Drew himself up to his full height again,
And said, ‘It grieved him, but he could not stoop
To any shoe, unless it shod the Pope.’”
Finally the matter was compromised by kissing the hand, the proud
Castilian promptly acknowledging the requirement of a common courtesy:
“For through the South the custom still commands
The gentleman to kiss the lady’s hands.”
Sir R. K. Porter, the Eastern traveller, tells the readers of his
interesting sketches of a Persian who was not only not so fastidious,
but ludicrously otherwise in the depth of his self-abasement. Says Sir
Robert, “I took a lancet out of my pocket-book, put it into his hands,
and told him it was for himself. He looked at me, and at it, with his
mouth open, as if he hardly comprehended the possibility of my parting
with such a jewel. But when I repeated the words, ‘It is yours,’ he threw
himself on the ground, kissed my knees and my feet, and wept with a joy
that stifled his expression of thanks.”
ALL-EMBRACING INCLUSION.
In that old-fashioned youthful game, “Kiss in the Ring,” a favorite
manœuvre of some of the boys was to keep out of a place in the ring till
they had kissed all the pretty girls in succession. Those who grow up
with the same fondness for osculatory attentions would probably like
the custom in some parts of Germany, which requires a young man who is
engaged to a girl to salute, upon making his adieu for the evening,
the whole of the family, beginning with the mother. Thus, in a family
circle embracing half a dozen girls, each having a lover, no less
than forty-eight kisses would have to be given on the occasion of a
united meeting; and when we consider that each lover would give his own
sweetheart ten times as many kisses as he gave her sisters, the grand
total would outnumber a hundred!
A KISS IN THE DARK.
In Buckstone’s very amusing farce, “A Kiss in the Dark,” the jealous
Pettibone tries a foolish stratagem in order to confirm his unjust
suspicions of Mrs. P.’s constancy:
_Frank_ (_reading note_). “Continue your attentions.” Certainly, as you
request it. (_Draws close to her; PETTIBONE again darts in; they retreat
as before._)
_Pettibone._ Shan’t go out at all—I tell you I shan’t go out at
all—to-morrow will do. (_Sits in centre._) You’ve done as I bid you, I
see—eh?—ah, ah, ah! (_Aside._) I think the last time I left the room he
kissed her! I could almost swear I heard the squeak of a little kiss.
Oh, if I could be convinced! I’ll conceal my feelings till I’m _quite_
satisfied—_quite_ sure; and then——Betsey, dear, if that note you were
writing just now is for any one in the city, I’ll leave it for you.
_Mrs. P._ No, no, thank you, it is not worth the trouble, and you
wouldn’t be so mean as to defraud the revenue of a penny.
_Pet._ How they look at each other! I’ve a great mind to jump up and
tell ’em both how they’ve deceived me. No, I won’t. I’ll set a trap for
them—show ’em what they are: ah! a good thought—I have it.
_Mrs. P._ Selim, what’s the matter with you, this evening?
_Pet._ Nothing; I’ve been vexed,—city business. I think, as I have a
moment to spare, I’ll drop a note to the wine merchant about the empty
bottles (_takes inkstand to a table_): he ought to fetch ’em away, or I
shall be charged for ’em. What horrid candles! (_Snuffs one out._) Why
did I go to the expense of a handsome lamp, when you will burn candles?
(_In trying to light it he purposely extinguishes the other; stage dark._)
_Mrs. P._ P., dear, how clumsy you are!
_Pet._ Sit still—I’ll get a light; Mary’s cooking—I’ll get a light.
(_He pours some ink on his pocket-handkerchief, and in passing MRS. P.,
contrives to leave a large patch on her nose._)
_Mrs. P._ P., what are you doing?
_Pet._ Nothing, dear, nothing; sit still. I’ll fetch a light.
[_Exit._
_Frank._ Is it really your wish that I should continue my attentions?
(_Getting close to her._) Gad, she’s a fine woman, and I never in my life
could be in the dark with one, without giving her a kiss; and, encouraged
as I am, who could resist?
[_Attempts to kiss her._
_Mrs. P._ Don’t, don’t; I won’t allow it; how can you be so foolish?
(_Kisses her, and blacks his nose._) Go away: here’s P. (_Lights up;
FRANK returns to his chair as P. enters, stands between them moonstruck
at seeing FRANK’S face; he trembles, places one candle on the table, and
seizes MRS. P.’S arm._)
_Pet._ Woman, look at that man—look at his nose. Now go to your room—to
the glass, and look at your own! come, madam, come.
[_He drags her off._
_Frank._ Very strange conduct; however, my poor friend is severely
punished for the pains he has taken to test his wife’s constancy....
