things."
HAPPY--"How's that?"
HENRY--"He says he painted his greatest masterpiece on an empty
stomach."
_Impressionistic_
Whistler once undertook to get a fellow artist's work into the autumn
salon. He succeeded, and the picture was hung. But the painter, going
to see his masterpiece with Whistler on varnishing day, uttered an
exclamation of dismay.
"Good Heavens!" he cried, "you're exhibiting my picture upside down."
"Hush!" said Whistler. "The committee refused it the other way."
"If you do good work, your work will grow after you are gone."
"That's a fact. Rubens left only some 2,000 pictures, but there are
10,000 of his pictures in circulation now."
"Luxurious tastes Richleigh has. He has a Corot in his office."
"That's nothing! I have a whistler in mine."
Two ladies, each with her child, visited the Chicago Art Museum. As
they passed the "Winged Victory" the little boy exclaimed: "Huh! She
ain't got no head." "Sh!" the horrified little girl replied, "That's
art; she don't need none!"
One of those country gentlemen who owns a farm in Brown County, but
lives in Indianapolis and only spends his weekends on the farm, asked
one of his neighbors down in Brown county: "Did you know that T. C.
Steele sold the picture that he painted on your farm?" The farmer made
no reply to this, and then the country gentleman told him the price
Mr. Steele got for the canvas. "I just wish I had known the feller
liked the place well enough to pay that for a picture of it," the
farmer said. "I'd a' sold him the farm for $200 less than that."
ARTIST--"Now, here's a picture--one of my best, too--I've just
finished. When I started out I had no idea what it was going to be."
FRIEND--"After you got through, how did you find out what it was?"
Bessie is a bright one. The other day her teacher set her and her
schoolmates to drawing, letting them choose their own subjects. After
the teacher had examined what the other children had drawn, she took
up Bessie's sheet.
"Why, what's this?" she said. "You haven't drawn anything at all,
child."
"Please, teacher, yes, I have," returned Bessie. "It's a war-picture-a
long line of ammunition-wagons at the front. You can't see 'em 'cause
they're camouflaged."
"Mark Twain was visiting H.H. Rogers," said a New York editor. "Mr.
Rogers led the humorist into his library.
"'There,' he said as he pointed to a bust of white marble. 'What do
you think of that?' It was a bust of a young woman coiling her hair-a
graceful example of Italian sculpture. Mr. Clemens looked and then he
said:
"'It isn't true to nature."
"'Why not?' Mr. Rogers asked.
"'She ought to have her mouth full of hairpins,' said the humorist."
_See also_ Futurist art.
ASTRONOMY
FINNEGAN--"Oh, yis, Oi can undershtand how thim astronomers can
calkilate th' distance av a shtarr, its weight, and dinsity and color
and all thot--but th' thing thot gets me is, how th' divvle do they
know its _name_."
I think the stars do nod at me,
But not when people are about;
For they regard me curiously
Whenever I go out.
Brothers, what is it ye mean,
What is it ye try to say.
That so earnestly ye lean
From the spirit to the clay?
I may have been a star one day,
One of the rebel host that fell,
And they are nodding down to say.
Come back to us from hell.
AUTHORS
A clever author is one who never asks what they are saying when he is
told that everybody is talking about his latest book.
The wife of a successful young literary man had hired a buxom Dutch
girl to do the housework. Several weeks passed and from seeing her
master constantly about the house, the girl received an erroneous
impression.
"Ogscuse me, Mrs. Blank," she said to her mistress one day, "but I
like to say somedings."
"Well, Rena?"
The girl blushed, fumbled with her apron, and then replied, "Veil, you
pay me four tollars a veek--"
"Yes, and I really can't pay you any more."
"It's not dot," responded the girl; "but I be villing to take tree
tollars till--till your husband gets vork."
Kate Douglas Wiggin's choicest possession, she says, is a letter
which she once received from the superintendent of a home for the
feeble-minded. He spoke in glowing terms of the pleasure with which
the "inmates" had read her little book, "Marm Lisa," and ended thus
superbly:
"In fact, madam, I think I may safely say that you are the favorite
author of the feeble-minded!"
Harold Jenks, a syndicate editor of Denver, was talking about the low
rates paid by the magazines.
"They who write for newspaper syndicates, where their work appears
simultaneously in forty or fifty newspapers all over the country,"
said Mr. Jenks, "make a good deal of money. Of course, the magazine
writer, beside such men, isn't one, two, three.
"A seedy magazine writer dropped in on me this morning to borrow a
quarter. As he left, he said:
"'Jenks, old man, the difference between a hen and a magazine writer
is this--while they both scratch for a living, the hen gets hers.'"
