Jones; can’t you speak any louder? Be more enthusiastic. Open your
mouth and throw yourself into it.”
* * * * *
“I confess that the subject of psychical research makes no great
appeal to me,” Sir William Henry Perkin, the inventor of coal-tar
dyes, told some friends in New York. “Personally, in the course of a
fairly long career, I have heard at first hand but one ghost story.
Its hero was a man whom I may as well call Snooks.
“Snooks, visiting at a country house, was put in the haunted chamber
for the night. He said that he did not feel the slightest uneasiness,
but nevertheless, just as a matter of precaution, he took to bed with
him a revolver of the latest American pattern.
“He slept peacefully enough until the clock struck two, when he awoke
with an unpleasant feeling of oppression. He raised his head and
peered about him. The room was wanly illumined by the full moon, and
in that weird, bluish light he thought he discerned a small, white
hand clasping the rail at the foot of the bed.
“‘Who’s there?’ he asked tremulously.
“There was no reply. The small, white hand did not move.
“‘Who’s there?’ he repeated. ‘Answer me or I’ll shoot.’
“Again there was no reply.
“Snooks cautiously raised himself, took careful aim and fired.
“From that night on he’s limped. Shot off two of his own toes.”
* * * * *
When the Rev. Dr. Henson, then of Chicago, came to the New York
Chautauqua to lecture on “Fools,” Bishop Vincent introduced him thus:
“Ladies and gentlemen, we are now to have a lecture on ‘Fools’ by one
of the most distinguished----”
Here there was a long pause, the Bishop’s inflection indicating that
he had finished. The audience roared with delight, and roared again,
so that it was some time before the sentence was concluded--“men of
Chicago.”
Dr. Henson, who is a man of ready wit, stepped to the front of the
platform, and said:
“Ladies and gentlemen, I am not so great a fool as Bishop Vincent----”
and then he paused as if he had finished, and the audience went fairly
wild over the situation. When quiet was restored, Dr. Henson
concluded--“would have you think.”
* * * * *
Doctor (feeling Sandy’s pulse in bed)--“What do you drink?”
Sandy (with brightening face)--“Oh, I’m nae particular, doctor!
Anything you’ve got with ye.”
* * * * *
Every employee of the Bank of England is required to sign his name in
a book on his arrival in the morning, and, if late, must give the
reason therefor. The chief cause of tardiness is usually fog, and the
first man to arrive writes “fog” opposite his name, and those who
follow write “ditto.” One day, however, the first late man gave as the
reason, “wife had twins,” and twenty other late men mechanically
signed “ditto” underneath.
* * * * *
At a dinner in Washington there was told a Scotch story of a
parishioner who had strayed from his own kirk.
“Why weren’t you at the kirk on Sunday?” asked the preacher of the
culprit on meeting him a day or two later.
“I was at Mr. McClellan’s kirk,” said the other.
“I don’t like you running about to strange kirks like that,” continued
the minister. “Not that I object to your hearing Mr. McClellan, but
I’m sure you widna like your sheep straying into strange pastures.”
“I widna care a grain, sir, if it was better grass,” responded the
parishioner.
* * * * *
Tommy, very sleepy, was saying his prayers. “Now I lay me down to
sleep,” he began. “I pray the Lord my soul to keep.”
“‘If,’” his mother prompted.
“If he hollers let him go, eeny, meeny, miny, mo!”
* * * * *
Perish the thought that the novelist or playwright should be tied down
to historical accuracy! Lady Dorothy Neville quotes an amusing
correspondence between Bulwer Lytton and her brother, Horace Walpole.
“My dear Walpole: Here I am at Bath--bored to death. I am thinking of
writing a play about your great ancestor Sir Robert. Had he not a
sister Lucy, and did she not marry a Jacobite?”
Walpole promptly replied:
“My dear Lytton: I care little for my family, and less still for Sir
Robert, but I know that he never had a sister Lucy, so she could not
have married a Jacobite.”
