This place has changed feet.
* * * * *
Speaking of cold storage eggs, a correspondent sends in a story that may
be new to some readers; at any rate it sounds plausible. A middle-aged
bachelor was in a restaurant at breakfast, when he noticed this
inscription on the egg—
To Whom it May Concern—Should this meet the eye of some young man who
desires to marry a farmer’s daughter, 18 years of age, kindly communicate
with ⸺, Sparta, N. J.
After reading this, he made haste to write to the girl, offering
marriage, and in a few days received this note—
Too late. I am married now and have four children.
* * * * *
Mr. Ananias came home one night and was received very icily by his wife.
He immediately assumed the defensive. It was not until after dinner that
he dared ask his wife what the trouble was. Trouble, said she, why when I
sent your suit to the tailor this morning I found this memorandum in your
pocket, “Gwendolyn, Lenox 1020.”
Why, said Ananias, of course you know what that means. That is a racing
tip. Gwendolyn is a horse, Lenox a jockey, and 1020 the racing odds. I am
going to the races tomorrow and will play Gwendolyn at one to two.
The wife admitted her suspicions and begged forgiveness for doubting the
fidelity of her beloved for one moment.
The next night Ananias came home very late from the races. Are you
asleep, he whispered to his wife who was in bed with her face to the
wall. No, she answered in distinct and hissing tones. You had better call
up Lenox 1020, your horse wants to speak to you.
* * * * *
Two men were waiting for a train and one said—I will ask you a question,
and if I can not answer my own question, I will buy the tickets. Then you
ask a question, and if you can not answer your own, you buy the tickets.
The other agreed to this. Well, the first man said, you see those
rabbit-holes? How do they dig those holes without leaving any dirt around
them? The other confessed—I don’t know. That’s your question, so answer
it yourself. The first man winked and replied—They begin at the bottom
and dig up! But, said the second man, how do they get at the bottom to
begin? That’s your question, was the first man’s rejoinder. Answer it
yourself. The other man bought the tickets.
* * * * *
Here is an incident that a Chanute man tells as having occurred in
a certain Kansas town. He was in the ticket office and watched the
proceedings.
A man came up to the window and asked for a ticket to Kansas City,
inquiring the price.
Two twenty-five, said the agent.
The man dug down into a well-worn pocketbook and fished out a bill. It
was a banknote for $2. It was also all the money he had.
How soon does this train go? he inquired.
In fifteen minutes, replied the agent.
The man hurried away. Soon he was back with three silver dollars, with
which he bought a ticket.
Pardon my curiosity, said the ticket seller, but how did you get that
money? It isn’t a loan, for I see you have disposed of the $2 bill.
That’s all right, said the man. No, I didn’t borrow. I went to a pawnshop
and soaked the bill for $1.50. Then as I started back here I met an old
acquaintance, to whom I sold the pawn for $1.50. I then had $3, and he
has the pawn ticket for which the $2 bill stands as security.
* * * * *
An aged Jersey farmer, visiting a circus for the first time, stood
before the dromedary’s cage, eyes popping and mouth agape at the strange
beast within. The circus proper began and the crowds left for the main
show, but still the old man stood before the cage in stunned silence,
appraising every detail of the misshapen legs, the cloven hoofs, the
pendulous upper lip, and the curiously moulded back of the sleepy-eyed
beast. Fifteen minutes passed. Then the farmer turned away and spat
disgustedly.
Hell! There ain’t no such animal!
* * * * *
They were playing poker in a Western town. One of the players was a
stranger, and was getting a nice trimming. Finally the sucker saw one of
the players give himself three aces from the bottom of the pack.
The sucker turned to the man beside him and said: Did you see that?
See what? asked the man.
Why, that fellow dealt himself three aces from the bottom of the deck,
said the sucker.
Well, what about it? asked the man. It was his deal, wasn’t it?
* * * * *
At a dinner given by a political club in New York recently, a man who
is unusually young for one who has attained to such prominence in his
profession was for the first time in his life set down for a response
to one of the toasts. When at last he was called on, his beardless face
flushed and his manner was very embarrassed. Nevertheless he stood up and
thus delivered himself: Gentlemen, before I entered this room, I had an
excellent speech prepared. Only God and myself knew what I was going to
say. Now God alone knows. And he sat down.
* * * * *
That feller Morgan Buttles is terrible unpopular, said one mountaineer.
We’ll have to git rid o’ him somehow, replied the old moonshiner.
Yes. But we don’t want to do nothin’ in a way that ain’t legitimate an’
customary. You know he has political ambitions.
I’ve heard so. But he ain’t got no pull.
Yes, he has. An’ you an’ your relations want to stand back o’ me when I
put the case up to our Congressman. We’ll git Buttles app’inted a revenue
inspector, an’ then let nature take its course.
* * * * *
A writer says in regard to the Prussia of fifty years ago that it had
a state lottery, and in every town, large or small, was a collector
appointed to sell tickets. One day a servant-girl came to the collector
in Hagen and asked if she could buy No. 23.
He did not have it in his possession, but as the girl seemed very much
in earnest, and refused to be put off with any other number, he tried
to obtain it from some of the other collectors in town, and finally
succeeded.
The drawing took place, and Hagen rose to a state of feverish excitement
when it was known that this girl had become a winner of a large sum of
money. She found herself for a time the chief object of interest in the
town.
She was, of course, asked how she came to fix upon No. 23. Thereupon she
gave this simple and lucid explanation:
I dreamed one night No. 7, and the second night I dreamed No. 7, and a
third night again. So I thought, Three times seven makes twenty-three,
and I bought that number.
* * * * *
A short time since two young women entered a tramcar in Manchester,
England, and found only standing room. One of them whispered to her
companion, I am going to get a seat from one of these men. You just take
notice.
She selected a sedate-looking man, sailed up to him, and boldly opened
fire.
My dear Mr. Green, how delighted I am to meet you! You are almost a
stranger! Will I accept your seat? Well I do feel tired, I heartily
admit! Thank you, so much!
The sedate man, a perfect stranger, of course, quietly gave her his seat,
saying:
Sit down, Jane, my girl; don’t often see you out on washing day. How’s
your mistress?
The young lady got her seat, but lost her vivacity.
* * * * *
A number of years ago, when the present second Assistant Secretary of
State, Alvey A. Adee, was third assistant, an employe of the State
department was called to the phone.
Will you kindly give me the name of the Third Assistant Secretary of
State? asked the voice at the other end of the wire.
Adee.
A. D. what?
A. A. Adee.
Spell it, please.