A chap who is less confident,
Yet full conceited--selfish, too,
And steeped in ego, through and through.
Though others oft "Myself" decry,
He's very, very dear to "I."
Unlike the other two is "Me";
A timid little fellow, he;
Self-conscious, given oft to erring,
My scorn and pity both incurring.
Still, though he's shy as he can be,
While few like "I," a lot like "Me."
--_Eliot Harlow Robinson_.
Many a man thinks he is anxious to please others, when the truth is
that he is only anxious that others be pleased with what he does.
_I And Me_
I wonder just what kind of guy
Am I?
I guess it's time I took
A look inside of me
To see--
But, gee,
I cuss
I'm envious of what the other fellow's got,
I loaf a lot,
And foolish pleasures often buy--
That is the kind of sham
I am.
When things go wrong
I growl along
And take it out
On some good scout
Who's not to blame,
Whatever came--
In fact
The luck I lacked
(Or luck I had,
If mine was bad)
Was mostly my
Own fault. Why.
I
Am not a very pleasant guy,
The poorest on the human shelf--
And, now that I
Size up myself,
Whatever other folks may see,
I do not make a hit with Me.
--_Douglas Malloch_.
EINSTEIN
"Max has sent me an interesting book, 'Relativity,' by Einstein. Have
you read it?"
"No. I am waiting for it to be filmed."
EMBARRASSING SITUATIONS
The wife of a Dorchester man who had the traditional failing--he
forgot to mail letters--has cured him. The mail is delivered at their
home before the breakfast hour--which is comparatively late. One
morning she said to her husband:
"Did you have any mail this morning, dear?"
"Only a circular," he answered as he bit into a fine brown slice of
toast.
"Huh," said the wife. "By the way, did you mail the letters I gave you
yesterday?"
"Sure I did," was the righteously indignant reply.
"Well," answered wifie, with an eloquent smile, "it's funny, then, you
had no letters this morning, because one of those I gave you to mail
was addressed to you--just as a sort of key."
Callers were at the door and Bobbie was told to show them into the
parlor. He did so, and while his mother was fixing herself up, he
sat there rather embarrassed. Presently, seeing the visitors glancing
around the room, he said:
"Well, what do you think of our stuff, anyway?"
KIND FRIEND (to composer who has just played his newly written _revue_
masterpiece)--"Yes, I've always liked that little thing. Now play one
of your own, won't you?"
Evelyn is very cowardly, and her father decided to have a serious talk
with his little daughter.
"Father," she said at the close of his lecture, "when you see a cow,
ain't you 'fraid?"
"No, certainly not, Evelyn."
"When you see a bumblebee, ain't you 'fraid?"
"No!" with scorn.
"Ain't you 'fraid when it thunders?"
"No," with laughter. "Oh, you silly, silly child!"
"Papa," said Evelyn, solemnly, "ain't you 'fraid of nothing in the
world but mama?"
Afraid to breathe, almost, the returned reveller crept quietly into
his bedchamber as the gray dawn was breaking. Sitting on the edge of
the bed, he cautiously undid his boots. But, with all his care, his
wife stirred in bed, and he presently was all too well aware of a pair
of sleepy eyes regarding him over the edge of the sheet.
"Why, Tom," yawned the little woman, "how early you are this morning!"
"Yes, my dear," replied Tom, stifling a groan, "I've got to go to
Montreal for the firm today."
And replacing his footgear the wretched man dragged his aching limbs
out again into the cold and heartless streets.
A philanthropic New York woman was entertaining, in the spacious
grounds of her suburban residence, a large number of East-Side
children. On her rounds of hospitality she was impressed with one
strikingly beautiful little girl. She could not have been more than
nine years old, but her coal-black eyes flashed with intelligence. The
hostess introduced herself and began a conversation.
"Does what you see here today please you?" she asked. The child eyed
her host in silence.
"Talk away," said the lady. "Don't be afraid."
