see how you can punish the whole individual for an offense committed by only +one of his limbs.” +</p> + +<p> +“That argument,” said the judge, “is very well put. Following +it logically, I sentence the defendant’s arm to one year’s +imprisonment. He can accompany it or not, as he chooses.” +</p> + +<p> +The defendant smiled, and with his lawyer’s assistance unscrewed his cork +arm, and, leaving it in the dock, walked out. +</p> + +<h2>The Old Man Knew Best</h2> + +<p> +“I took three bottles of your medicine, and I feel like a new +woman,” read the testimonial. “John,” she said in a shrill, +piping voice, “I think this is exactly what I need. I have been feeling +bad for quite a spell back, and the lady was symptomated just exactly as I +feel. I believe I will try three bottles and see if it will make a new woman +out of me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not much, Maria,” said John, with tremendous earnestness. +“Not if I know it. I don’t mind spending three dollars on you if +you feel bad, but I ain’t a-goin’ to have you made into any of +these here new women, gaddin’ about the city to women’s clubs and +savin’ the country that don’t need savin’. You jest mix up +some sulphur and molasses and take it, and you will feel better, but +don’t let me hear no more of this new-woman nonsense.” +</p> + +<h2>Watch and Pray</h2> + +<p> +A pompous old Bishop was one morning breakfasting at a country inn where it had +been his lot to spend the night. As he approached the table he found at his +place a fine trout well cooked and tempting. He closed his eyes to say his +grace before meat, not noticing a Quaker gentleman seated opposite, who, with a +mischievous smile, reached over quickly and scooped the fish over to his own +plate. +</p> + +<p> +Having finished his prayer the Bishop opened his eyes and prepared to enjoy the +trout, but to his surprise and dismay it had disappeared. +</p> + +<p> +The jolly Quaker, eying the Bishop, at the same time demolishing the trout, +said with feigned solemnity: +</p> + +<p> +“Bishop, thee must ‘watch and pray’—‘watch and +pray.’” +</p> + +<h2>No Doubt About That</h2> + +<p> +The fresh spring breezes were blowing through the open windows of the +schoolroom, and George Washington was the momentous question in hand. +</p> + +<p> +“Why do you think George Washington was the first man?” asked the +teacher. +</p> + +<p> +“Because he was ‘first in war, first in peace, and first in the +hearts of his countrymen.’” +</p> + +<p> +Another boy then raised his hand. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, Johnny, who do you think was the first man?” said the +teacher. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t know his name,” answered Johnny, “but I know +George Washington was not the first man, ’cause my history says he +married a widow, so there must have been a man ahead of him.” +</p> + +<h2>All’s Fair in Love</h2> + +<p> +A poor couple went to the priest for marriage, and were met with a demand for +the marriage fee. It was not forthcoming. Both the consenting parties were rich +in love and in their prospects, but destitute of financial resources. The +father was obdurate. “No money, no marriage.” +</p> + +<p> +“Give me l’ave, your riverence,” said the blushing bride, +“to go and get the money.” +</p> + +<p> +It was given, and she sped forth on the delicate mission of raising a marriage +fee out of pure nothing. After a short interval she returned with the sum of +money, and the ceremony was completed to the satisfaction of all. When the +parting was taking place the newly-made wife seemed a little uneasy. +</p> + +<p> +“Anything on your mind, Catherine?” said the father. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, your riverence, I would like to know if this marriage could not be +spoiled now.” +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly not, Catherine. No man can put you asunder.” +</p> + +<p> +“Could you not do it yourself, father? Could you not spoil the +marriage?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, no, Catherine. You are past me now. I have nothing more to do with +your marriage.” +</p> + +<p> +“That aises me mind,” said Catherine, “and God bless your +riverence. There’s the ticket for your hat. I picked it up in the lobby +and pawned it.” +</p> + +<h2>An Addition to the Catechism</h2> + +<p> +An enterprising superintendent was engaged one Sunday in catechizing the +Sunday-school pupils, varying the usual method by beginning at the end of the +catechism. +</p> + +<p> +After asking what were the prerequisites for the Holy Communion and +confirmation, and receiving satisfactory replies, he asked: +</p> + +<p> +“And now, boys, tell me what must precede baptism?” +</p> + +<p> +A lively urchin shouted out: “A baby, sir!” +</p> + +<h2>No Two Ways About It</h2> + +<p> +A colored preacher who had only a small share of this world’s goods, and +whose salary was not forthcoming on several occasions, became exasperated. At +his morning service he spoke to his church members thusly: +</p> + +<p> +“Bredern and sistern, things is not as should be. You must not +’spects I can preach on u’th an’ boa’d in Heben.” +</p> + +<h2>The Maid Knew a Thing or Two</h2> + +<p> +“Madam,” said the book-agent as the door was opened by a very +comely maid, “I am selling a new book on etiquette and deportment.