“Well, sah, yer manager, Mistah Winter, ain’t kicked me in de las’
free mumfs.”
“I ordered him not to kick you any more. I don’t want anything like
that around my place. I don’t want any one to hurt your feelings,
Mose.”
“Ef I don’t git any more kicks I’se goin’ to quit. Ebery time Mistah
Winter used ter kick and cuff me when he wuz mad he always git ’shamed
of hisself and gimme a quarter. I’se done los’ enuff money a’ready wid
dis heah foolishness ’bout hurtin’ ma feelin’s.”
* * * * *
A Chicago mistress had given the butcher her daily order over the
telephone. Later in the day she decided to change it a little, and
countermanded an order she had given for some liver.
Calling up the butcher, she said:
“You remember that I gave you an order this morning for a pound of
liver?”
“Yes,” answered the butcher.
“Well, I find that I can get along without it, and you need not send
it.”
Before she could put down the receiver she heard the butcher say to
some one in the store:
“Cut out Mrs. Blank’s liver. She says she can get along without it.”
* * * * *
Tommy--“Ma, I met the minister on my way to Sunday-school and he asked
me if I ever went fishing on Sunday.”
Mother--“And what did you say, darling?”
Tommy--“I said, ‘Get thee behind me, Satan,’ and ran right away from
him.”
* * * * *
“My hair is falling out,” admitted the timid man in the chemist’s.
“Can you recommend something to keep it in?”
“Certainly,” replied the obliging assistant. “Here is a nice cardboard
box.”
* * * * *
An eloquent evangelist who was holding a series of protracted meetings
had been interrupted on several occasions by the departure of some one
of the audience. He determined to prevent further annoyance by making
an example of the next one so doing. Therefore, when a young man arose
to depart in the middle of a discourse, he said: “Young man, would
you rather go to hell than listen to this sermon?” The individual
addressed stopped midway up the aisle and, turning slowly about,
answered: “Well, to tell the truth, I don’t know but I would.”
* * * * *
Mr. Seabury and his wife were on the point of moving to another flat.
Both of them were anxious that the transfer should be made at the
least possible expense, and the nearness of the new home promised
materially to further this aim.
“I can carry loads of little things over in my brown bag,” announced
Mrs. Seabury. “And you can take books and so on in your big satchel.”
In discussing further the matter of transportation, Mrs. Seabury
remarked that, notwithstanding the heat, she could wear her winter
coat over, and leave it, and return for her spring coat. The idea
charmed her impractical husband.
“Why, I can do the same thing!” he said. “I’ll wear over one suit and
then come back for another!”
* * * * *
The ghost of Noah Webster came to a spiritual medium in Alabama, not
long ago, and wrote on a slip of paper: “It is tite times.” Noah was
right, but we are sorry to see he has gone back on his dictionary.
* * * * *
Sydney Smith wrote to Jeffrey: “Tell Murray that I was much struck
with the politeness of Miss Markham the day after he went. In carving
a partridge I splashed her with gravy from head to foot; and, though
I saw three distinct brown rills of juice trickling down her cheek,
she had the complaisance to swear that not a drop had reached her.
Such circumstances are the triumphs of civilized life.”
* * * * *
During a certain battle the colonel of an Irish regiment noticed that
one of his men was extremely devoted to him, and followed him
everywhere. At length he remarked, “Well, my man, you have stuck by me
well to-day.”
“Yis, sorr,” replied Pat. “Shure me mither said to me, said she, just
stick to the colonel, Patrick, me bhoy, and you’ll be all roight. Them
colonels never gets hurted.”
* * * * *
Miss Frances Keller, of the Woman’s Municipal League of New York,
illustrated admirably at a recent dinner party a point which she
wished to make in reply to a man who had said, “Women are vainer than
men.”
“Of course,” Miss Keller answered, “I admit that women are vain and
men are not. There are a thousand proofs that this is so. Why, the
necktie of the handsomest man in the room is even now up the back of
his collar.”
There were six men present and each of them put his hand gently behind
his neck.
* * * * *
As father was leaving the house one morning he looked in vain for his
umbrella.
“I expect sister’s beau took it last night,” ventured six-year-old
Willie.
“Oh, you naughty boy,” said Sister Mabel; “how can you say that?”
“Why, it’s so,” Willie insisted. “When he was saying good night I
heard him say, ‘I am going to steal just one!’”
* * * * *
During a conversation with a young lady Mark Twain had occasion to
mention the word drydock.
“What is a drydock, Mr. Clemens?” she asked.