"Tell me," then said the child, "how many children have you got?"
Astonished at the question, the lady hesitated for a moment, and then
entered into the fun of the situation.
"Ten," she replied.
"Dear me," answered the child, "that is a very large family, I hope
you are careful and look after them. Do you keep them all clean?"
"Well, I do my best."
"And is your husband at work?"
"My husband does not do any kind of work. He never has."
"That is very dreadful," replied the little girl earnestly, "but I
hope you keep out of debt."
The game had gone too far for Lady Bountiful's enjoyment of it.
"You are a very rude and impertinent child," she burst out, "to speak
like that, and to me."
The child became apologetic. "I'm sure I didn't mean to be, ma'am,"
she explained. "But mother told me before I came that I was to be
sure to speak to you like a lady, and when any ladies call on us, they
always ask us those questions."
A gentleman who had married his cook was giving a dinner party and
between the courses the good lady sat with her hands spread on the
tablecloth.
Suddenly the burr of conversation ceased and in the silence that
followed a young man on the right of his hostess said, pleasantly:
"Awful pause!"
"Yes, they may be," said the old-time cook, with heightened color;
"and yours would be like them if you had done half my work."
His relatives telephoned to the nearest florist's. The ribbon must be
extra wide, with "Rest in Peace" on both sides, and if there was room,
"We Shall Meet in Heaven."
The florist was away and his new assistant handled the job. There was
a sensation when the flowers turned up at the funeral. The ribbon was
extra wide, indeed, and on it was the inscription:
"Rest in peace on both sides, and, if there is room, we shall meet in
heaven."
_See also_ Bluffing.
EMPLOYERS AND EMPLOYEES
_An Employer's Dream_
An Employee,
Dynamic, but not variable.
Tall--of excellent personality.
Aggressive--but tactful.
Sales type--but with a liking for detail.
Vision--looking ahead and discounting the future.
Loyal--always having the interest of his employer at heart.
Creative--but appreciating values--initiative balanced with
caution,
forseeing his employer's wishes and ideas.
Serious thinker--sunny disposition, looking ahead but mastering
first the work on hand.
Interested in his salary--only as incidental--willing to leave
that to the discretion of those above him.
Character--excellent, not a clock watcher--interested only in
results, working night and day if necessary to secure his success.
Honest--clear thinking--hard-working--looking ahead
fearlessly--with
his eyes on the future, putting everything else second to his
work--with supreme, sound confidence in his own ability--
Ah! Shucks--It's Impossible.
EMPLOYER (to clerk)--"If that bore, Smithers, comes in, tell him I'm
out--and don't be working or he'll know you're lying."
_The Ten Commandments_ (_By A Wise Employer_)
First--Don't lie. It wastes my time and yours. I am sure to catch you
in the end, and that will be the wrong end.
Second--Watch your work, not the clock. A long day's work makes a long
day short, and a short day's work makes my face long.
Third--Give me more than I expect, and I will give you more than you
expect. I can afford to increase your pay if you increase my profits.
Fourth--You owe so much to yourself you cannot afford to owe anybody
else. Keep out of debt.
Fifth--Dishonesty is never an accident. Good men, like good women,
never see temptation when they meet it.
Sixth--Mind your own business, and in time you'll have a business of
your own to mind.
Seventh--Don't do anything here which hurts your self-respect. An
employee who is willing to steal for me is willing to steal from me.
Eighth--It is none of my business what you do at night. But if
dissipation affects what you do the next day, and you do half as much
as I demand, you'll last half as long as you hoped.
Ninth--Don't tell me what I'll like to hear, but what I ought to hear.
I don't want a valet for my pride, but one for my purse.
Tenth--Don't kick if I kick. If you're worth while correcting, you're
worth while keeping. I don't waste time cutting specks out of rotten
apples.
--_The Rotarian_.