_Consolation_
"How did your novel come out?"
"Well," replied the self-confident man, "it proved beyond all doubt
that it isn't one of these trashy best-sellers."
The late Ambassador Walter Hines Page was formerly editor of The
World's Work and, like all editors, was obliged to refuse a great many
stories. A lady once wrote him:
"_Sir_: you sent back last week a story of mine. I know that you did
not read the story, for as a test I had pasted together pages 18, 19,
and 20, and the story came back with these pages still pasted; and so
I know you are a fraud and turn down stories without reading same."
Mr. Page wrote back:
"_Madame_: At breakfast when I open an egg I don't have to eat the
whole egg to discover it is bad."
The great novelist summoned his publisher to his luxurious home.
"Have your salesmen," he asked, "prepared for their semi-annual trip
among the down-trodden booksellers?"
"They have."
"Has your publicity man written the usual biographical notices and
arranged for a series of dinners in my honor?"
"He has."
"Have your great minds selected a title for my forthcoming work?"
"Indeed, yes."
"Then what do you want me to write about?"
The publisher drew from his pocket a paper.
"Here is a wonderful plot," he replied. "It has every element--maudlin
sentiment, mystery, touches of your characteristic humor, profound
insight--everything."
The great author was conservative. He had had experience.
"I haven't time to read it just now," he said. "But are you sure? How
do you know that it is any good?"
"Good!" exclaimed the publisher. "Of course it is good. Why, my dear
sir, it has met with the unqualified approval of every member of our
motion-picture department."
THE PUBLISHER--"How are you going to introduce accurate local color in
your new story of life in Thibet? You've never been there."
THE EMINENT AUTHOR--"Neither has any of my public."--_Judge_.
"So you got your poem printed?"
"Yes," replied the author. "I sent the first stanza to the editor of
the Correspondence Column with the inquiry, 'Can anyone give me the
rest of this poem?' Then I sent in the complete poem over another
name!"
"Ye think a fine lot of Shakespeare?"
"I do, sir," was the reply.
"An' ye think he was mair clever than Rabbie Burns?"
"Why, there's no comparison between them."
"Maybe, no; but ye tell us it was Shakespeare who wrote 'Uneasy lies
the head that wears a crown.' Now, Rabbie would never hae sic nonsense
as that."
"Nonsense, sir!" thundered the other.
"Ay, just nonsense. Rabbie would hae kent fine that a king or queen
either disna ganga to bed wi' a croon on their head. He'd hae kent
they hang it over the back o' a chair."
HOSTESS--"I sometimes wonder, Mr. Highbrow, if there is anything
vainer than you authors about the things you write."
HIGHBROW--"There is, madam; our efforts to sell them."
"No," said the honest man, "I was never strong at literature. To save
my life I could not tell you who wrote 'Gray's Elegy.'"
HENLEY--"How are you getting on with your writing for the magazines?"
PENLEY--"Just holding my own. They send me back as much as I send
them."
Wouldn't it be pleasant if so many authors didn't:
Let their characters converse for hours without any identification
tags, so that you have to turn back three pages and number off odd
speeches in order to find out who's talking.
Overwork the "smart" atmosphere, the suspension points and the
seasonal epidemics of such words as "gripping," "virile," "intrigue,"
"gesture," etc.
Stick up a periscope every now and then, like, "Little did he think
how dearly this trifling error was to cost him," or "She was to meet
this man again, under strange circumstances."
Apply a large hunk of propaganda, like an ice bag, just where the plot
ought to rush ahead.
EDITOR--"Historically, this story is incorrect."
AUTHOR--"But hysterically it is one of the best things I have ever
done."
A man who was a great admirer of Mark Twain was visiting in Hannibal,
Mo. He asked the darkey who was driving him about if he knew where
Huckleberry Finn lived. "No sah, I never heard of the gemmen." Then
he said "Then perhaps you knew Tom Sawyer?" "No, sah, I never met the
gemmen." "But surely you have heard of Puddin'head Wilson?" "Yes, sah,
I've never met him, but I've voted for him twice."
AUTHORSHIP
TED--"I was tempted to read his book by the advertisements, but I was
disappointed."
NED--"That's only natural. The advertisements are better written than
the book."
AUTOMOBILE TOURISTS
"Why do you turn out for every road hog that comes along?" said the
missus, rather crossly. "The right of way is ours, isn't it?"