“A thirsty physician,” replied the humorist.
* * * * *
Some officer had disobeyed or failed to comprehend an order. “I
believe I’ll sit down,” said Secretary Stanton, “and give that man a
piece of my mind.”
“Do so,” said Lincoln, “write him now while you have it on your mind.
Make it sharp. Cut him all up.” Stanton did not need a second
invitation. It was a bone crusher that he read to the President.
“That’s right,” said Lincoln; “that’s a good one.”
“Whom can I send it by?” mused the Secretary.
“Send it!” replied Lincoln. “Why, don’t send it at all. Tear it up.
You have freed your mind on the subject, and that is all that is
necessary. Tear it up. You never want to send such letters, I never
do.”
* * * * *
A certain old gentleman’s lack of “polish” is a sad trial to his
eldest daughter. Not long ago the family were gathered in the library,
one of the windows of which was open.
“That air--” the father began, but was quickly interrupted.
“Father, dear, don’t say ‘that air’--say ‘that there,’” the daughter
admonished.
“Well, this ear--” he again attempted, but was as quickly brought to a
halt.
“Nor ‘this ’ere’; ‘this here’ is correct,” he was told.
The old gentleman rose with an angry snort. “Look here, Mary,” he
said. “Of course I know you have been to school and all that, but I
reckon I know what I want to say, an’ I am going to say it. I believe
I feel cold in this ear from that air, and I’m going to shut the
window!”
* * * * *
“If you please, sir?”
“Well, Jimmy?”
“Me grandmother, sir--”
“Aha, your grandmother! Go on, Jimmy.”
“Me grandmother an’ me mother--”
“What, and your mother, too! Both very ill, eh?”
“No, sir. Me grandmother an’ me mother are goin’ to the baseball game
this afternoon an’ they want me to stay home an’ take care of me
little brudder.”
* * * * *
Office-boy--“Please, Mr. Jones, my grandmother is dead, and so I must
get off early to go to the funeral match--I mean the baseball
ceremonies--that is--”
* * * * *
“That makes a difference,” said Willie, snipping off the left ear of
one of the twins.
* * * * *
Bill Nye, when a young man, made an engagement with a lady to take her
driving. The appointed day came, but at the livery stable all the
horses were taken save one old, shaky, exceedingly gaunt beast. Mr.
Nye hired it and drove to his friend’s residence. The lady kept him
waiting over an hour before she was ready and then, viewing the shabby
outfit, flatly refused to accompany Mr. Nye. “Why,” she exclaimed,
“that horse may die of old age any moment!”
“Madam,” Mr. Nye replied, “when I arrived that horse was a prancing
young colt.”
* * * * *
In “Some Reminiscences” by William Rossetti is the following anecdote
of Tennyson: “The witness was Allingham, to whom the incident
happened. He was at breakfast at the house of the poet laureate, who,
in a rather feeble moment of facetiousness, asked: ‘Will you have a
hegg?’ ‘Yes, thank you,’ replied Allingham, who had scarcely
appropriated the proffered viand when Tennyson added, ‘I suppose you
understand I was only joking when I said hegg?’”
* * * * *
“Long introductions when a man has a speech to make are a bore,” said
former Senator John C. Spooner, one of the great Senate leaders. “I
have had all kinds, but the most satisfactory one in my career was
that of a German mayor of a small town in my State, Wisconsin.
“I was to make a political address, and the opera-house was crowded.
When it came time to begin, the mayor got up.
“‘Mine friends,’ he said, ‘I hafe asked been to introduce Senator
Spooner, who is to make a speech, yes. Veil, I haf dit so, und he vill
now do so.’”
* * * * *
The “Outlook,” of New York, tells a story of two church workers from a
small town who came to New York on a slum hunt, and were more than
satisfied. One of them was asked by a friend, on her return, where she
and her husband had been. “In the slums of New York for a day and a
night,” she answered, enthusiastically. “My dear, it was hell upon
earth. We had a _splendid_ time!”
* * * * *
On one occasion a schoolmaster was very much annoyed by the conduct of
a certain boy in his class. At last, finding the culprit giggling for
no apparent reason, he cried indignantly, “Now, then, W., what are you
laughing at? Are you laughing at me?” “No, sir,” replied the
astonished boy. “Then I don’t see what else there is to laugh at,”
came the reply.
* * * * *
“Good by, Jessie!”
“Good by, Auntie May. I hope I’ll be a great, big girl before you come
to make us another visit.”
* * * * *
The star pupil arose at the school entertainment to declaim his piece.