One of the bosses at Baldwin's Locomotive Works had to lay off an
argumentative Irishman named Pat, so he saved discussion by putting
the discharge in writing. The next day Pat was missing, but a week
later the boss was passing through the shop and he saw him again at
his lathe. Then, the following colloquy occurred:
"Didn't you get my letter?"
"Yis, sur, Oi did," said Pat.
"Did you read it?"
"Sure, sur, Oi read it inside and Oi read it outside," said Pat,
"and on the inside yez said I was fired and on the outside yez said:
'Return to Baldwin Locomotive Works in five days.'"
"Well, George," said the president of the company to old George, "how
goes it?"
"Fair to middlin', sir," George answered. And he continued to
currycomb a bay horse.
"Me an' this here boss," George said, suddenly, "has worked for your
firm sixteen year."
"Well, well," said the president, thinking a little guiltily of
George's salary. "And I suppose you are both pretty highly valued,
George, eh?"
"H'm," said George, "the both of us was took sick last week, and they
got a doctor for the hoss, but they just docked my pay."
A plumber and a painter were working in the same house. The painter
arrived late and the plumber said to him, "You're late this morning."
"Yes," said the painter, "I had to stop and have my hair cut."
"You didn't do it on your employer's time, did you?" said the plumber.
"Sure, I did," said the painter; "It grew on his time."
POSSIBLE EMPLOYER--"H'm! so you want a job, eh? Do you ever tell
lies?"
APPLICANT--"No, sir, but I kin learn."
A man named Dodgin was recently appointed foreman at the gas works,
but his name was not known to all the employees. One day while on
his rounds he came across two men sitting in a corner, smoking, and
stopped near them.
"Who are you?" said one of the men.
"I'm Dodgin, the new foreman," he replied.
"So are we," replied the other workers, "sit down and have a smoke."
ENEMIES
Speak well of your enemies. Remember you made them.
The fine and noble way to kill a foe
Is not to kill him; you with kindness may
So change him, that he shall cease to be so;
Then he's slain.
--_Aleyn_.
ENGLISH LANGUAGE
By way of enlarging the children's vocabulary, our village
school-teacher is in the habit of giving them a certain word and
asking them to form a sentence in which that word occurs. The other
day she gave the class the word "notwithstanding." There was a pause,
and then a bright-faced youngster held up his hand.
"Well, what is your sentence, Tommy?" asked the teacher.
"Father wore his trousers out, but notwithstanding."
TILDA--"Pass the 'lasses."
LIZZIE (who has attended school)--"Don't say ''lasses.' Say molasses."
TILDA--"How come I say mo' 'lasses when I ain't had none yet?"
_Jailless Crimes_
Killing time.
Hanging pictures.
Stealing bases.
Shooting the chutes.
Choking off a speaker.
Running over a new song.
Smothering a laugh.
Setting fire to a heart.
Knifing a performance.
Murdering the English language.--_Judge_.
"Now, boys," said the schoolmaster, "I want you to bear in mind that
the word 'stan' at the end of a word means 'the place of.' Thus we
have Afghanistan--the place of the Afghans; also Hindustan--the place
of the Hindus. Can any one give me another example?"
Nobody appeared very anxious to do so, until little Johnny Snaggs, the
joy of his mother and the terror of the cats, said proudly--
"Yes, sir, I can. Umbrellastan--the place for umbrellas."
He went into a shop to buy a comb. He was a man careful of other
people's grammar, and believed himself to be careful of his own.
"Do you want a narrow man's comb?" asked the assistant.
"No," answered the careful grammarian, "I want a comb for a stout man
with tortoiseshell teeth."
TEACHER--"Thomas, will you tell me what a conjunction is, and compose
a sentence containing one?"
THOMAS (after reflection)--"A conjunction is a word connecting
anything, such as 'The horse is hitched to the fence by his halter.'
'Halter' is a conjunction, because it connects the horse and the
fence."