"Oh, undoubtedly!" answered he, calmly. "As for our turning out,
the reason is plainly suggested in this epitaph which appeared in a
newspaper recently:
"Here lies the body of William Jay,
Who died maintaining his right of way;
He was right, dead right, as he sped along,
But he's just as dead as if he'd been wrong."
A motorist had been haled into court, and when his name was called the
judge asked what the charges were against the prisoner.
"Suspicious actions, your Honor," answered the policeman who had made
the arrest.
"Suspicious actions?" queried his Honor "What was he doing that seemed
suspicious?"
"Well," replied the officer, "he was running within the speed limit,
sounding his horn properly, and trying to keep on the right side of
the street, so I arrested him."
"What kind of a time is he having on his motor-trip?"
"Guess he's having a pretty lively time. He sent me a picture
post-card of a hospital."
A tourist was just emerging from a corn-field by the roadside, bearing
in his arms a dozen handsome roasting ears. A second car approached
and stopped, whereon the tourist reached for his pocketbook and asked
in an embarrassed manner, "How much?"
"One dollar," said the newcomer, and then, after receiving payment,
remarked, "This is a fine field of corn. Wonder who it belongs to?"
AUTOMOBILES AND AUTOMOBILING
"Has this car got a speedometer?" asked an old gentleman to the
auctioneer, at one of the Disposal Board sales. The auctioneer
was equal to the occasion and replied: "At thirty miles an hour it
exhibits a white flag, at forty miles a red flag, and at fifty miles
a gramophone begins to play, 'I'm going to be an angel, and with the
angels dwell'"
"Remember, son, Garfield drove mules on a tow-path and Lincoln split
rails."
"I know, dad; but say, did any of these Presidents ever crank a cold
motor in a blizzard for half an hour before he discovered that he
didn't have any gasoline?"
The time to buy a used car is just before you move, so people in the
new neighborhood will think you were the one who used it.
"I understand that you have a new motor-car."
"Yes."
"Do you drive it yourself?"
"Nobody drives it. We coax it."
"We deny ourselves much. I am saving to build a house."
"Is your wife cheerful about it?"
"Oh, yes. She thinks we're saving for an automobile."
SHE--"Tell me, is an F.O.B. Detroit a reliable car?"
"I have never owned any automobiles," said the man who hadn't yet paid
for his home, "but I can say one thing in praise of them."
"What is that?" inquired Henderson.
"They have made mortgages respectable."--_Judge_.
"I see Smith is building a garage. When did he get a car?"
"He hasn't got one yet, but he's got an option on ten gallons of
gasoline."
An irate customer complained to her butcher about finding pieces of
rubber in the sausage meat and demanded an explanation. The butcher
said, "It is only another proof of how the automobile is taking the
place of the horse."
"Hello, old top. New car?"
"No! Old car, new top."
A farmer was recently arguing with a French chauffeur, who had
slackened up at an inn, regarding the merits of the horse and the
motor-car.
"Give me a 'orse," remarked the farmer; "them traveling oil-shops is
too uncertain fer my likin'."
"Eet is prejudice, my friend." the chauffeur replied; "you Engleesh
are behind ze times; you will think deefairent some day."
"Behind the times be blowed!" came the retort; "p'r'aps nex' time the
Proosians are round Paris and you have to git your dinner off a steak
from the 'ind wheel of a motor-car, you Frenshmen'll wish you wasn't
so bloomin' well up-to-date!"
"What does autosuggestion mean?" asked Pringle.
"That's when your wife begins to figure out how much you would save in
car-fare, and all that, if you had your own machine," replied Teggard,
who had been worked just that way.
An automobile show is a place to which car owners go to hear the
exhibitors confirm their judgment.
"I've stopped riding horseback and got a second-hand car."
"Need more exercise?"
"I suppose you think I'm foolish enough to buy that broken-down old
automobile!"
"Broken-down nothing! With the exception of a busted drive-shaft,
a cracked crank-case, a loose steering-wheel, a bum battery, a
dilapidated differential and faulty ignition, it is just as good as
new. Outside of buying four sets of tires, three new springs, a new
top, two rear axles, a couple of batteries, having the valves ground
sixteen times, the clutch tightened every week and the self-starter
repaired now and then, I have never spent one cent for repairs.
The old boat hasn't been run a mile over one hundred thousand, will
average fourteen gallons to the mile, and absolutely will not exceed
twenty-five miles an hour. It has an extra-fine new coat of paint,
and is fully equipped with a hand pump and switch-key. Because of the
difficulty in shifting gears, I absolutely guarantee your wife will
never be able to drive it, and--"
"Never mind the rest. I'll take it!"
"I thought you owned an automobile."
"I do, but I taught the wife to drive it, and now I'm back to the
street-cars."