“Lend me your ears!” he bawled. “Ha,” sneered the mother of the
opposition but defeated pupil, “that’s Sarah Jane Doran’s boy. He
wouldn’t be his mother’s son if he didn’t want to borrow something.”
* * * * *
“While walking in one of the business thoroughfares of Pittsburg one
year,” says Robert Edeson, “my attention was arrested by a display of
shirts in a haberdasher’s window, which for variety of sunset colors
far excelled a Turner landscape when the sun is red and low, and there
in the window in glaring green type a large sign read, ‘Listen!’”
* * * * *
One of a party of gentlemen left his corner seat in an already crowded
railway car to go in search of something to eat, leaving a rug to
reserve his place. On returning he found that in spite of the rug and
the protests of his fellow passengers, the seat had been usurped by a
woman clad in handsome clothes. With flashing eyes she turned upon
him: “Do you know, sir, that I am one of the directors’ wives?”
“Madam,” he replied, “were you the director’s only wife I should still
protest.”
* * * * *
Mr. C., a distinguished lawyer of Boston, was on his way to Denver to
transact some important business. During the afternoon he noticed, in
the opposite section of the Pullman, a sweet-faced, tired-appearing
woman traveling with four small children. Being fond of children and
feeling sorry for the mother, he soon made friends with the little
ones.
Early the next morning he heard their eager questions and the patient
“Yes, dear,” of the mother as she tried to dress them, and looking
out he saw a small white foot protruding beyond the opposite curtain.
Reaching across the aisle, he took hold of the large toe and began to
recite: “This little pig went to market; this little pig stayed at
home; this little pig had roast beef; this little pig had none; this
little pig cried wee wee all the way home.” The foot was suddenly
withdrawn and a cold, quiet voice said: “That is quite sufficient,
thank you.”
Mr. C. hastily withdrew to the smoker, where he remained until the
train arrived in Denver.
* * * * *
“’Deed I am going to get married,” said little Winnie, the bright
daughter of a tenant on a quiet farm in a quiet county in “The
Northern Neck” of Virginia.
“I don’t believe anybody will have you,” said Miss Mabel, the
landlord’s daughter, teasingly.
“Yes, they will; I’ll make ’em,” said Winnie. “I’m going to get
married and have _five_ children--two of ’em colored,” thoughtfully,
“to do my work.”
* * * * *
A reverend gentleman was addressing a Sunday-school class not long
ago, and was trying to enforce the doctrine that when people’s hearts
were sinful they needed regulating. Taking out his watch, and holding
it up, he said:
“Now, here is my watch; suppose it doesn’t keep good time--now goes
too fast, and now too slow--what shall I do with it?”
“Sell it,” promptly replied a boy.
* * * * *
The high-born dame was breaking in a new footman--stupid but honest.
In her brougham, about to make a round of visits, she found she had
forgotten her bits of pasteboard. So she sent the lout back with
orders to bring some of her cards that were on the mantelpiece in her
boudoir, and put them in his pocket.
Here and there she dropped one and sometimes a couple, until at last
she told Jeames to leave three.
“Can’t do it, mum.”
“How’s that?”
“I’ve only got two left--the ace of spades and the seven of clubs!”
* * * * *
The small son of a certain university professor, whose parents are
deservedly popular for their tact and courteous speech, appeared at
the home of a fellow professor and hesitatingly asked Mrs. X. if he
might look at the parlor rug. Permission was, of course, granted, and
Mrs. X. felt some surprise to see the little fellow stoop over the rug
and stare silently for some half-minute. He straightened himself up
and, meeting her wondering expression, said triumphantly:
“It doesn’t make _me_ sick!”
* * * * *
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.
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.
By-and-by wee Helen tiptoed over to the sofa and leaning over Uncle
Harry softly inquired:
“Feepy?”
“No,” growled Uncle Harry.
“Tired?” ventured Helen.
“No,” said her uncle.
“Sick?” further inquired Helen, with real sympathy in her voice.
“No,” still insisted Uncle Harry.
“Dus’ feel bum, hey?”
And that won the uncle!
* * * * *
A member of the faculty of the University of Wisconsin tells of some
amusing replies made by a pupil undergoing an examination in English.
The candidate had been instructed to write out examples of the
indicative, the subjunctive, the potential, and the exclamatory moods.
His effort resulted as follows:
“I am endeavoring to pass an English examination. If I answer twenty
questions I shall pass. If I answer twelve questions I may pass. God
help me!”