A young man poured out a long story of adventure to a Boston girl.
Surprised, she asked:
"Did you really do that?"
"I done it," answered the proud young man. He began another narrative,
more startling than the first.
When she again expressed her surprise, he said, with inflated chest,
"I done it."
"Do you know," remarked the girl, "you remind me strongly of Banquo's
Ghost?"
"Why?"
"Don't you remember that Macbeth said to him, 'Thou canst not say, "I
did it"'?" and the young man wondered why everybody laughed.
An English professor, traveling through the hills, noted various
quaint expressions. For instance, after a long ride the professor
sought provisions at a mountain hut.
"What d' yo'-all want?" called out a woman.
"Madam," said the professor, "can we get corn bread here? We'd like to
buy some of you."
"Corn bread? Corn bread, did yo' say?" Then she chuckled to herself,
and her manner grew amiable. "Why, if corn bread's all yo' want, come
right in, for that's just what I hain't got nothing else on hand but."
Charles B. Towns, the antidrug champion, spent some time in China
several years ago with Samuel Merwin, the writer. In a Hongkong
shop-window they noticed some Chinese house-coats of particularly
striking designs and stepped in to purchase one. Mr. Towns asked Mr.
Merwin to do the bargaining.
"Wantum coatee," said Mr. Merwin to the sleepy-eyed Oriental who
shuffled up with a grunt. He placed several of the coats before them.
"How muchee Melican monee?" inquired Mr. Merwin.
"It would aid me in transacting this sale," said the Chinaman, "if you
would confine your language to your mother tongue. The coat is seven
dollars."
Mr. Merwin took it.
Grace's uncle met her on the street one spring day and asked her
whether she was going out with a picnic party from her school.
"No," replied his eight-year-old niece, "I ain't going."
"My dear," said the uncle, "you must not say, 'I ain't going.' You
must say, 'I am not going.'" And he proceeded to give her a little
lesson in grammar: "'You are not going. He is not going. We are not
going. You are not going. They are not going.' Now, can you say all
that?"
"Sure I can," responded Grace quite heartily. "There ain't nobody
going."--_Harper's_.
"What is the plural of man, Willie?" asked the teacher of a small
pupil.
"Men," answered Willie.
"And, the plural of child?"
"Twins," was the unexpected reply.
A colored woman one day visited the court-house in a Tennessee town
and said to the judge:
"Is you-all the reperbate judge?"
"I am the judge of probate, mammy."
"I'se come to you-all 'cause I'se in trubble. Mah man--he's done
died detested and I'se got t'ree little infidels so I'se cum to be
appointed der execootioner."
ENGLISHMEN
At a dinner in New York an Englishman heard for the first time and,
probably after due explanation, was much amused by that "toasted"
chestnut:
"Here's to the happiest hours of my life,
"Spent in the arms of another man's wife:
"My mother."
Shortly after his return to England he was present at a banquet,
and thought he would get off the New York toast he had considered so
clever. At the proper time he rose and said:
"Here's to the happiest hours of my life,
"Spent in the arms of another man's wife:
"Spent in the arms of another man's wife--
"Another man's wife. Excuse me, I really cawn't recall the lady's
name, but it doesn't matter."
ENTHUSIASM
A Soldier of color, recently "over there," had proposed to, and been
accepted by his dusky sweetheart. During the marriage ceremony he
showed such signs of nervousness that the minister, noticing it,
whispered to him, in a voice which could have been heard half a mile:
"What's de mattah wif you Rastus, is yo dun los' yo' ring or sumpin?"
"N-no sah, Mr. Preacher," answered the ex-hero, "but I sho nuff dun
los' mah 'thusiasm."
If a man lacks enthusiasm it takes him twice as long to accomplish a
task.
A man who allows himself to be carried away with enthusiasm often has
to walk back.
EPIGRAMS
An epigram is a twinkle in the eye of Truth.