"Say, Rastus, I done see de funniest thing t'day."
"How come, niggah?"
"I seed an ottermobile with its reah license B--4."
"Say, bo, doan hand me no truck lak that."--_Judge_.
The only trouble with a 60-horse-power motor is that every darned
horse balks at the same time.
BILL--"Just happened to run into an old friend down-town."
PHIL--"Was he glad to see you?"
BILL--"You bet not. I smashed his whole right fender."
"My brother bought a motor here last week," said an angry man to the
salesman that stepped up to greet him, "and he said if anything broke
you would supply him with new parts."
"Certainly," said the salesman. "What does he want?"
"He wants two deltoid muscles, a couple of kneecaps, one elbow, and
about half a yard of cuticle," said the man, "and he wants them at
once."
An elderly lady of very prim and severe aspect was seated next a young
couple, who were discussing the merits of their motor-cars.
"What color is your body?" asked the young man of the girl at his
side, meaning of course, the body of her motor.
"Oh, mine is pink. What is yours?"
"Mine," replied the man, "is brown with wide yellow stripes."
This was too much for the old lady. Rising from the table, she
exclaimed:
"When young people come to asking each other the color of their bodies
at a dinner-party, it is time I left the room."
"Why didn't you stop when I signaled you?" inquired the officer.
"Well," replied Mr. Chuggins, "it had taken me two hours to get this
old flivver started, and it seemed a shame to stop her merely to avoid
a little thing like being arrested."
_Who Can Tell?_
Dear Sirs,--About the engine. Well,
We write to let you know
We've waded through the booklet on
"What Makes the Engine Go."
It took us close on half a day
To read through all the guff;
The engine goes all right, but don't
Keep goin' long enough.
It's very good to understand
What makes the engine go.
But why the deuce the d--- thing stops
Is what we want to know.
So now we're making this request,
While tears and curses drop,
Please send along a booklet on
What Makes the Engine Stop.
The folk around here all await
With interest your reply:
To them the reasons why she goes
Don't seem to signify.
So while we wait and chew the cud
Don't let the matter flop;
For Gawd's sake write and let us know
What makes the blighter stop.
_See also_ Fords; Garages; Horses; Reputation.
AVIATION
TOMMY (to Aviator)--"What is the most deadly poison known?"
AVIATOR--"Aviation poison."
TOMMY--"How much does it take to kill a person?"
AVIATOR--"One drop!"
ENTHUSIASTIC AVIATOR (after long explanation of principle and workings
of his biplane)--"Now, you understand it, don't you?"
YOUNG LADY--"All but one thing."
AVIATOR--"And that is--?"
YOUNG LADY--"What makes it stay up?"
ENTHUSIAST--"Don't the spectators tire you with the questions they
ask?"
AVIATOR--"Yes. What else do you want to know?"
MANDY--"Rastus, you all knows dat yo' remind me of dem dere flyin'
machines?"
RASTUS--"No, Mandy, how's dat?"
MANDY--"Why becays youse no good on earth."
BACHELORS
It is a safe guess that the man who pokes fun at a woman for shopping
all day and not buying anything isn't married.
MADGE--"You shouldn't say he's a confirmed bachelor unless you know."
MARJORIE--"But I do know; I confirmed him."
It is admitted that married men have better halves but it is claimed
that bachellors generally have better quarters.
BAGGAGE
TOMMY (just off train, with considerable luggage)--"Cabby, how much is
it for me to Latchford?"
CABBY--"Two shillings, sir."
TOMMY--"How much for my luggage?"
CABBY--"Free, sir."
TOMMY--"Take the luggage, I'll walk."
BALDNESS
BALD HEADED GUEST--"Well, sonny, what is it that amuses you?"
YOUNG HOPEFUL--"Nothing; only mother has put a brush and comb in your
bedroom."
SCEPTIC--"If you have such an infallible remedy for baldness, why
don't you use it?"
SUBTLE BARBER (very bald)--"Ah, sir, I sacrifice my appearance to
bring 'ome to clients the 'orror of 'airlessness."--_Punch_.
"That bald-headed man who just went out is the greatest optimist I
ever met," said the druggist.
"That so?" asked the customer.
"Yes," replied the druggist. "When I guaranteed my hair restorer he
bought a bottle, and bought a comb and brush because he felt sure he'd
need them in a few days."
Two traveling men, who had not met in several years, were condoling
with each other on their increasing baldness.
"Well," said Jones, "one comfort is that it's only brain workers who
lose their hair."
"Yes," Smith answered, "only thinkers ever become bald. Isn't that so,
Sam?" appealing to the porter.