In the _dénouement_ the position of Mrs. P. and Frank is explained:
_Pet._ Not Betsey!—the lady I’ve pulled about so—not Betsey! Who are
you, madam? Explain, before I faint away—who are you?
_Frank._ That lady, sir, is my wife. (_FRANK and LADY embrace._)
_Pet._ Your wife! and really you are not going to elope?—you are still
your own Pettibone’s?—but that kiss in the dark, madam! what can remove
that stain?
_Mrs. P._ My candid confession——
_Pet._ Of what?
_Mrs. P._ That I overheard the test by which I was to be tried, and,
knowing in my heart that I did not deserve such a trial, I was resolved,
as you had thought proper to suspect me without a cause, for once to give
you a reason for your jealousy.
_Pet._ (_on his knees._) Oh, Betsey, forgive me....
* * * * *
The city of Nashville boasts of a smiling-contest, as an adjunct to a
Presbyterian church fair. There were three competitors, young men, and a
judge to decide which of them smiled most sweetly. Three trials were had,
the contestants standing on a platform in full view of the assembly, with
a strong light thrown on their faces. Louis Tillichet was declared the
winner of the prize, which was the privilege of kissing any one of the
girls attending the candy-counter, where the prettiest daughters of the
church were engaged.
* * * * *
A lady asked her little boy, “Have you called your grandma to tea?” “Yes.
When I went to call her she was asleep, and I didn’t wish to halloo at
grandma, nor shake her; so I kissed her cheek, and that woke her very
softly. Then I ran into the hall, and said, pretty loud, ‘Grandma, tea is
ready.’ And she never knew what woke her up.”
A BUDGET OF FACETIÆ.
A Columbia clergyman, who, while preaching a sermon on Sunday evening,
perceived a man and woman under the gallery in the act of kissing each
other behind a hymn-book, did not lose his temper. No! he remained calm.
He beamed mildly at the offenders over his spectacles, and when the young
man kissed her the fifteenth time, he merely broke his sermon short off
in the middle of “thirdly,” and offered a fervent prayer in behalf of
“the young man in the pink neck-tie and the maiden in the blue bonnet
and gray shawl, who were profaning the sanctuary by kissing one another
in pew seventy-eight.” And the congregation said “Amen.” Then the woman
pulled her veil down, and the young man sat there and swore softly to
himself. He does not go to church as much now as he did.
* * * * *
At Boulogne, during the reception of Queen Victoria, some years ago, a
number of English ladies, in their anxiety to see everything, pressed
with such force against the soldiers who were keeping the line that the
latter were forced to give way, and generally were—to use the expression
of policemen—“hindered in the execution of their duty.” The officer in
command, observing the state of affairs, called out, “One roll of the
drum,—if they don’t keep back, kiss them all.” After the first sound of
the drum the ladies took to flight. “If they had been French,” said a
Parisian journal, “they would have remained to a woman.”
* * * * *
The portrait-painter, Gilbert Stuart, once met a lady in Boston, who said
to him, “I have just seen your likeness, and kissed it because it was so
much like you.” “And did it kiss you in return?” said he. “No,” replied
the lady. “Then,” returned the gallant painter, “it was not like me.”
* * * * *
Mary Kyle Dallas says love-making is always awkward. “A stolen kiss, if
seen, creates a laugh; a squeeze of the hand, if detected, is a great
joy. I myself, who claim to be romantic, did grin at a shadow picture
cast upon the wall of the white garden fence, next door, by an envious
gas-light, when I saw the shadow of the young lady with much waterfall
feed the shadow of the young gentleman with no whiskers with sugar-plums
and then kiss it; but the shadows were very black, and took odd crinks in
their noses as they moved to and fro, and that may have been the cause of
my mirth.”
* * * * *
“Oh! your nose is as cold as ice,” a Boston father thought he heard his
daughter exclaim the other evening, as he was reading in the next room.
He walked in for an explanation, but the young fellow was at one end of
the sofa and the girl at the other, while both looked so innocent and
unconscious that the old gentleman concluded that his ears had deceived
him, and so retired from the scene without a word.
* * * * *
A country girl, coming from a morning walk, was told that she looked as
fresh as a daisy kissed by the dew, to which she innocently replied,
“You’ve got my name right, Daisy; but his isn’t Dew.”
* * * * *
SCENE at the Atlantic Telegraph office.
_Fond Wife_ (_to telegraph-operator_). “Oh, sir! I want to send a kiss
to my husband in Liverpool. How can I do it?”