Many a woman is blamed for making a fool of a man when he is really
self-made.
Some men are like rusty needles; the best way to clean and brighten
them is with work.
When one reaches the end of his rope, he should tie a knot in it and
hang on.
EPITAPHS
_A Tired Woman's Epitaph_
_(Before 1850)_
Here lies a poor woman,
Who always was tired;
She lived in a house,
Where help was not hired;
Her last words on earth were,
"Dear friends I am going;
Where washing ain't done,
Nor sweeping nor sewing;
But everything there is exact to my wishes,
For where they don't eat,
There's no washing of dishes;
I'll be where loud anthems will always be ringing;
But having no voice, I'll be clear of the singing;
Don't mourn for me now, don't mourn for me never,
I'm going to do nothing, forever and ever."
Mrs. Whann, the weeping widow of a well-known man, requested that the
words "My sorrow is greater than I can bear" be placed upon the marble
slab of her dear departed.
A few months later the lady returned and asked how much it would cost
her to have the inscription effaced and another substituted.
"No need of that, marm," replied the man, soothingly; "you see, I left
jes' enough room to add 'alone.'"
THE TOMBSTONE MAN (after several abortive suggestions)--"How would
simply, 'Gone Home' do?"
MRS. NEWWEEDS--"I guess that would be all right. It was always the
last place he ever thought of going."--_Puck_.
Here lies my wife: here let her lie!
Now she's at rest, and so am I.
--_John Dryden_.
"Did you hear about the defacement of Mr. Skinner's tombstone?" asked
Mr. Brown a few days after the funeral of that eminent captain of
industry.
"No, what was it?" inquired his neighbor curiously.
"Someone added the word 'friends' to the epitaph."
"What was the epitaph?"
"He did his best."
EQUALITY
In a mood for companionship with none at hand, a New Yorker was making
her way through a quiet down town cross street to an East Side subway.
As she approached a team of horses standing by the curb, the nearer
of the pair looked her straight in the eye man-to-man like. No driver
being in sight she took from her pocket some lumps of sugar (reserved
as a tip for the ice-horse) and fed and fondled and talked foolishly
to her friend of the curb. Looking up before turning to the second
horse, she was confused and startled to find a brisk young driver,
reins in hand, looking ready to tear up the pavements in a mad rush
to Jersey or somewhere. She hurried off to escape his wrath at being
delayed. The angry words flung after her were: "The other one ain't no
stepchild."
And the horses galloped off equally sugared.
ETIQUET
"Frances," said the little girl's mamma, who was entertaining callers
in the parlor, "you came downstairs so noisily that you could be heard
all over the house. Now go back and come down stairs like a lady."
Frances retired and after a few moments re-entered the parlor.
"Did you hear me come downstairs this time, mamma?"
"No dear; I am glad you came down quietly. Now, don't ever let me have
to tell you again not to come down noisily. Now tell these ladies how
you managed to come down like a lady the second time, when the first
time you made so much noise."
"The last time I slid down the banisters," explained Frances.
Hearts, like doors, can ope with ease
To very, very little keys,
And don't forget that they are these
"I thank you, Sir"; and, "If you please."
_Unseen, Unheard_
TEACHER--"What does a well-bred child do when a visitor calls to see
her mother?"
CHILD--"Me--I go play in the street."
HOSTESS (at party)--"Does your mother allow you to have two pieces of
pie when you are at home, Willie?"
WILLIE (who has asked for a second piece)--"No, ma'am."
"Well, do you think she'd like you to have two pieces here?"
"Oh," confidentially, "she wouldn't care. This isn't her pie!"
"I can't understand this code of ethics."
"What code is that?"
"The one which makes it all right to take a man's last dollar, but a
breach of etiquette to take his last cigaret."
Tom Johnson claims that the oldest joke is the one about the Irish
soldier who saw a shell coming and made a low bow. The shell missed
him and took off the head of the man behind him. "Sure," said Pat, "ye
never knew a man to lose anything by being polite."
