suit here less than two weeks ago, and it is rusty-looking already."
"Well," replied the clothing-dealer, "I guaranteed it to wear like
iron, didn't I?"
HABIT
Before becoming a hotel clerk he had worked in a grocery store.
"Is Judge David Poggenburg stopping here?" asked an impressive-looking
stranger approaching the desk.
"No," replied the clerk with his most winning manner, "but--er--we
have something else just as good."
He was engaged to the daughter of a literary man. He was bold as a
wooer, but the veriest coward when it came to approaching the fair
one's father. So he waited outside the great man's study while the
"fayre ladye" did the tackling. In five minutes she was out again and
on her dress was pinned a slip of paper bearing the words:
"With the author's compliments."
"I took that pretty girl from the store home the other night, and
stole a kiss."
"What did she say?"
"Will that be all?"
The two American war correspondents were gazing at the conflict when
Winkletop caught sight of a gallant officer leading a charge.
"His face is strangely familiar," he said. "That Greek lieutenant, I
mean--"
"Yes," said Blithers. "He used to run the bootblacking stand in that
barber-shop over on Steenth Avenue and Umptyiph Street."
And just then the noble warrior dashed madly past, and, forgetting
himself under the excitement of the moment, turned and cried aloud to
his advancing troops:
"Next! Shine!"
And the indomitable phalanx moved steadily up the hill, giving the
enemy the worst polishing-off they had had since war was declared.
RELATIVE--"He is sleeping so quietly that I wonder if we will know
when the end comes."
WIFE OF DYING FIRST-NIGHTER--"Yes, we will. He will get up and go out
about five minutes before the end."--_Puck_.
HURRY--"What's happened to Speeder. I haven't seen him for weeks?"
CANE--"Oh, he tried all the different makes of cars and then bought an
aeroplane."
HURRY--"Has he crashed?"
CANE--"Well, not exactly. He started on a cross-country flight the
other day, heard something rattle and absent-mindedly climbed out to
look under the machine."
"For ten years," said the new boarder, "my habits were as regular as
clockwork. I rose on the stroke of six, and half an hour later was at
breakfast; at seven I was at work; dined at one; had supper at six,
and was in bed at nine thirty. Ate only plain food, and hadn't a day's
illness all the time."
"Dear me!" said a hearer, in sympathetic tones; "and what were you in
for?"
DOCTOR--"I have to report, sir, that you are the father of triplets."
POLITICIAN--"Impossible! I'll demand a recount."--_Puck_.
Ill habits gather by unseen degrees,
As brooks make rivers, rivers run to seas.
--_Dryden_.
"Habit" is hard to overcome.
If you take off the first letter, it does not change "a bit."
If you take off another, you have a "bit" left.
If you take still another the whole of "it" remains.
If you take still another, it is not "t"-totally used up.
All of which goes to show that if you wish to be rid of a
"habit," you must throw it off altogether.
"Why did your wife leave you?"
"Force of habit, I guess. She was a cook before I married her."
BRIGGS--"You mustn't take offense if I speak to you about something I
have had on my mind for some time, just a little habit of yours."
GRIGGS--"Certainly not."
BRIGGS--"Nobody has ever had the nerve to tell you before. And you are
such a splendid, noble fellow."
GRIGGS--"Yes, yes."
BRIGGS--"You're one of those fellows who never really know what is
being said to them; you're always pursuing some train of thought.
Anyone can tell half the time you are not listening by the far-away
look in your eyes. You've offended a lot of people. Of course, it's
terribly rude--only you don't know it. You mustn't any more, old chap
(putting his hands on Grigg's shoulder). Promise me you'll quit."
GRIGGS (obliged to face him)--"Just what were you saying?"
"That cashier is a cool chap."
"How so?"
"A thug with a revolver ordered him to hand out the bank's cash
yesterday, but he said he couldn't do it unless the thug was
identified. This took the fellow so aback, he hesitated a moment and
was nabbed."
Some time ago, when a local corps was reviewed by Sir Ian Hamilton,
one officer was mounted on a horse that had previously distinguished
itself in a bakery business. Somebody recognized the horse, and
shouted, "Baker!" The horse promptly stopped dead, and nothing could
urge it on.