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, you are,” she responded. “Go down there on the grass and +clean the mud off your feet.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes’m,” and he went. “As I was saying, +ma’am,” he continued as he again came to the door, “I am +sell——” +</p> + +<p> +“Take off your hat! Never address a strange lady at her door without +removing your hat.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes’m.” And off went the hat. “Now, then, as I was +saying——” +</p> + +<p> +“Take your hands out of your pockets. No gentleman ever carries his hands +there.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes’m,” and his hands clutched at his coat lapels. +“Now, ma’am, this work on eti——” +</p> + +<p> +“Throw out your cud. If a gentleman uses tobacco he is careful not to +disgust others by the habit.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes’m,” and the tobacco disappeared. “Now, +ma’am,” as he wiped his brow, “in calling your attention to +this valuable——” +</p> + +<p> +“Wait. Put that dirty handkerchief out of sight. I don’t want your +book. I am only the hired girl. You can come in, however, and talk with the +lady of the house. She called me a liar this morning and I think she needs +something of the kind.” +</p> + +<h2>Under Similar Conditions</h2> + +<p> +“Speaking of men falling in love and ardently pursuing the object of +their affections, you needn’t make fun of any one, John. You were bound +to have me, but you can’t say I ever ran after you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very true, Anastasia, the trap never runs after the rat, but it gathers +him in all the same.” +</p> + +<h2>His First Move</h2> + +<p> +A bashful cowboy, returning from the plains to civilized society after an +absence of several years, fell desperately in love at first sight with a pretty +young girl whom he met at a party. +</p> + +<p> +On leaving the house that evening the young lady forgot her overshoes, and the +hostess, who had noticed the Westerner’s infatuation, told the young +Lochinvar that he might return them to the girl if he wished. The herder leaped +at the chance and presented himself in due time at the young lady’s +house. She greeted him cordially. +</p> + +<p> +“You forgot your overshoes last night,” he said, awkwardly handing +her the package. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, there’s only one overshoe here!” she exclaimed, as she +thanked him and opened it. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Miss,” said he, blushing. “I’ll bring the other +one tomorrow. Oh, how I wish that you were a centipede!” And with that he +turned and sped away down the street. +</p> + +<h2>His “Catch” Was Delayed</h2> + +<p> +Tommy went fishing the other day without his mother’s permission. The +next morning one of his chums met him and asked: “Did you catch anything +yesterday, Tommy?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not till I got home,” was the rather sad response. +</p> + +<h2>Using His Friends</h2> + +<p> +A visitor from New York to the suburbs said to his host during the afternoon: +</p> + +<p> +“By-the-way, your front gate needs repairing. It was all I could do to +get it open. You ought to have it trimmed or greased or something.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, no,” replied the owner, “oh, no, that’s all +right.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why is it?” asked the visitor. +</p> + +<p> +“Because,” was the reply, “every one who comes through that +gate pumps two buckets of water into the tank on the roof.” +</p> + +<h2>He Did—After That</h2> + +<p> +A young man who persisted in whispering loudly to the lady who accompanied him +to a symphony concert, telling her what the music “meant,” what +sort of a passage was coming next, and so on, caused serious annoyance to every +one of his immediate neighbors. Presently he closed his eyes and said to his +companion: +</p> + +<p> +“Did you ever try listening to music with your eyes shut? You’ve no +idea how lovely it sounds!” +</p> + +<p> +Thereupon a gentleman who sat in the seat in front of the young man twisted +himself about and said gravely: +</p> + +<p> +“Young man, did you ever try listening to music with your mouth +shut?” +</p> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12836 ***</div> +</body> + +</html> + + + |