_Obliging Operator._ “Easiest thing in the world, ma’am. You’ve got to
give it to me with ten dollars, and I’ll transmit it right away.”
_Fond Wife._ “If that’s the case, the directors ought to put much younger
and handsomer men in your position.”
(Operator’s indignation is great.)
* * * * *
A young lady of Cincinnati, who had just returned from completing her
education in Boston, wanted to kiss her lover, but her mother objected.
The daughter drew up her queenly form to its full height, and exclaimed,
“Mother, terrible, tragical, and sublimely retributive will be the course
pursued by me, if you refuse to allow him to place his alabaster lips to
mine, and enrapture my immortal soul by imprinting angelic sensations
of divine bliss upon the indispensable members of my human physiognomy,
and then kindly allowing me to take a withdrawal from his beneficent
presence.” The mother feebly admitted that her objections were overruled.
* * * * *
_Mabel._ “Yes! that young man is very fond of kissing.”
_Mater._ “Mabel, who ever told you such nonsense?”
_Mabel._ “I had it from his own lips!”
* * * * *
A Yale student, who is evidently in the “journalistic” department, writes
a twelve-verse poem which is entitled, “We kissed each other by the sea.”
“Well, what of it?” asks a Western journalist: “the seaside is no better
for such practices than any other locality. In fact, we have put in some
very sweet work of that kind on the tow-path of a canal in our time, but
did not say anything about it in print.”
* * * * *
The tender young poet who began, “I kissed her under the silent stars,”
and whom the newspaper to which he sent the poem represented as
beginning, “I kicked her under the cellar-stairs,” appeared before the
editors and publishers assembled in convention at Lockport, New York, and
preferred the request that the name of the room from which typographical
errors emanate might be changed forthwith. He wants it called the
discomposing room.
* * * * *
A young lady of Atlanta says there is no woman living who could
interest her with a lecture on “kisses.” She says that she can get more
satisfaction from the lips of a young man, on a moonlight night, than a
woman could tell in a thousand years. That young lady is posted.
* * * * *
A teacher in De Witt County has introduced a new feature in his school.
When one of the girls misses a word, the boy who spells it gets
permission to kiss her. The result is that the girls are fast forgetting
what they ever knew about spelling, while the boys are improving with
wonderful rapidity.
* * * * *
“Gracious heavens!” exclaimed Mrs. Marrowfat, dropping the paper from
her nerveless grasp, and leaning back in her chair with an expression
of blank astonishment on her countenance, “Gracious heavens, Miltiades,
what a ‘paroxysmal kiss’?” Mr. Marrowfat, assuming a very serious
aspect, observed, “A ‘paroxysmal kiss,’ my love, is a kiss buttered with
soul-lightning.”
* * * * *
“Ma, has aunty got bees in her mouth?” “No; why do you ask such a
question?” “’Cause that leetle man with a heap o’ hair on his face
cotched hold of her, and said he was going to take the honey from her
lips; and she said, ‘Well, make haste!’”
* * * * *
A young lady who was rebuked by her mother for kissing her intended
justified the act by quoting the passage, “Whatsoever ye would that men
should do unto you, do ye even so to them.”
* * * * *
A married man in New Hampshire is said to have adopted an original method
of economy. One morning, recently, when he knew his wife would see him,
he kissed the servant-girl. The house-expenses were instantly reduced
three hundred dollars per year.
* * * * *
“Kissing your sweetheart,” says a trifling young man, “is like eating
soup with a fork: it takes a long time to get enough.”
* * * * *
I saw Esau kissing Kate,
And the fact is we all three saw;
For I saw Esau, he saw me,
And she saw I saw Esau.
* * * * *
Bus—to kiss. Re-bus—to kiss again. Blunderbus—two girls kissing each
other. Omnibus—to kiss all the girls in the room. Bus-ter—a general
kisser. E pluri-bus unum—a thousand kisses in one.
* * * * *
An editor defines a blunderbuss as kissing the wrong girl,—just as though
it were possible to be wrong in kissing any girl. A blunderbuss is for
men to kiss one another, as Frenchmen do, or for girls to kiss one
another, as they often do for want of a man to kiss them.
* * * * *
A young fellow in San Francisco suddenly snatched a kiss from a lady
friend, and excused his conduct by saying that it was a sort of temporary
insanity that now and then came upon him. When he arose to take his leave
the pitying damsel said to him, “If you ever feel any more such fits
coming on, you had better come right here, where your infirmity is known,
and we will take care of you.”
