You want to be what? demanded the conductor.
Don’t lose your temper. I had to look in de dictionary myself befo’ I
found out dat procrastinate means put off.
* * * * *
A southern planter was asking one of his colored servants about her
wedding. Yes, suh, she said, it was jes the finest weddin’ you ever
see—six bridesmaids, flowers everywhere, hundreds ev guests, music, an’
er heap er praying.
Indeed, commented her master. And I suppose Sambo looked as handsome as
any of them?
An embarrassed pause. Well no—not exactly, suh. Would you believe it, dat
fool nigger neber showed up.
* * * * *
Aunt Mary Wells is one of the few befo-de-wah darkies left in a little
Kentucky town. Recently she was discussing with her employer the
merry-go-round that was running up on the corner.
Nawsuh, Mr. Malcolm, she said, nawsuh, I don’ ride on none o’ dem things.
Why, Mr. Malcolm, I’ve seen some o’ these here fool niggers git on that
thing and ride as much as a dollar’s worth, and git off at the very same
place they gits on at; an’ I sez to em, Now you spent yo’ money, nigger,
whah yo’ been?
* * * * *
Mandy was a good-looking young colored girl and had many admirers. Her
mistress often lectured her on behaving with propriety. One evening the
mistress, going into the kitchen, was surprised to find a strange darky
with his arm around Mandy’s waist.
Why, Mandy, said the mistress indignantly, tell that man to take his arm
from around your waist.
Tell him yo’self, said Mandy haughtily. He’s a puffect stranger to me.
* * * * *
A negro was discovered carrying a large armful of books, which brought
forth the inquiry—
Going to school?
Yes, sah, boss.
Do you study all those books?
No, sah; dey’s mu brudder’s. I’se ignorant kinder nigger side him, boss.
Yer jest oughter see dat nigger figgerin’. He done gone ciphered clean
through addition, partition, subtraction, distraction, abomination,
creation, justification, amputation and adoption.
* * * * *
Uncle Ephraim had put on a clean collar and his best coat, says the
Chicago Tribune, and was walking majestically up and down the street.
Aren’t you working to-day, uncle? asked one of his acquaintances.
No, suh. I’s celebratin’ my golden weddin’, suh.
You were married fifty years ago to-day?
Yes, suh.
Well, why isn’t your wife helping you celebrate?
My present wife, suh, replied Uncle Ephraim, with dignity, ain’t got
nothin’ to do with it. She’s de fourth, suh.
* * * * *
Sambo—You know, Rastus, dat every time ah kiss mah wife she closes her
eyes an’ holler.
Rastus—Ah say she do!
Sambo—What’s dat, nigger?
Rastus—Ah say, do she?
* * * * *
Lord Babbington was instructing the new colored servant in his duties,
adding—Now, Zeke, when I ring for you, you must answer me by saying—My
lord, what will you have?
A few hours afterward, having occasion to summon the servant, his
lordship was astonished with the following—
My Gawd, whut does you want now?
* * * * *
A negro had made several ineffectual efforts to propose to the object of
his affections, but on each occasion his courage failed him at the last
moment. After thinking the matter over he finally decided to telephone,
which he did. Is that you, Samantha? he inquired upon being given the
proper number. Yes, it’s me, returned the lady. Will you marry me,
Samantha, and marry me quick? Yes, I will, was the reply, who’s speaking?
* * * * *
They installed a new furnace, or some sort of a heating apparatus, at the
Brazilian Embassy in Washington this winter.
The Charge went down to look it over. He picked up the shaker. It was
large and heavy.
Here, James, he said to the negro butler, you call up that furnace man
and tell him this shaker is too heavy. Why, none but a modern Ajax could
use it.
Yassir, said the butler, and went to the telephone. Heah, yo’ furnace
man, he said, this yere shaker yo’ done put in the Brazilian Embassy is
too heavy. Why, nobody short of a modern jackass could use it.
* * * * *
Two darkies engaged in a horse trade. After the sale was made one darky
had the other darky’s horse, for which he parted with $30.00. A few days
later the buyer of the horse came across the other darky and complained
bitterly of being robbed. Why, Rastus, that horse ain’t no good at all.
He can’t see. He’s blind.
What makes you think he’s blind, Sam?
Why, the other day I turned him out in the field and he run into the
fence, then he stumbled over a great big rock and then he run plumb into
a tree.
Aw, go long, nigger, that horse ain’t blind. He just don’t give a damn.
* * * * *
One morning, while visiting in Richmond, a New York lady overheard the
following conversation between the hostess and the cook—
Please, Mis’ Gawdon, may I git off nex’ Sunday to go to the fun’ral of a
friend of mine?