However, this mattered little to Lord Lytton, for his answer ran:
“My dear Walpole: You are too late! Sir Robert _had_ a sister Lucy,
and she _did_ marry a Jacobite.”
So in defiance of history, the play “Walpole” was written.
* * * * *
“Here’s a curious item, Joshua!” exclaimed Mrs. Lemington, spreading
out the Billeville “Mirror” in her ample lap. “The _Nellie E.
Williams_ of Gloucester reports that she saw two whales, a cow and a
calf, floating off Cape Cod the day before yesterday.”
“Well, ma,” replied old Mr. Lemington, “what’s the matter with that?”
“Why, it’s all right about the two whales, Joshua, but what bothers me
is how the cow and the calf got way out there.”
* * * * *
A Congressman once declared in an address to the House:
“As Daniel Webster says in his great dictionary--”
“It was Noah who wrote the dictionary,” whispered a colleague, who sat
at the next desk.
“Noah, nothing,” replied the speaker. “Noah built the ark.”
* * * * *
Father (who has been called upon in the city and asked for his
daughter’s hand)--“Louise, do you know what a solemn thing it is to be
married?”
Louise--“Oh, yes, pa; but it is a good deal more solemn being
single.”
* * * * *
Captain Roald Amundsen, Norway’s famous explorer, told this story
about a National Guard encampment:
“A new volunteer, who had not quite learned his business, was on
sentry duty, one night, when a friend brought him a pie from the
canteen.
“As he sat on the grass eating pie, the major sauntered up in undress
uniform. The sentry, not recognizing him, did not salute, and the
major stopped and said:
“‘What’s that you have there?’
“‘Pie,’ said the sentry, good-naturedly. ‘Apple pie. Have a bite?’
“The major frowned.
“‘Do you know who I am?’ he asked.
“‘No,’ said the sentry, ‘unless you’re the major’s groom.’
“The major shook his head.
“‘Guess again,’ he growled.
“‘The barber from the village?’
“‘No.’
“‘Maybe--’ here the sentry laughed--‘maybe you’re the major himself?’
“‘That’s right. I am the major,’ was the stern reply.
“The sentry scrambled to his feet.
“‘Good gracious!’ he exclaimed. ‘Hold the pie, will you, while I
present arms!’”
* * * * *
A player for many years associated with the late Richard Mansfield
relates that one day in Philadelphia, as he was standing by a huge
poster in front of the theater a poster that represented Mansfield in
the character of “Henry V.,” a man who was strolling by stopped to
gaze at the bill. Finally, with a snort of disgust, he muttered as he
turned to go:
“_‘Henry V.--_’ what?”
* * * * *
“There is an old negro down in my town,” said John Sharp Williams, the
former Democratic leader of the House, “who did me a service. I wanted
to reward him, so I said:
“‘Uncle, which shall I give you--a ton of coal or a bottle of whisky?’
“‘Foh de Lo’d, Massa John,’ he replied, ‘you-all shorely knows I buhn
wood.’”
* * * * *
“No,” remarked a determined lady to an indignant cabman who had
received his legal fare, “you can not cheat me, my man. I haven’t
ridden in cabs for the last twenty-five years for nothing.”
“Haven’t you, mum?” replied the cabman, bitterly, gathering up the
reins. “Well, you’ve done your best!”
* * * * *
On the mighty deep.
The great ocean liner rolled and pitched.
“Henry,” faltered the young bride, “do you still love me?”
“More than ever, darling!” was Henry’s fervent answer.
Then there was eloquent silence.
“Henry,” she gasped, turning her pale, ghastly face away. “I thought
that would make me feel better, but it doesn’t!”
* * * * *
Once in Nice an Englishman and a Frenchman were about to separate on
the Promenade des Anglais.
The Englishman, as he started toward the Cercle Mediterranee, called
back:
“Au reservoir!”