* * * * *
This story is told of an English barrister on his travels. As the coach
was about to start after breakfast, the modest limb of the law approached
the landlady, a pretty Quakeress, who was seated near the fire, and said
he could not think of going without first giving her a kiss. “Friend,”
said she, “thee must not do it.” “Oh, by heavens, I will!” replied the
barrister. “Well, friend, as thou hast sworn, thee may do it; but thee
must not make a practice of it.”
* * * * *
Here is an episode from a Palais Royal farce. A. is making love to C.,
who is B.’s wife, and scents B.’s coat with musk. A. is on the point of
kissing C., when he smells mischief in the air. She waits, expectant of
the embrace; he turns up his nose, snuffs, and changes the tone of his
remark. Tableaux!
* * * * *
The electrical kiss is performed by means of the electrical stool. Let
a lady challenge a gentleman not acquainted with the experiment to give
her a salute. The lady thereupon mounts the glass stool, taking hold of
the chain connected with the prime conductor. The machine then being set
in motion, the gentleman approaches the lady and attempts to imprint the
seal of affection upon her coral lips, when a spark will fly in his face
which effectually checkmates his intentions.
* * * * *
Some of the young men who go to see the girls have adopted a new way of
obtaining kisses. They assert, on the authority of scientific writers,
that the concussion produced by a kiss will cause the flame of a gas-jet
to flicker, and they easily induce the girls to experiment in the
interest of science. At the first kiss or two the parties watch the flame
to see it flicker, but they soon become so interested in the experiments
as to let It flicker if it wants to. Try it yourself.
* * * * *
Nilsson is not above resorting to the little tricks of the stage, when
she thinks they will serve her purpose. A correspondent of the “Arcadian”
says, “One night, at the ‘Italiens’ in Paris, she actually sent a man up
to the top proscenium-box with a quantity of common wall-flowers, which
he was to throw down upon the stage at a given moment. Imagine what a
lovely scene this produced. How sweet and simple was this tribute of the
poor to the august Diva! How pretty it was to see her pick up the common
wall-flowers and kiss them, and then lift her eyes up to the gallery in
sign of eternal gratitude to the gods!”
* * * * *
“Mary, why did you kiss your hand to the gentleman opposite, this
morning?” said a careful mother to her blooming daughter. “Why, the
gentleman had the impudence to throw a kiss clear across the street, and,
of course, I threw it back indignantly! You wouldn’t have encouraged him
by keeping it, would you?”
* * * * *
A beautiful girl stepped into a shop to buy a pair of mittens. “How much
are they?” said she. “Why,” said the gallant but impudent clerk, lost in
gazing upon the sparkling eyes and ruby lips, “you shall have them for a
kiss.” “Very well,” said the lady, pocketing the mittens, while her eyes
spoke daggers; “and, as I see you give credit here, charge it on your
books, and let me know when you collect it.” And she very hastily tripped
out.
* * * * *
A lady residing in Lansingburg hailed a passing car, with her little son,
to see him safely on the horse-car for a trip to Troy. He stepped on
board and scrambled for the front of the car. As he was going, his mother
said, “Why, aren’t you going to kiss your mother before you go?” The
little fellow was so delighted at the prospect of a ride, and in such a
hurry, that he hastily rejoined, looking back excitedly, “Mr. Conductor,
won’t you kiss mother for me?” And of course the passengers couldn’t keep
from smiling.
* * * * *
“My dear,” said an affectionate wife, “what shall we have for dinner
to-day?” “One of your smiles,” replied the husband; “I can dine on that
every day.” “But I can’t,” replied the wife. “Then take this,” and he
gave her a kiss, and went to his business. He returned to dinner. “This
is excellent steak,” said he: “what did you pay for it?” “Why, what you
gave me this morning, to be sure,” replied the wife. “You did!” exclaimed
he; “then you shall have the money next time you go to market.”
* * * * *
The author of the old comedy called “The Kiss” sent a copy, as soon as
published, to a young lady, informing her that he had been wishing for
several months for the opportunity of _giving her a kiss_.
* * * * *
Joseph II., Emperor of Germany, during a visit to Rome, went to see the
princess Santacroce, a young lady of singular beauty, who had an evening
_conversazione_. Next morning appeared the following pasquinade: “Pasquin
asks, ‘What is the Emperor Joseph come to Rome for?’ Marforio answers,
‘Abaciar la Santa Croce’”—to kiss the Holy Cross.
* * * * *
When the court of France waited upon the king on the birth of the Duke
of Burgundy, all were welcomed to kiss the royal hand. The Marquis of
Spinola, in the ardor of respect, bit his majesty’s finger, on which the
king started, when Spinola begged pardon, and said in his defence that if
he had not done so his majesty would not have noticed him.