Next Sunday? Why, Eliza, this is only Monday! They wouldn’t put a funeral
off for a week.
Yas’m, respectfully; but dey has to, ’cause he ain’t dead yit.
Not dead! I am positively ashamed of you. How can you be so heartless as
to arrange to attend the funeral of a man who is still living? Why, he
may not die at all.
Yas’m, but he will; dey ain’t no hope.
It is impossible to say that, Eliza; the best doctors are often mistaken.
But even if they do know a case to be hopeless, they cannot predict the
exact time of a man’s death with such a certainty that the funeral can be
arranged so long beforehand.
Yas’m, with calm assurance; but he will be buried nex’ Sunday, for all
dat, ’cause he’s gwin’ to be hung on Friday.
* * * * *
When General John Corson Smith was lieutenant governor of Illinois, one
of the colored janitors of the state house at Springfield came into his
office one morning and related the following incident, which he said
occurred the previous evening in the negro lodge of which he was a member—
The ballot box had been passed and the worshipful master asked—How is
the ballot in the south, Brother Junior Warden? Clar in the south,
worshipful. How is the ballot in the west, Brother Senior Warden? Clar
in the west, worshipful. The W. M. then inspected the box and said—And
clar in the east. I therefore declar Mr. Josephus Johnson duly elected to
take the degrees in this lodge. Up jumped a big coon, as black as the ace
of spades, and cried, That’s a ’fernal lie,’ worshipful master. I put in
four black balls myself.
* * * * *
A negro boy walked into a drug store and asked permission to use the
telephone. Then the following conversation took place—
Is that you, Mistah Jones?
Yes, apparently was the reply.
Well, Mistah Jones, I saw your ad in de paper the other day and yo’
wanted a cullud boy. Did yo’ get one?
Yes, seemed to be the answer again.
Well, Mistah Jones, is he givin’ perfect satisfaction?
The reply appeared still to be affirmative.
Well, Mistah Jones, providen dis cullud boy don’t give perfect
satisfaction, you call me at 54.
The boy turned and started out, and the druggist, who had overheard,
remarked—You didn’t do any good, did you?
Yes, sah, came the reply. I’s dat cullud boy what’s workin’ down there.
I’se jest checkin’ up to see how I stand.
* * * * *
Edward M. Flesh, of the United States Food Commission, was talking in St.
Louis about snobbishness.
Snobbishness penetrates everywhere, he said. It even penetrates our
churches.
I know of an old darky who got religion last month and decided to join
the church. He selected, of course, the richest and handsomest church in
town, the church with the finest music and the best preaching. Then he
called on the pastor and stated his design.
But the pastor hemmed and hawed. He felt that his fashionable flock
wouldn’t welcome such an addition as the old darky. He didn’t want to
hurt the old fellow’s feelings, however, and finally he said—
Go home, Uncle Rooster. Go home and pray over it. This is an important
matter, and it should be made a subject of prayer.
Old Uncle Rooster went home, and in a few days he was back again.
Well? said the divine. Well, what’s the verdict now?
Ah prayed an’ Ah prayed, said Uncle Rooster, an’ de good Lawd He say
to me, Rooster, mah son, Ah wouldn’t bothah mah haid about dat mattah
no mo.’ Ah’ve been a-tryin’ to git into dat chu’ch mahself fo’ de last
twenty-nine yeahs an’ Ah ain’t had no luck, nuther.
* * * * *
At the end of the first six months of his pastorate in Kentucky the Rev.
Silas Johns had learned the ways of his flock so thoroughly that he knew
exactly how to deal with them. One Sunday the collection was deplorably
small. The next week he made a short and telling speech at the close of
his sermon. I don’t want any man to gib more dan his share, bredren,
he said, gently, bending toward the congregation, but we must all gib
according as we are favored and according to what we rightly hab. I say
rightly hab, bredren, he went on, after a short pause, because we don’t
want any tainted money in de box. Squire Blinks told me dat he’d missed
some chickens dis week. Now, if any one ob my pore benighted bredren has
fallen by de way in connection wid does chickens, let him stay his hand
from de box when it comes to him. Brudder Mose, will you pass de box
while I watch de signs and see if dere’s one in de congregation dat needs
me to wrestle in prayer for him?
* * * * *
An excellent story is told by Kate Douglas Wiggin, the popular writer.
A negro servant, wishing to get married, asked his master to buy him a
license in the neighboring town. The master, being in haste, did not ask
the name of the happy woman, but as he drove along he reflected on the
many tender attentions that he had seen John lavish upon Euphemia Wilson,
the cook, and, concluding that there could be no mistake, had the license
made out in her name.