And the Frenchman waved his hand and answered:
“Tanks.”
* * * * *
During a Baptist convention held in Charleston the Rev. Dr. Greene of
Washington strolled down to the Battery one morning to take a look
across the harbor at Fort Sumter. An old negro was sitting on the
seawall fishing. Dr. Greene watched the lone fisherman, and finally
saw him pull up an odd-looking fish, a cross between a toad and a
catfish.
“What kind of a fish is that, old man?” inquired Dr. Greene.
“Dey calls it de Baptist fish,” replied the fisherman, as he tossed it
away in deep disgust.
“Why do they call it the Baptist fish?” asked the minister.
“Because dey spoil so soon after dey comes outen de water,” answered
the fisherman.
* * * * *
Blanche, Wilbur, and Thomas were in the garden playing, and making a
great deal of noise, but small Jack sat in a corner very quietly,
which for Jack was an unusual proceeding. After watching them for
some time, the mother’s curiosity prompted her to ask:
“What are you playing?”
“We are playing house,” answered Wilbur. “Blanche and I are the mother
and father, and Thomas is the child.”
“And what does Jack do?”
“Sh, sh! he isn’t born yet.”
* * * * *
Governor Chamberlain of Connecticut used to tell of an old friend who,
because of his deafness, made some ludicrous and at times embarrassing
mistakes. Once he was at a dinner party where the lady seated next to
him tried to help him along in conversation. As the fruit was being
passed, she asked him: “Do you like bananas?”
“No,” said the old gentleman, with a look of mild surprise. “The fact
is,” he added in a confidential tone which could be heard in the next
room, “I find the old-fashioned nightshirt is good enough for me.”
* * * * *
An Atchison woman with a little baby tells the following story. She
says that a woman caller said: “What a dear little baby; how old is
it?” “Sixteen months,” replied the Atchison woman. “Well, dear me, it
looks older,” said the caller, and then went on and talked and talked
and finally turned again to the baby, and said: “That precious baby,
how old is it?” “Sixteen months,” replied the mother. “Well, dear me,”
smilingly said the caller. “Oh, such a big baby for its age,” and went
on talking and talking. Again turning to the baby the caller said:
“What a darling angel the baby is; how old is it?” “Eighteen months,”
said the exasperated mother. “Well, I declare, it looks two years
old,” said the caller, and then talked and talked. Just as she was
leaving the caller stooped and kissed the baby and said: “Bless its
little heart; how old is it?” “Ten months,” shrieked the outraged
mother, but the caller tripped gaily away; she had not noticed the
replies to her questions, and had no idea and did not care how old the
baby was.
* * * * *
A boy went into a confectioner’s shop and asked for a glass of
lemonade. When it was given him he took it, looked at it, and said he
would have a bun instead. The bun was given him; he ate it and was
walking out of the shop when the confectioner called after him, “Hi,
you haven’t paid for your bun.” “No,” said the boy, “I gave you back
the lemonade for that.” “But,” said the man, “you did not pay for the
lemonade.” “I didn’t drink it,” said the boy, and walked out of the
shop leaving the confectioner calculating.
* * * * *
Two women overheard talking in a poor district of London: “Did ye ever
’ear tell of Lot’s wife?” “Well, no, Mrs. Brown, I can’t say I ever
did. Why?” “Well, I don’t know very much about ’er myself, but I ’ave
’eard tell of ’er that she turned into a pillar of salt.” “Lord, did
she? What funny things one does ’ear nowadays. It was only this
morning I was out with my ’usband and ’e turned into a public-house.”
* * * * *
Willie Green was not only chewing gum, but had his feet sprawled out
in the aisle in a most unbecoming manner.
“Willie,” said the teacher, “take that gum out of your mouth this
instant, and put in your feet.”
* * * * *
William was considered the brightest boy in his grade; upon hearing a
lesson recited in class once or twice he knew it quite well. Thus,
while the other fellows were compelled to study hard he scarcely found
it necessary to open a book. At the expiration of the term one of the
questions in the written geography was, “What is the equator?”