* * * * *
“Our professor does wonderful things in surgery,” said a young medical
student: “he has actually made a new lip for a boy, taken from his
cheek.” “Ah, well,” said his old aunt, “many’s the time I have known a
pair taken from mine, and no very painful operation either.”
* * * * *
An engaged young gentleman got rather neatly out of a scrape with his
intended. She taxed him with having kissed two young ladies at some
party at which she was not present. He owned it, but said that their
united ages only made twenty-one. The simple-minded girl thought of ten
and eleven, and laughed off her pout. He did not explain that one was
nineteen and the other two years of age! Wasn’t it artful? Just like the
men!
* * * * *
“Pray, Miss Primrose, do you like steamboats?” inquired a gentleman of
a fair friend to whom he was paying his addresses. “Oh! pretty well,”
replied the lady; “but I’m exceedingly fond of a smack.” The lover took
the hint, and impressed a chaste salute on the lips of the blushing
damsel.
* * * * *
“Yes, you may come again next Sunday evening, Horace dear, but”—and she
hesitated. “What is it, darling? Have I given you pain?” he asked, as she
still remained silent. “You didn’t mean to, I’m sure,” she responded,
“but next time please don’t wear one of those collars with the points
turning outward; they scratch so.”
* * * * *
“Come, my little fellow,” said a Washington gentleman to a youngster
of five years while sitting in a parlor where a large company were
assembled, “do you know me?” “Yeth, thir!” “Who am I? Let me hear.” “You
ith the man who kithed mamma when papa wath in New York.” Correct.
* * * * *
Little Katie, standing on a chair before a mirror, and holding her
mother’s elegant hat upon her head, remarks to her father, who is sitting
_tête-à-tête_ with her mother, “Oh, papa, now I know why mamma gets so
many kisses from your cousin Tom; it’s because of the pretty hat she
wears. Don’t I look tempting, though?”
* * * * *
A Milwaukee man hid in a public door-way, and jumped out and kissed his
wife. She didn’t whoop and yell, as he expected, but remarked, “Don’t be
so bold, mister: folks around here know me.”
* * * * *
Mrs. Laing, an Omaha woman, glided softly up behind Kalakaua, King of the
Sandwich Islands, and—stole a kiss! But the joke of the thing is that the
Omaha wags passed off a good-looking negro for the king.
* * * * *
A Binghamton girl offered to let a countryman kiss her for five cents.
“Gad,” exclaimed the bucolic youth, “that’s darn cheap, if a fellow only
had the money.”
* * * * *
A New Orleans minister recently married a colored couple, and at the
conclusion of the ceremony remarked, “On such occasions as this it is
customary to kiss the bride, but in this case we will omit it.” To this
unclerical remark the indignant bridegroom very pertinently replied,
“On such an occasion as this it is customary to give the minister ten
dollars, but in this case we will omit it.”
* * * * *
The accomplished Fitzwiggle propounded this conundrum to the lovely Miss
Sparrowgrass: “What would you be, dearest, if I should press the stamp
of love upon those sealing-wax lips?” “I,” responded the fairy-like
creature, “should be _stationery_.”
* * * * *
Walt Whitman thus used the poetic license in his salute to the White
House bride, the daughter of President Grant, upon the occasion of her
marriage:
“O youth and health! O sweet Missouri rose! O bonny bride!
Yield thy red cheeks, thy lips to-day,
Unto a nation’s loving kiss.”
It was considered, doubtful whether such wholesale osculation would be
satisfactory. Yet, at the same time, the gifted actress, Clara Morris,
upon meeting with an enthusiastic reception in Cleveland, her home,
concluded a speech of grateful appreciation with the tantalizing wish
that Cleveland “had but one mouth, that she might kiss it.”[29]
* * * * *
A party of ladies and gentlemen, on a tour of inspection through Durham
Castle, were escorted by an elderly female of a sour, solemn, and
dignified aspect. In the course of their peregrinations they came to the
tapestry for which the castle is famed. “These,” said the guide, in true
showman style, flavored with a dash of piety to suit the subject, and
pointing to several groups of figures upon the tapestry, “these represent
scenes in the life of Jacob.” “Oh, yes,—how pretty!” said a young lady;
and, with a laugh, pointing to two figures in somewhat close proximity,
she continued, “I suppose that is Jacob kissing Rachel?” “No, madam,”
responded the indignant guide, with crushing dignity, “that is _Jacob
wrestling with the angel_.” Amid a general smile the young lady subsided,
and offered no further expository remarks, but groaned under a sense of
unworthiness during the rest of the visit.
* * * * *
A Carson (California) editor thus speaks of “Climatic Influences:”