Its thunder, and its mouth is sealed,
Strong men shall drive the furrow straight
On some remembered battle-field.
Untroubled they shall hear the loud.
And gusty driving of the rains,
And birds with immemorial voice
Sing as of old in leafy lanes.
The stricken, tainted soil shall be
Again a flowery paradise--
Pure with the memory of the dead
And purer for their sacrifice.
--_Eric Chilman_.
EVIDENCE
An attorney was defending a man charged by his wife with desertion.
For a time it looked as tho it were a cinch for the prosecution, but
at the psychological moment the attorney called the defendant to the
stand. "Take off that bandage," he cried, and the man did it, exposing
a black eye. "Your honor," said the attorney, "our defense is that
this man is not a deserter. He's a refugee."
The London police-sergeant raised his eyes from the blotter as two
policemen propelled the resisting victim before him.
"A German spy, sir!" gasped the first bobby.
"I'm an American, and can prove it," denied the victim.
"That's what he says, but here's the evidence," interrupted the second
bobby, triumphantly producing a bulky hotel-register from beneath his
arm, and pointing to an entry.
"V. Gates," written in a flowing hand, was the record that met the
astonished sergeant's gaze.
It happened in the court-room during the trial of a husky young man
who was charged with assault and battery. Throughout an especially
severe cross-examination the defendant stoutly maintained that he had
merely pushed the plaintiff "a little bit."
"Well, about how hard?" queried the prosecutor.
"Oh, just a little bit," responded the defendant.
"Now," said the attorney, "for the benefit of the judge and the
jury, you will please step down here and, with me for the subject,
illustrate just how hard you mean."
Owing to the unmerciful badgering which the witness had just been
through, the prosecutor thought that the young man would perhaps
overdo the matter to get back at him, and thus incriminate himself.
The defendant descended as per schedule, and approached the waiting
attorney. When he reached him the spectators were astonished to see
him slap the lawyer in the face, kick him in the shins, seize him
bodily, and, finally, with a supreme effort, lift him from the floor
and hurl him prostrate across a table.
Turning from the bewildered prosecutor, he faced the court and
explained mildly:
"Your honor and gentlemen, about one-tenth that hard!"
An aged negro was crossing-tender at a spot where an express train
made quick work of a buggy and its occupants. Naturally he was the
chief witness, and the entire case hinged upon the energy with which
he had displayed his warning signal.
A gruelling cross-examination left Rastus unshaken in this story:
The night was dark, and he had waved his lantern frantically, but the
driver of the carriage paid no attention to it.
Later, the division superintendent called the flagman to his office to
compliment him on the steadfastness with which he stuck to his story.
"You did wonderfully, Rastus," he said. "I was afraid at first you
might waver in your testimony."
"Nossir, nossir," Rastus exclaimed, "but I done feared ev'ry minute
that 'ere durn lawyer was gwine ter ask me if mah lantern was
lit."--_Puck_.
During a suit to recover damages following an automobile collision in
the Adirondacks, the complainant's attorney, a city lawyer, constantly
hectored the defendant's principal witness, a rough old guide, but was
unable to shake his testimony.
During cross-examination the guide mentioned "havin' come across the
trail of a Ford." The city lawyer jumped at this chance to discredit
the guide's evidence.
"Do you mean to tell this court," he demanded, "that you can determine
the make of a car by studying its track? How did you know it was a
Ford?"
"Well, sir," drawled the guide, "I followed its trail about a hundred
yards and found a Ford at the end of it."
The magistrate looked severely at the small, red-faced man who had
been summoned before him, and who returned his gaze without flinching.
"So you kicked your landlord downstairs?" queried the magistrate. "Did
you imagine that was within the right of a tenant?"
"I'll bring my lease in and show it to you," said the little man,
growing redder, "and I'll wager you'll agree with me that anything
they've forgotten to prohibit in that lease I had a right to do the
very first chance I got."
"As a matter of fact," said the lawyer for the defendant, trying to be
sarcastic, "you were scared half to death, and don't know whether it
was a motor-car or something resembling a motor-car that hit you."
"It resembled one all right," the plaintiff made answer. "I was
forcibly struck by the resemblance."
A religious worker was visiting a Southern penitentiary, when one
prisoner in some way took his fancy. This prisoner was a negro,
who evinced a religious fervour as deep as it was gratifying to the
caller.
"Of what were you accused?" the prisoner was asked.