William, always to be depended upon, wrote without delay:
“The equator is a menagerie lion running around the center of the
earth.”
* * * * *
He was an earnest minister, and one Sunday, in the course of a sermon
on the significance of little things, he said:
“The hand which made the mighty heavens made a grain of sand; which
made the lofty mountains made a drop of water; which made you made the
grass of the field; which made me made a daisy!”
* * * * *
A young Scotchman, bashful but desperately in love, finding no notice
was taken of his visits to the house of his sweetheart, summoned up
sufficient courage to address the fair one thus:
“Jean, I was here on Monday nicht.”
“Ay, ye were that,” replied she.
“An’ I was here on Tuesday nicht.”
“So ye were.”
“An’ I was here on Wednesday,” continued the ardent youth.
“Ay, an’ ye were on Thursday nicht an’ a’.”
“An’ I was here last nicht.”
“Weel,” she says, “what if ye were?”
“An’ I am here the nicht again.”
“An’ what about it even if ye came every nicht?”
“What about it, did ye say? Did ye no’ begin to smell a rat?”
* * * * *
Rustic--“Well, Miss, I be fair mazed wi’ the ways o’ that ’ere
fisherman--that I be!”
Parson’s Daughter--“Why is that, Carver?”
Rustic--“The owd fool has been sittin’ there for the last six hours
and hasn’t caught nothin’.”
Parson’s Daughter--“How do you know that?”
Rustic--“I’ve been a-watchin’ o’ he the whole time!”
* * * * *
A stately and venerable professor one morning, being unable to attend
to his class on account of a cold, wrote on the blackboard:
“Dr. Dash, through indisposition, is unable to attend to his classes
to-day.”
The students erased one letter in this notice, making it read:
“Dr. Dash, through indisposition, is unable to attend to his lasses
to-day.”
But it happened a few minutes later that the professor returned for a
box he had forgotten. Amid a roar of laughter he detected the change
in his notice, and, approaching the blackboard, calmly erased one
letter in his turn.
Now the notice read:
“Dr. Dash, through indisposition, is unable to attend to his asses
to-day.”
* * * * *
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.
“You, my friend,” turning to the man on the other side of him, “I
should say you are from Chicago?” Again he was right.
The other two men got interested.
“And you are from Boston?” he asked the third man.
“That’s right, too,” said the New Englander.
“And you from Philadelphia, I should say?” to the last man.
“No, sir,” answered the man with considerable warmth; “I’ve been sick
for three months: that’s what makes me look that way!”
* * * * *
Five-year-old Nellie had been naughty all day. Finally her mama, a
very portly woman, sat down and drew the little culprit across her
ample lap to administer the long-delayed punishment. Nellie’s face was
fairly buried in the folds of her mother’s dress. Before the maternal
hand could descend Nellie turned her face to say, “Well, if I’m going
to be spanked _I must have air_.”
* * * * *
“John,” said the woman with nine chapeaux, “I got another new hat
to-day.” “My dear!” expostulated her husband, “that is the last
straw.” “I know it,” she said; “just from Paris.”
* * * * *
A prominent Bostonian inquired of a London shopkeeper for Hare’s
“Walks in London.”
The shopkeeper, after much search, found it on his shelves, but in two
volumes.
“Ah,” said the Bostonian, “you have your Hare parted in the middle
over here.”
“What!” exclaimed the Englishman, blankly, passing his hands over his
head.
* * * * *
Mr. Blaine used to tell this story: Once, in Dublin, toward the end of
the opera, Mephistopheles was conducting Faust through a trap-door
which represented the gates of hell. His majesty got through all
right--he was used to going below--but Faust was quite stout, got
half-way in, and no squeezing would get him any farther. Suddenly an
Irishman in the gallery exclaimed devoutly: “Thank God! hell’s full.”