EUROPEAN WAR
War is evidently a losing game when it takes a country forty-two years
to pay for what she destroyed in a little more than four.
A dusky doughboy, burdened under tons of medals and miles and miles of
ribbons, service and wound chevrons, stars et al., encountered a
27th Division scrapper in Le Mans a few days prior to the division's
departure for the States.
"Whar yo' all ben scrappin' in dis yar war, boss?" meekly inquired the
colored soldier.
"Why, we've been fighting up in Belgium and Flanders with the
British," replied the New Yorker, proudly.
"Well, we ben down in dem woods--watcha call 'em woods 'way down
south."
"The Argonne?" suggested young Knickerbocker.
"Yas, yas, dem's de woods--d'Argonne."
"You know our division was the first to break the Hindenburg line,
colored boy," explained the 27th man.
"Was it you wot did dat trick? Y' know boss, we felt dat ol' line sag
'way down in d'Argonne."
WILLIS--"Did the war do anything for you?"
GILLIS--"Sure did. It taught me to save peach-stones, tin-foil,
newspapers and all kinds of junk. In fact, I can now save anything
except money."
Just before the St. Mihiel show the Germans blew up an ammunition
dump near a company of Yanks. It was reported that there was a large
quantity of gas shells in the dump, and as soon as the explosions
began the Americans immediately made themselves scarce with great
rapidity.
When the danger had passed all started drifting back with the
exception of one man who did not appear till the next day.
"Well, where you been?" demanded the top kick, eyeing him coldly.
"Sergeant," replied the other earnestly, "I don't know where I been,
but I give you my word I been all day gettin' back."
"Who won the war?" asked the bright young goof behind the
soda-counter.
"Huh," ejaculated the ex-sergeant gruffly as he dug up the war-tax, "I
think we bought it."
A librarian confides to us that she was visited by a young lady who
wished to see a large map of France. She was writing a paper on the
battle-fields of France for a culture club, and she just couldn't find
Flanders Fields and No Man's Land on any of the maps in her books.
The trouble with the peace table is that the Allies want it _à la
carte_, and Wilson wants it American plan--_table d'hôte_.
_See also_ Exaggeration; Heroes; Soldiers; War.
EUROPEAN WAR--POEMS
_Gifts of the Dead_
Ye who in Sorrow's tents abide,
Mourning your dead with hidden tears,
Bethink ye what a wealth of pride
They've won you for the coming years.
Grievous the pain; but, in the day
When all the cost is counted o'er,
Would it be best that ye should say:
"We lost no loved ones in the war?"
Who knows? But proud then shall ye stand
That best, most honored boast to make:
"My lover died for his dear land,"
Or, "My son fell for England's sake."
Christlike they died that we might live;
And our redeemed lives would we bring,
With aught that gratitude may give
To serve you in your sorrowing.
And never a pathway shall ye tread,
No foot of seashore, hill, or lea,
But ye may think: "The dead, my dead,
Gave this, a sacred gift, to me."
--_Habberton Lulhaut_.
The war is like the Judgment Day--
All sham, all pretext torn away;
And swift the searching hours reveal
Hearts good as gold, souls true as steel.
Blest saints and martyrs in disguise,
Concealed ere-while from holden eyes.
And now we feel that all around
Have angels walked the well-known ground;
Not winged and strange beyond our ken,
But in the form of common men.
God's messengers from Heaven's own sphere--
Unrecognized because so near.
--_Ella Fuller Maitland_.
_For Thee They Died_
For thee their pilgrim swords were tried,
Thy flaming word was in their scrips,
They battled, they endured, they died
To make a new Apocalypse.
Master and Maker, God of Right,
The soldier dead are at thy gate,
Who kept the spears of honor bright
And freedom's house inviolate.
--_John Drinkwater_.
_After-Days_.