He opened the door cautiously, and poking his head in, in a suggestive
sort of way, as if there might be more to follow later on provided the
way was clear, inquired, "Is this the editorial rinktum?" "The--what, my
friend?" "Is this the rinktum, sinktum, or some such place, where the
editors live?" "Yes, sir. This is the editorial room. Come right in."
"No, I guess I won't come in. Just wanted to see what a rinktum was
like, that's all. Looks like our garret, only wuss. Good day!"
* * * * *
It is related that two Presbyterians, two Baptists, two Universalists
and an active Jew recently met and discussed theology together without
quarreling in Boston. The reason they did not quarrel in Boston was
because they were in New York.
* * * * *
Going home from a party late one night a man ran against the same tree
seventeen times. He then concluded that he was lost in an interminable
forest, and began to call out, "A lost man! A lost man!" But nobody
responding to his pitiful call, he made one more effort to escape, and
had the luck to run into the next tree, which chanced to be surrounded
by iron rods for its protection. He caught hold of the rods and felt
them. He walked round and round the tree trying in vain to find some
opening to pass through, and at last gave it up in despair, saying,
"Just my luck. In the lock-up again."
* * * * *
A negro prayed that his brethren might be preserved from their
"upsettin' sins." "Brudder," said one of his friends, "you hain't got de
hang o' dat ar word. It's be-settin', not upsettin'." "Brudder," replied
the other, "if dat's so, den it's so. But--I was prayin' de Lawd to save
us from de sin o' 'toxication, for dar dey jest set-em-up fust and den
dey gits upset, an' if dat ain't an upsettin' sin, I dunno what am."
* * * * *
There are very few men who can handle a red-hot lamp-chimney and at the
same time say, "There is no place like Home," without getting--confused.
* * * * *
That was a truly human tombstone that bore the inscription, "I expected
this, but not just yet."
* * * * *
A youth was heard to remark to a jolly, fat Teutonian, "Haven't I seen
you before? Your face certainly looks familiar?" "Iss dot so?" answered
Hans. "An' ven you get so oldt as me, your face vill look fermiliar,
too."
* * * * *
A young lady complained to her male companion that she didn't like
arithmetic. She couldn't understand it, and didn't see the use of it.
The young man said he would teach her. "Now," said he, "I kiss you three
times on one cheek and four times on the other. How many does that
make?"
"Seven," whispered the girl, disengaging herself to breathe more freely.
"Well," said he, "that is Arithmetic."
"Dear me," said she, "I did not think it ever could be made such a very
pleasant study."