* * * * *
An Ohio man who was recently elected to Congress, went to Washington
to look around and see what his duties were. He was hospitably
received, and was wined and dined a great many times by his
colleagues. Before he went home he said to his friends: “By George, I
have had a good time! I have had dinners and breakfasts and suppers
galore given to me. In fact, I haven’t had my knife out of my mouth
since I struck town.”
* * * * *
When Commissioner Allen had charge of the Patent Office in Washington
he was very punctilious about the respect due him and his position,
and demanded full tribute from everybody.
One day, as he was sitting at his desk, two men came in without
knocking or announcement and without removing their hats.
Allen looked up and impaled the intruders with his glittering eye.
“Gentlemen,” he said severely, “who are visitors to this office to see
me are always announced, and always remove their hats.”
“Huh,” replied one of the men, “we ain’t visitors, and we don’t give a
hoot about seeing you. We came in to fix the steam pipes.”
* * * * *
One time there was a fire in a small town. It was being discussed in
the hearing of several of the citizens. One man said he believed it
was incendiary. Another replied: “Incendiary, nonsense! It was set on
fire!”
* * * * *
Addressing a political gathering the other day a speaker gave his
hearers a touch of the pathetic. “I miss,” he said, brushing away a
not unmanly tear, “I miss many of the old faces I used to shake hands
with.”
* * * * *
The Rev. Moses Jackson was holding services in a small country church,
and at the conclusion lent his hat to a member (as was the custom) to
pass around for contributions. The brother canvassed the congregation
thoroughly, but the hat was returned empty to its owner.
Bre’r Jackson looked into it, turned it upside down, and shook it
vigorously, but not a copper was forthcoming. He sniffed audibly.
“Brederen,” he said, “I sho’ is glad dat I got my hat back ergin.”
* * * * *
Pattern for all beneath the sun,
To Taft award the palm and bun!
They told him what they wanted done--
He done it.
* * * * *
Secretary Knox tells a good story of the last fight the late Senator
Quay, of Pennsylvania, made in the Senate. Quay was working hard on
the Oklahoma Statehood Bill, obstructing legislation, when a scheme
was fixed up to get him away from the Senate for a time. Quay was very
fond of tarpon fishing and had a winter place in Florida. One
afternoon he received this telegram from a friend who thought the
Senator might be in better business than pottering around about new
States:
“Fishing never so good. Tarpon biting everywhere, sport magnificent;
come.”
Quay read the telegram and smiled a little smile. Then he answered:
“Tarpon may be biting, but I am not.--M. S. Quay.”
* * * * *
“Now, children,” said the teacher, “I want each of you to think of
some animal or bird and try for the moment to be like the particular
one you are thinking about, and make the same kind of noises they are
in the habit of making.”
Instantly the schoolroom became a menagerie. Lions roaring, dogs
barking, birds singing and twittering, cows lowing, calves bleating,
cats meowing, etc., all in an uproar and excitement--all with one
exception, off in a remote corner a little fellow was sitting
perfectly still, apparently indifferent and unmindful of the rest. The
teacher observing him, approached and said: “Waldo, why are you not
taking part with the other children?”
Waving her off with a deprecating hand and rebuking eyes he whispered:
“Sh-sh-sh, teacher! I’m a rooster, and I’m a-layin’ a aig!”
* * * * *
Bishop Brewster, of Connecticut, while visiting some friends not long
ago, tucked his napkin in his collar to avoid the juice of the
grapefruit at breakfast. He laughed as he did it, and said it reminded
him of a man he once knew who rushed into a restaurant and, seating
himself at a table, proceeded to tuck his napkin under his chin. He
then called a waiter and said, “Can I get lunch here?” “Yes,”
responded the waiter in a dignified manner, “but not a shampoo.”
* * * * *
A man and his wife were once staying at a hotel, when in the night
they were aroused from their slumbers by the cry that the hotel was
afire.