"Dey says I took a watch," answered the negro. "I made a good fight. I
had a dandy lawyer, an' he done prove an alibi wif ten witnesses. Den
my lawyer he shore made a strong speech to de jury. But it wa'n't no
use, sah; I gets ten years."
"I don't see why you were not acquitted," said the religious worker.
"Well, sah," explained the prisoner, "dere was shore one weak spot
'bout my defence--dey found de watch in my pocket."
Some time ago an elderly gentleman walking along the street saw a
little girl crying bitterly. Instantly his heart softened and he
stopped to soothe her.
"What is the matter, little girl," he kindly asked; "are you hurt?"
"No, sir," responded the child as her sobbing increased in volume, "I
lost my nickel!"
"There! There!" gently returned the kind-hearted citizen, digging into
his pocket. "Don't cry any more. Here is your nickel."
"Why, you wicked man!" exclaimed the little girl, seizing the coin and
glaring at the donor with flashing eyes. "You had it all the time!"
GRAMERCY--"Why don't you have your old car repainted?"
PARK--"Wouldn't think of such a thing. It's been stolen a dozen times
and has the finest collection of fingerprints you ever saw."
A witness in a railroad case at Fort Worth, asked to tell in his own
way how the accident happened, said:
"Well, Ole and I was walking down the track, and I heard a whistle,
and I got off the track, and the train went by, and I got back on the
track, and I didn't see Ole; but I walked along, and pretty soon I
seen Ole's hat, and I walked on, and seen one of Ole's legs, and then
I seen one of Ole's arms, and then another leg, and then over one side
Ole's head, and I says, 'My God! Something muster happen to Ole!'"
Facts are stubborn things.--_Smollett_.
_See also_ Witnesses.
EXAGGERATION
_A War Lexicon_
In a letter to the editor of the New York Sun an anonymous writer
gives the following important interpretations of various phrases of
"Desperanto," or the language indulged in by frantic telegraph editors
on American newspapers:
Terrific Slaughter--Sixteen French and seventeen Germans wounded.
Hurled Back--The withdrawal of an advanced outpost.
Thousands of Prisoners--Three German farmers arrested.
Deadly Air Battle--French aeroplane seen in the distance.
Gigantic Army of Invasion--Two troops of cavalry on a reconnaissance.
Overwhelming Force--A sergeant and a detail of twelve men.
Fierce Naval Battle--Mysterious sounds heard at sea.
Americans Outrageously Maltreated--One American asked to explain why
his trunk contained maps of German roads.
Bottled Up--A fleet at anchor.
Trapped--An army in camp.
Rout--An orderly retreat.
Heroism--A failure of soldiers to run away in the face of danger.
Decisive Conflict--A skirmish of outposts.
A man with a look of business on his face came to a hotel-keeper, and
asked him if he would buy two carloads of frogs' legs.
"Two carloads!" said the man in amazement. "Why, I could not use them
in twenty years!"
"Well, will you buy a carload?"
"No."
"Twenty or thirty bushels?"
"No."
"Twenty or thirty dozens?"
"No."
"Two dozen?"
"Yes."
A few days later the man returned with three pairs of legs. "Is that
all?" asked the landlord.
"Yes; the fact is that I live near a pond, and the frogs made so much
noise that I thought there were millions of them. But I dragged the
pond with a seine, drained it and raked it, and there were only three
frogs in the whole place."--_Life_.
A certain young society man was much given to telling exaggerated
stories and was rapidly gaining a reputation for untruthfulness which
worried his friends and particularly his chum, who remonstrated with
him and threatened to disown him if he did not mend his ways.
"Charlie," said he, "you must stop this big story business of yours or
you are going to lose me as a friend. Nobody believes a word you say,
and you are getting to be a laughing-stock."
Charlie admitted that he was aware of the fact but complained that he
could not overcome his fault, try as he would. He suggested that had
he but somebody beside him when he started to elaborate upon his tale,
to tread on his foot, he was sure he could break the habit.
A few days later they were invited to a dinner party and his chum
agreed to sit next to Charlie and step on his toe if he went too far.
All went well until the subject of travel was brought up. One of the
company told of an immense building that he had seen when on a trip
up the Nile. This started Charlie, who at once began to describe
a remarkable building he had seen while on a hunting trip on the
northern border of India.
"It was one of the most remarkable buildings, I presume, in the
world," said he. "Its dimensions we found to be three miles in
length, two miles in height, and"--as his watchful friend trod on his
toe--"two feet wide."
The old sea captain was smoking comfortably by his fireside when Jack,
his sailor son, burst in upon him.