* * * * *
A clergyman was very anxious to introduce some hymn-books into the
church, and arranged with his clerk that the latter was to give out
the notice immediately after the sermon. The clerk, however, had a
notice of his own to give out with reference to the baptism of
infants. Accordingly, at the close of the sermon he arose and
announced that “All those who have children whom they wish to have
baptized please send in their names at once to the clerk.” The
clergyman, who was stone deaf, assumed that the clerk was giving out
the hymn-book notice, and immediately rose and said: “And I should
say, for the benefit of those who haven’t any, that they may obtain
some from the ushers any day from three to four o’clock; the ordinary
little ones at twenty-five cents each, and special ones at fifty
cents.”
* * * * *
Clyde Fitch, the brilliant playwright, said of a jeweled watch that
had been sent him by a Scotch admirer in Peebles:
“A jeweled watch from Peebles. How strangely unexpected! It reminds me
of an open-air performance of ‘As You Like It’ that I once rehearsed.
“I rehearsed this amateur performance in a garden that was overlooked
by a building operation. As my amateurs postured and chanted the
bard’s beautiful lines, bricklayers above us laid bricks, carpenters
planed boards, and masons chipped stones.
“And one afternoon, during a silent pause in our rehearsal, we heard a
voice from the building operation say gravely:
“‘I prithee, malapert, pass me yonder brick.’”
* * * * *
A clergyman who was very popular with his congregation saw a lady
about to call whom he was anxious not to meet. So he said to his
wife:
“I’ll run upstairs, my dear, and escape till she goes away.”
After about an hour he quietly tiptoed to the stair landing and
listened. All was quiet below. Reassured, he began to descend, and
called out over the balustrade:
“Well, my dear, you got rid of that old bore at last?”
The next instant a voice from below rooted him to the spot. It was the
voice of the caller! Then came a response which sounded inexpressibly
sweet to him. It was the voice of his wife:
“Yes, dear, she went away over an hour ago; but here is our good
friend, Mrs. Blank, whom I am sure you want to meet.”
* * * * *
A lady and her little daughter were walking through a fashionable
street when they came to a portion of the street strewn with straw, so
as to deaden the noise of vehicles passing a certain house.
“What’s that for, ma?” said the child, to which the mother replied,
“The lady who lives in that house, my dear, has had a little baby girl
sent her.” The child thought a moment, looked at the quantity of
straw, and said: “Awfully well packed, wasn’t she, ma?”
* * * * *
A politician, upon his arrival at one of the small towns in North
Dakota, where he was to make a speech the following day, found that
the two so-called hotels were crowded to the doors.
Not having telegraphed for accommodations, the politician discovered
that he would have to make shift as best he could.
He was compelled for that night to sleep on a wire cot which had only
some blankets and a sheet on it. As the statesman is a fat man, he
found his improvised bed anything but comfortable.
“Well,” asked a friend, when the politician appeared in the
dining-room in the morning, “how did you sleep?”
“Oh, fairly well,” replied the statesman, nonchalantly, “but I looked
like a waffle when I got up.”
* * * * *
William Waldorf Astor, before he set out for his English home, said,
apropos of the Russo-Japanese War: “Nations engaged in war not only
harm each other, but they lay themselves open to harm at the hands of
all sorts of other nations. In fact, two nations at war are in the
defenseless and gullible position of a certain English married couple.
“This couple will fall out and cease to speak to one another for a
year or more at a time. They have a beautiful country house, and there
is a certain elderly matron, a great bore, who visits them
continually. Some one asked this matron which of the pair was always
inviting her. She answered, frankly, ‘Neither invites me ever, but
since they don’t speak to each other, each always thinks I am the
other’s guest.’”
* * * * *
They were talking over the carelessness of well-to-do people who, by
overlooking their small bills, frequently bring disaster upon the
tradesmen who are trying to do business on a small capital.
“It sometimes happens that these poor devils have two or three times
the amount of their capital out in bills that if paid promptly would
make their commercial ways a path of roses,” said the economist.
“Little bills of three, four, and five dollars, not much in
themselves, mount up high in the aggregate, and it sometimes happens
that a seeming prosperity, through the failure of a lot of customers
to pay their bills within a reasonable time, results in ruin.
“And yet,” said the reminiscencer, “it sometimes works the other way.
I heard a story in England once of a harness dealer who on entering
his shop one afternoon, after an absence of several hours, noticed
that a rather handsome saddle that he had had in stock had
disappeared. He made immediate inquiry of his salesmen, and one of
them informed him that he had sold it to a gentleman who had come to
the shop with his trap, that the purchaser had thrown it into his
wagon and driven off, after telling him to charge it. Unfortunately,
however, he had forgotten to ask the gentleman’s name, and all effort
to identify him by description failed.