There’s your license to marry Euphemia, he said to the servant that
night. You’re as good as married already, and you owe me only two dollars.
The darky’s face fell.
But, Mas’ Tom, Euphemia Wilson ain’t de lady I’se gwine to marry.
Dat wan’t nothin’ mo’n a little flirtation. Georgiana Thompson, the
la’ndress, is the one I’se gwine to marry.
Oh, well, John, said the master, amused and irritated at the same time,
there’s no great harm done. I’ll get you another license to-morrow, but
it will cost you two dollars more, of course.
The next morning the darky came out to the carriage as it was starting
for town, and leaning confidentially over the wheel, said—Mas’ Tom,
you needn’t git me no udder license; I’ll use the one I’se got. I’se
been t’inkin’ it over in de night, an’ to tell you de troof, Mas’ Tom,
de conclusion o’ my jedgment is dat dar ain’t two dollars’ worth o’
diff’rence between dem two ladies.
* * * * *
Until recently there was a partnership existing between two darky
blacksmiths in an Alabama town. The dissolution of this association was
made known by a notice nailed upon the door of the smithy, which notice
ran as follows—
The kopardnershipp heretofor resisting between me and Mose Jenkins is
heerby resolved. All perrsons owing the firm will settel with me, and all
perrsons that the firm owes to will settel with Mose.
_Alliterations_
I wonder if you know that Betty Botter baked a bit of batter, but her
batter was so bitter that to make her bitter batter better Betty Botter
bought a bit of better butter, and with this bit of better butter Betty
Botter made her bitter batter better.
* * * * *
In reply to the question, How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a
woodchuck would chuck wood? I would say, if a woodchuck would chuck all
the wood that a woodchuck could chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood,
a woodchuck would chuck as much wood as a woodchuck could chuck if a
woodchuck could chuck wood.
* * * * *
When the tramp begged for somthun to do for a bite o’ bread, the lady of
the house said—Did you happen to notice that pile of wood in the yard?
Yes’m, I seen it.
You should mind your grammar. You mean you saw it.
No’m. You saw me see it, but you ain’t seen me saw it.
* * * * *
An old farmer of Arkansas, whose sons had all grown up and left him,
hired a young man by the name of Esau Buck to help him on his farm. On
the evening of the first day they hauled up a small load of poles for
wood, and unloaded them. The next morning the old man said to the hired
man—
Esau, I’m going to town today, and while I am gone you may saw wood and
keep the old ram out of the garden.
When the old man had gone, Esau went out to saw the wood, but when he saw
the saw he wouldn’t saw. When Esau saw the saw he couldn’t saw with that
saw. Esau looked around for another saw, but that was the only saw he
saw, so he didn’t saw. When the old man came home he said to Esau—
Esau, did you saw the wood?
Esau said—I saw the wood, but I wouldn’t saw it.
The old man went out to see the saw, and when he saw the saw he saw that
Esau couldn’t saw with that saw. When Esau saw that the old man saw that
he couldn’t saw with the saw, Esau picked up the ax and chopped up the
wood and made a seesaw.
The next day the old man went to town and bought a new buck-saw for Esau
Buck, and when he came home he hung the buck-saw for Esau Buck on the
saw-buck by the seesaw.
Just at that time Esau Buck saw the old buck in the garden eating
cabbage, and when driving him from the garden to the barn-yard Esau Buck
saw the buck-saw on the saw-buck by the seesaw.
When the old buck saw Esau Buck looking at the new buck-saw on the
saw-buck by the seesaw, he made a dive for Esau, hit the seesaw, knocked
the seesaw against Esau Buck, who fell on the buck-saw on the saw-buck by
the seesaw.
When the old man saw the old buck dive at Esau Buck, and miss Esau and
hit the seesaw and knock the seesaw against Esau, and Esau Buck fall
on the buck-saw on the saw-buck by the seesaw, he picked up an ax to
kill the old buck. But the buck saw him coming and dodged the blow and
countered on the old man’s stomach, knocked the old man over the seesaw
onto Esau Buck, who was getting the seesaw, crippled Esau Buck, broke the
buck-saw and the saw-buck and the seesaw.
* * * * *
A Yale student is reported to be responsible for the following
alliteration—
Bill had a billboard. Bill also had a board bill. The board bill bored
Bill so that Bill sold the bill board to pay the board bill. So after
Bill sold the bill board to pay his board bill the board bill no longer
bored Bill.
It is said that with little practice on either exercise a salesman will
so loosen his tongue and grease his vocal organs that he can sell Russian
bonds to a Japanese.
_Poet’s Corner_