"Weather too rough," explained the son, "so we've put in for the day."
"Too rough!" exclaimed Mr. Tar, with visions of his own days at sea.
"Why, sir, I was once sailing round the Cape when a storm came on, and
it blew down the main-mast and the mizzen-mast was swept away, but we
didn't even think of putting in."
"Well, you see," exclaimed the son, "this storm was so bad that it
blew the anchors off the captain's buttons, took the paint off the
ship's bows and--"
"Stop!" cried the old man. "You do me credit, Jack--you do me credit!"
EXAMINATIONS
PROF--"A fool can ask more questions than a wise man can answer."
STUDE--"No wonder so many of us flunk in our exams!"
EXCUSES
In a Canadian camp somewhere in England a second George Washington has
been found. He, in company with several others, had been granted four
days' leave, and, as usual, wired for extension. But no hackneyed
excuse was his. In fact, it was so original that it has been framed
and now hangs in a prominent spot in the battalion orderly-room. It
ran as follows:
"Nobody dead, nobody ill; still going strong, having a good time, and
got plenty of money. Please grant extension."
And he got it!
FIRST OFFICER--"Did you get that fellow's number?"
SECOND OFFICER--"No; he was going too fast."
FIRST OFFICER--"Say, that was a fine-looking dame in the car."
SECOND OFFICER--"Wasn't she?"--_Puck_.
TED--"Pity the rain spoiled the game today."
NED--"But you got a check didn't you?"
TED--"Yes, but to get off I had to use up the best excuse I ever had
in my life."--_Judge_.
Johnny B----, who has seen eight summers go by, not very long ago
developed a fondness for playing hooky from school. After two or three
offenses of this kind he was taken to task by his teacher.
"Johnny," she said, "the next time you are absent I want you to bring
me an excuse from your father telling me why you were not here."
"I don't want to bring an excuse from my father," protested the boy.
"Why not?" asked the teacher, her suspicion plain.
"'Cause father isn't any good at making excuses."
In his Savannah camp Bill Donovan, baseball manager, had a dusky-hued
waiter at the hotel by the name of Sutton. Bill had to reproach Sutton
more than once for a lack of agility in arriving with the food.
Sutton promised to improve. One morning he brought in a consignment of
griddle-cakes that had gone cold.
"What do you mean," said Bill, "by bringing me in cold cakes?"
"Well, I'll tell you, boss," said Sutton. "I brung them cakes in so
fast that I guess they hit a draft."
A country school-master had two pupils, to one of whom he was partial,
and to the other severe. One morning it happened that these two boys
were late, and were called up to account for it.
"You must have heard the bell, boys; why did you not come?"
"Please, sir," said the favorite, "I was dreaming that I was going to
Margate, and I thought the school-bell was the steam-boat-bell."
"Very well," said the master, glad of any pretext to excuse his
favorite. "And now, sir," turning to the other, "What have you to
say?"
"Please, sir," said the puzzled boy, "I--I--was waiting to see Tom
off!"
"Waiter, bring me two fried eggs, some ham, a cup of coffee, and a
roll," said the first "commercial."
"Bring me the same," said his friend, "but eliminate the eggs."
"Yessir."
In a moment the waiter came back, leaned confidentially and penitently
over the table, and whispered:
"We 'ad a bad accident just before we opened this mornin', sir, and
the 'andle of the 'liminator got busted off. Will you take yer heggs
fried, same as this 'ere gentleman?"
EXECUTIVE ABILITY
Executive ability has been variously defined, but the following from
an executive with a sense of humor seems to cover the whole subject.
He said: "Executive ability is the ability to hire someone to do work
for which you will get the credit, and, if there is a slip-up, having
someone at whose door to lay the blame."
_Qualifications for an Executive_
To do the right thing, at the right time, in the right way. To do some
things better than they were done before. To eliminate errors. To know
both sides of a question. To be courteous. To set an example. To
work for the love of work. To anticipate requirements. To develop
resources. To master circumstances. To act from reason rather than
from rule. To be satisfied with nothing short of perfection.--_H.
Gordon Selfridge_.
EXPENSES
A story is told about a citizen whose daughter is about to be married,
and who has been trying to get a line on what the expense of the
rather elaborate ceremony will be. He approached a friend of his,
seeking information.
"Morris," he said, "your oldest daughter was married about five years
ago, wasn't she? Would you mind telling me about how much the wedding
cost you?"