“Now, my dear,” said the husband, “I will put into practise what I
have preached. Put on all your indispensable apparel and keep cool.”
Then he slipped his watch into his vest pocket and walked with his
wife out of the hotel. When all danger was past, he said, “Now you see
how necessary it is to keep cool.”
The wife for the first time glanced at her husband.
“Yes, William,” she said, “it is a grand thing, but if I were you I
would have put on my trousers.”
* * * * *
One evening as the mother of the little niece of Phillips Brooks was
tucking her snugly in bed the maid stepped in and said there was a
caller waiting in the parlor. The mother told the child to say her
prayers and promised that she would be back in a few minutes.
The caller remained only a short time, and when the mother went
upstairs again she asked the little girl if she had done as she was
bidden.
“Yes, mama, I did and I didn’t,” she said.
“What do you mean by that, dear?”
“Well, mama, I was awfully sleepy, so I just asked God if he wouldn’t
excuse me to-night and He said, ‘Oh, don’t mention it, Miss Brooks.’”
* * * * *
“Would you mind walking the other w’y and not passing the ’orse?” said
a London cabman with exaggerated politeness to the fat lady who had
just paid a minimum fare.
“Why?” she inquired.
“Because if ’e sees wot ’e’s been carryin’ for a shilling ’e’ll ’ave a
fit.”
* * * * *
One afternoon during a recent sea voyage of Ex-Ambassador Choate the
waves were unpleasantly high, and the ship was rolling a bit, to the
discomfiture of some passengers.
Mr. Choate remarked: “’Tis better to have lunched and lost than never
to have lunched at all.”
* * * * *
A certain minister was deeply impressed by an address on the evils of
smoking given at a recent synod. He rose from his seat, went over to a
fellow minister, and said:
“Brother, this morning I received a present of 100 good cigars. I have
smoked one of them, but now I’m going home to burn the remainder in
the fire.”
The other minister arose, and said it was his intention to accompany
his reverend brother.
“I mean to rescue the ninety and nine,” he added.
* * * * *
Expecting a visit from the superintendent of an adjacent Sunday-school
one Sunday afternoon, one enterprising teacher, anticipating the line
of questions which would be asked of the scholars selected a boy from
her class to answer each question. As she had figured it out, the
visitor would first ask the pupils the question, “Who made you?” and
the first pupil was, of course, to answer “God.” The next question was
to be “Of what?” to which the answer was to be “Of the dust of the
earth.” Unfortunately between the time that Sunday-school was called
to order and the visiting superintendent took the floor, the first
pupil was taken sick and obliged to go home. The teacher did not have
the opportunity to readjust her forces, and when the first question
was asked, the second boy thought it a good opportunity for him to get
in his answer and have it off his mind; so to the question, “Who made
you?” he answered, “Of the dust of the earth.”
“Oh, no,” said the visitor. “God made you.”
“No, sir; He did not,” said the youngster. “The little boy that God
made has gone home sick, and I am the dust of the earth.”
* * * * *
When General Grant was in London on his trip around the world he was
invited to Windsor Castle by Queen Victoria. The queen received the
party in one of the private audience chambers and chatted with General
Grant for a few moments before dinner was served.
Jesse Grant, then a small boy, was with the general, and stood just
behind him. As the general was talking, Jesse pulled impatiently at
his coat-tails a number of times. Finally, the general turned
half-way, and Jesse whispered:
“Pa, can’t I be introduced?”
“Your Majesty,” said the general, “I should like to present my son,
Master Jesse.”
The queen shook Jesse’s hand cordially, and that young man, thinking
it incumbent on him to say something, glanced approvingly around the
room and said: “Fine house you have here, ma’am.”
* * * * *
Daniel J. Sully, the former Cotton King, made a trip through the South
one winter, and when he came back he told a story of an old negro who
had been working for a cotton planter time out of mind. One morning he
came to his employer and said:
“I’se gwineter quit, boss.”