"Well, I dunno 'bout dat," the darky replied. "My granddad said dat an
empty bahn doan need no cover."
BANKS AND BANKING
Before the passage of the present strict banking laws in Wisconsin,
starting a bank was a comparatively simple proposition. The
surprizingly small amount of capital needed is well illustrated by the
story a prosperous country-town banker told on himself, when asked how
he happened to enter the banking business:
"Well," he said, "I didn't have much else to do, so I rented an empty
store building and painted BANK on the window. The first day I was
open for business a man came in and deposited a hundred dollars with
me; the second day another man dropped in and deposited two hundred
and fifty; and so, by George, along about the third day I got
confidence enough in the bank to put in a hundred myself!"
A negro bank was opened in a small town in Georgia, and Sam deposited
ten dollars. Several weeks later he returned to draw out his
money. When he presented his check the colored cashier looked at it
doubtfully and said: "Sam, you ain't got any money in dis here bank,
but I'll look on de books an' make sure." In a minute he came back and
said: "Yes, you did have ten dollars; but, nigger, de interes' done
eat up dat money."
"Father," said Nellie, "that bank in which you told me to put my money
is in a bad way."
"In a bad way?" returned her father. "Why, my child, that's one of
the strongest banks in the country. What in the world gives you that
idea?"
"Well," said Nellie, "it returned one of my checks today for $30
marked 'No funds.'"
A Buffalo man stopped a newsboy in New York saying: "See here, son, I
want to find the Blank National Bank. I'll give you half a dollar if
you direct me to it."
With a grin, the boy replied: "All right, come along," and he led the
man to a building a half-block away.
The man paid the promised fee, remarking, however, "That was a
half-dollar easily earned."
"Sure!" responded the lad. "But you mustn't fergit that bank-directors
is paid high in Noo Yawk."
HE--"We'll have to give up our intended summer trip. My account at the
bank is already overdrawn."
SHE--"Oh, John, you are such a wretched financier. Why don't you keep
your account in a bank that has plenty of money?"
A Hebrew by the name of Cohen went into a bank one day and asked the
cashier to discount his note. The bank cashier said:
"Mr. Cohen, I can't discount that note unless you get some one you
know, a responsible man, to indorse it."
Cohen said to the cashier: "You know me, und you're responsible; you
indorse it."
BAPTISM
"You don't know me, do you, Bobby?" asked a lady who had recently been
baptized.
"Sure I do," piped the youth. "You're the lady that went in swimming
with the preacher last Sunday."
Little Edward's twin sisters were being christened. All went well
until Edward saw the water in the font. Then he anxiously turned to
his mother and exclaimed: "Ma, which one are you going to keep?"
Throughout the christening ceremony the baby smiled up beautifully
into the clergyman's face.
"Well, madam," said he to the young wife, "I must congratulate you on
your little one's behavior. I have christened more than 2,000 babies,
but I never before christened one that behaved so well as yours."
The young mother smiled demurely, and said:
"His father and I, with a pail of water, have been practising on him
for the last ten days."
"Tommy," said the Sunday-school teacher, who had been giving a lesson
on the baptismal covenant, "can you tell me the two things necessary
to baptism?"
"Yes'm," said Tommy, "water and a baby."
In a small country church, not long since a little child was brought
forward for baptism. The young minister, taking the little one in his
arms, spoke as follows:
"Beloved hearers, no one can foretell the future of this little child.
He may grow up to be a great astronomer, like Sir Isaac Newton, or a
great labor leader like John Burns; and it is possible he might become
the prime minister of England."
Turning to the mother, he inquired, "What is the name of the child?"
"Mary Ann," was the reply.
BAPTISTS
The mayor of a tough border town is about to engage a preacher for the
new church.
"Parson, you aren't by any chance a Baptist, are you?"
"Why, no, not necessarily. Why?"
"Well, I was just agoin' to say we have to haul our water twelve
miles."
BARGAINS
A thin, anemic woman was accosted by her friend on the street: "Why,
Mary, how pale and thin you look! I thought you were going south for
your health."
"I was," said Mary, "but my doctor has offered me such a lovely
bargain in operations--a major operation for one thousand dollars--and
of course I can't resist that."
"How much vas dose collars?"
"Two for a quarter."
"How much for vun?"
"Fifteen cents."
"Giff me de odder vun."
"Ikey," said the teacher, "can you give me a definition for 'a
bargain'?"
"Sure I can," smiled Ikey. "A bargain's when you get the best of
them."
Dad was not greatly pleased by the school report brought to him by his
hopeful.