"Not at all, Sam," was the answer. "Altogether, about five thousand
dollars a year."
Here is a story of the late Lord Haversham's schooldays. Glancing
through his pocket book his mother saw a number of entries of small
sums, ranging from 2s. 6d. to 5s., against which were the letters
"P.G." Thinking this must mean the Propagation of the Gospel, she
asked her son why he did not give a lump sum and a larger amount to so
deserving a cause.
"That is not for the Propagation of the Gospel," he replied. "When I
cannot remember exactly on what I spend the money I put 'P.G.,' which
means 'Probably grub.'"
"Don't you find it hard these times to meet expenses?"
"Hard? Man alive! I meet expenses at every turn."
EXPERIENCE
"Did you ever realize anything on that investment?"
"Oh, yes."
"What did you realize on it?"
"What a fool I had been."
It is as easy to buy experience as it is difficult to sell it.
"Have you ever had any experience in handling high-class ware?" asked
a dealer in bric-à-brac of an applicant for work.
"No, sir," was the reply, "but I think I can do it."
"Suppose," said the dealer, "you accidentally broke a very valuable
porcelain vase, what would you do?"
"I should put it carefully together," replied the man, "and set it
where a wealthy customer would be sure to knock it over again."
"Consider yourself engaged," said the dealer. "Now, tell me where you
learned that trick of the trade."
"A few years ago," answered the other, "I was one of the
'wealthy-customer' class."
Experience is a dead loss if you can't sell it for more than it cost.
Experience converts us to ourselves when books fail us.--_A. Bronson
Alcott_.
I know
The past and thence I will essay to glean
A warning for the future, so that man
May profit by his errors, and derive
Experience from his folly;
For, when the power of imparting joy
Is equal to the will, the human soul
Requires no other heaven.
--_Shelley_.
EXTRAVAGANCE
"What made you a multi-millionaire?"
"My wife."
"Ah, her tactful help--"
"Nothing like that. I was simply curious to know if there was any
income she couldn't live beyond."
The man who builds, and wants wherewith to pay,
Provides a home from which to run away.
--_Young_.
FAILURES
BROWN--"Back to town again? I thought you were a farmer."
GREEN--"You made the same mistake I did."--_Judge_.
There are people who fail because they are afraid to make a beginning.
Who are too honest to steal, but will borrow and never pay back. Who
go to bed tired because they spend the day in looking for an easy
place. Who can play a tune on one string, but it never makes anybody
want to dance. Who would like to reform the world, but have a front
gate that won't stay shut. Who cannot tell what they think about
anything until they see what the papers have to say about it.
A first failure is often a blessing.--_A. L. Brown_.
To fail at all is to fail utterly.--_Lowell_.
He only is exempt from failures who makes no efforts.--_Whately_.
FAME
After an absence of four years a certain man went back to visit his
old home town. The first four people he met didn't remember him and
the next three didn't know he had been away.
"That antagonist of yours says he is going to leave footprints in the
sands of time."
"He won't," replied Senator Sorghum. "His mind is in the clouds. He is
an intellectual aviator. When he comes down he will leave a dent, not
a footprint."
Nor fame I slight, nor for her favors call:
She comes unlooked for, if she comes at all.
--_Pope_.
For what is fame, but the benignant strength of one, transformed to
joy of many?--_George Eliot_.
Fame is the fragrance of heroic deeds.--_Longfellow_.
FAMILIES
A Kansas man is reported to be the father of thirty-two children.
It is not known whether he will apply for admission to the League of
Nations or just let America represent him for the present.--_Punch
(London)_.
A census-taker was working in lower New York on the East Side, and
came to a tenement that was literally crowded with children. To the
woman who was bending over the washtub he said:
"Madam, I am the census-taker; how many children have you?"
"Well, lemme see," replied the woman, as she straightened up and wiped
her hands on her apron. "There's Mary and Ellen and Delia and Susie
and Emma and Tommy and Albert and Eddie and Charlie and Frank and--"
"Madam," interrupted the census man, "if you could just give me the
number--"
"Number!" she exclaimed, indignantly. "I want you to understand that
we ain't got to numberin' 'em yet. We ain't run out o' names!"
The census man when taking the census in a certain Canadian town asked
of the head of the family the usual questions, one being, "How many
children have you?"
The man answered, "Oh, I don't know, ten, twelve, fourteen or so. I
know a barrel of flour lasts pretty damn quick."
_See also_ Bluffing.