“‘Well,’ said the shopkeeper, who was an ingenious man, ‘there is only
one thing left to be done. We will charge the saddle up on all our
outstanding accounts. Those who did not buy the saddle will, of
course, call our attention to our error, and the man who did take it
will, of course, pay.”
“This method was adopted, and at the beginning of the next month the
bills were sent out accordingly. Two weeks later the saddler
approached his cashier, and asked if he had heard as yet about the
matter. ‘How about that missing saddle, Marcus?’ he asked. ‘We are
doing very well, sir,’ replied the cashier. ‘Forty of our customers
have paid for it, and only two have discovered the mistake.’”
* * * * *
The story is told of a young Oregon girl, a favorite in society, but
who was poor and had to take care not to get her evening gowns soiled,
as their number was limited. At a dance not long ago a great, big,
red-faced, perspiring man came in and asked her to dance. He wore no
gloves. She looked at the well-meaning moist hands despairingly, and
thought of the immaculate back of her waist. She hesitated a bit, and
then she said, with a winning smile:
“Of course I will dance with you, but if you don’t mind, won’t you
please use your handkerchief?”
The man looked at her blankly a moment or two. Then a light broke over
his face.
“Why, certainly,” he said.
And he pulled out his handkerchief and blew his nose.
* * * * *
Willie finally persuaded his aunt to play train with him. The chairs
were arranged in line and then he said:
“Now, you be engineer and I’ll be the conductor. Lend me your watch
and get up into your cab.” He then hurried down the platform,
timepiece in hand.
“Pull out there, you red-headed, pie-faced jay,” he shouted to the
astonished young woman.
“Why, Willie,” she exclaimed in amazement.
“That’s right, chew the rag,” he retorted. “Pull out. We’re five
minutes late already.”
They have had to forbid his playing down by the tracks.
* * * * *
Andrew Lang once wrote to Israel Zangwill to ask him to take part in
an author’s reading for the benefit of a charity, and received in
reply the following laconic message: “If A. Lang will--I. Zangwill.”
* * * * *
Mr. Peet, a rather diffident man, was unable to prevent himself from
being introduced one evening to a fascinating young lady, who,
misunderstanding his name, constantly addressed him as Mr. Peters,
much to the gentleman’s distress. Finally, summoning courage, he
bashfully but earnestly remonstrated:
“Oh, don’t call me Peters; call me Peet!”
“Ah, but I don’t know you well enough, Mr. Peters,” said the young
lady, blushing as she playfully withdrew behind her fan.
* * * * *
Senator Tillman, of South Carolina, tells of a little girl whose
statements were always exaggerated until she became known in school
and Sunday-school as a “little liar.” Her parents were dreadfully
worried about her, and made strenuous efforts to correct the bad
habit. One afternoon her mother overheard an argument with her
playmate. Willie Bangs, who seemed to finish the discussion by saying
emphatically: “I’m older than you, ’cause my birthday comes first, in
May, and yours don’t come until September.”
“Oh, of course your birthday comes first,” sneeringly answered little
Nellie; “but that is ’cause you came down first. I remember looking at
the angels when they were making you.”
“Come here, Nellie; come here instantly,” cried her mother. “It is
breaking mother’s heart,” said she, “to hear you tell such awful
stories. Remember what happened to Ananias and Sapphira, don’t you?”
“Oh, yes, mama, I know. They were struck dead for lying. I saw them
carried into the corner drugstore.”
* * * * *
The relationship between Mr. Gladstone and his wife was one of the
most beautiful the world has known, and of all the millions who looked
up to him, she was his greatest admirer. On one occasion when Mrs.
Gladstone was entertaining visitors, conversation turned on the Bible,
and there was a lively argument on the meaning of a certain passage.
Presently one of the callers, hoping to end the discussion, remarked
devoutly:
“There is One alone who knows all.”
The cloud vanished from Mrs. Gladstone’s face and she smiled sunnily
as she said:
“Yes, and William will be down in a few minutes.”
* * * * *
Mabel (testing the wisdom of the grown-ups).--“Well, how did Martin
Luther die?”
Uncle Jim.--“Die? Oh, in the ordinary way, I suppose.”
Mabel.--“Oh, Uncle! you really don’t know anything. He was
excommunicated by a bull.”
* * * * *