FARMING
"It used to be said that anybody could farm--that about all that
was required was a strong back and a weak mind," mused the gaunt
Missourian. "But now'-days, to be a successful farmer a feller must
have a good head and a wide education in order to understand the
advice ladled out to him from all sides by city men and to select for
use that which will do him the least damage."
PROFESSOR AT AGRICULTURAL SCHOOL--"What kinds of farming are there?"
NEW STUDENT--"Extensive, intensive, and pretensive."
They were having an argument as to whether it was correct to say of a
hen she is "setting" or "sitting," and, not being able to arrive at a
satisfactory conclusion, they decided to submit the problem to Farmer
Giles.
"My friends," said he, "that don't interest me at all. What I wants to
know when I hear a hen cackle is whether she be laying or lying."
"How many head o' live stock you got on the place?"
"Live stock?" echoed the somewhat puzzled farmer. "What d' ye mean
by live stock? I got four steam-tractors and sevenautomobiles."--_Judge_.
The city youth secured a job with Farmer Jones. The morning after his
arrival, promptly at 4 o'clock, the farmer rapped on his door and told
him to get up. The youth protested.
"What for?" he asked, rubbing his eyes.
"Why, we're going to cut oats," replied the farmer.
"Are they wild oats," queried the youth, "that you've got to sneak up
on 'em in the dark?"
"Aren't you afraid America will become isolated?"
"Not if us farmers keep raisin' things the world needs," answered
Farmer Corntossel, "The feller that rings the dinner-bell never runs
much risk of bein' lonesome."
"How'd that city hired man of yours pan out?"
"Well, he started in Monday morning plowing corn. At 10 o'clock he
struck for a helper to lift the gangs out at the ends, and I sent the
kid out to do that. At noon he struck for two pieces of strawberry
shortcake instead of one, so I gave him my piece. At 1:15 he struck
for a sunshade on the corn plow. I says, 'Young man, this job is just
like a baseball game. Three strikes and you're out, Good-bye.'"
A rather patronizing individual from town was observing with
considerable interest the operations of a farmer with whom he had put
up for a while.
As he watched the old man sow the seed in his field the man from the
city called out facetiously:
"Well done, old chap. You sow; I reap the fruits."
Whereupon the farmer grinned and replied:
"Maybe you will. I am sowing hemp."
_See also_ Failures.
FASHION
"Isn't your wife dogmatic?"
"She was when Pomeranian pups were the style, but now she's
auto-matic."
The fashion wears out more apparel than the man.--_Shakespeare_.
"Women have queer ways."
"How now?"
"The styles call for mannish hats. So my wife bought a mannish hat for
eighteen dollars."
"Well?"
"She could have bought a man's hat for four dollars."
Women's fashions seem to be working around to the point where the
voice with the smile will have to be listed among the latest spring
styles.
The intrepid general was rallying her wavering female troops.
"Women," she cried, "will you give way to mannish fears?"
A muffled murmur of indecision ran through the ranks.
"Shall it be said we are clothed in male armor?" shrieked the general.
The murmur became a mumble.
"Will you," fiercely demanded the general, "show the white feather in
a season when feathers are not worn?"
The effect was electrical.
"Never!" roared the soldiers. And, forming into battle array, they
once more hurled themselves upon the enemy.
"You criticize us," said the Chinese visitor, "yet I see all your
women have their feet bandaged."
"That is an epidemic," it was explained to him, gently, "which broke
out in 1914. Those are called spats."
Little Tommy at the "movies" saw a tribe of Indians painting their
faces, and asked his mother the significance of this.
"Indians," his mother answered, "always paint their faces before going
on the war-path--before scalping and tomahawking and murdering."
The next evening after dinner, as the mother entertained in the parlor
her daughter's young man, Tommy rushed downstairs, wide-eyed with
fright.
"Come on, mother!" he cried. "Let's get out of this quick! Sister is
going on the war-path!"
Mrs. Will Irwin said at a Washington Square tea:
"The more immodest fashions would disappear if men would resolutely
oppose them.
"I know a woman whose dressmaker sent home the other day a skirt
that was, really, too short altogether. The woman put it on. It was
becoming enough, dear knows, but it made her feel ashamed. She entered
the library, and her husband looked up from his work with a dark
frown.
"'I wonder,' she said, with an embarrassed laugh, 'if these
ultra-short skirts will ever go out?'
"'They'll never go out with me,' he answered in decided tones."
Those reform preachers who designed the moral gown for women did a
good job. Now to design a woman who will wear it.