The situation was getting painful when the officer was struck with a
brilliant idea, and remarked, "Not today, thank you." The procession
then moved on.
"This makes the fourth time I have had to punish you this week,
Sylvester," chided the teacher. "Do you wonder why?"
"Nope!" replied Skinny Smith. "You've got the habit, that's all."
HADES
_See_ Future life.
HAPPINESS
"Happiness is merely a state of mind," quoted the Parlor Philosopher.
"If you mean happiness is imaginary I quite agree with you," replied
the Mere Man. "Just watch a fellow enjoying his fifty-cent cigar, when
he knows very well it's really the old five-center he used to scorn."
Keep happy when the weather's fair,
Hum with the cheerful throng;
Be glad that God has let you share
The joys of sun and song.
Keep happy when the weather's wet
The sun may hide to-day;
But back of the clouds, I'll bet,
He's smiling, anyway!
--_Luke McLuke_.
All who joy would win
Must share it--Happiness was born a twin.
--_Byron_.
Happiness is not a fixed quantity, like the world's gold supply: so
that the more one man has the less his neighbor is likely to have.
Real happiness is an infection. You can never force it upon any one.
Each individual must "take" it. I have heard people say, as explaining
the misery of many, that there is not enough happiness to go around.
But the comment misses the very nature of happiness. The more there is
in the world, the more there is likely to be. The larger the number
of happy people the faster the infection will spread. But each must
invite it. One child is happy with the crudest sort of toy, whereas
another child is unhappy with an armful of toys. To the latter kind
of soul, grown or ungrown, you can never give happiness, for there are
not enough toys to supply everybody. Happiness is of the heart not of
circumstances.
After reading a poem about a little boy who was so happy because there
were lovely flowers, beautiful birds, blue sky and running brooks,
eight-year-old William remarked:
"Those things would never make me happy, Miss Jones."
"Why, William," replied his teacher, "what would it take to make you
happy?"
"Saturdays!" was the prompt reply.--_Harper's_.
The good fairy brought an ingot of lead and an ingot of gold and laid
them before him. "Choose!" she said, simply.
The child thought a moment, and chose the lead.
"It's no heavier to carry, it's just as good to eat, and it won't make
everybody hate me!" quoth he.
The good fairy laughed.
"You can be happy without any help from me," she chirped, and flew
away.
HASH
The literary boarder fastened his eyes upon the hash.
"Kindly pass the Review of Reviews," he said.
They had hash on Monday for dinner, after a roast of beef on Sunday,
as happens in all well-regulated families. Father had said grace, when
Bobbie said:
"I don't see why you asked another blessing this evening, father. You
did it yesterday over this. It's the same old stuff."
SHE (thoughtfully)--"Did you ever think much about reincarnation,
dear?"
'18 (otherwise)--"Think about it? I eat it nearly every day--only we
call it hash."
HASTE
Ten people hurry, to catch up where one hurries to get ahead.
The more haste, ever the worst speed.--_Churchill_.
Whoever is in a hurry shows that the thing he is about is too big for
him. Haste and hurry are very different things.--_Chesterfield_.
HEAVEN
A Sunday-school teacher was quizzing her class of boys on the strength
of their desire for righteousness.
"All those who wish to go to heaven," she said, "please stand."
All got to their feet but one small boy.
"Why, Johnny," exclaimed the shocked teacher, "do you mean to say that
you don't want to go to heaven?"
"No, ma'am," replied Johnny promptly. "Not if that bunch is going."
THE COOK--"Sir! Sir! There's a _Zep'lin_ outside and if you don't come
wi' the keys of the cellar, we'll all be in--in--heaven in a couple o'
minutes!"
THE CURATE--"God forbid!"
One of the prominent deacons in an Ohio church was seriously ill.
As he was very popular among the congregation, a bulletin board was
posted in front of the church to inform of his condition. It read:
"One o'clock. Deacon Jones very ill."
"Two o'clock. Deacon Jones is worse and sinking rapidly."
"Three o'clock. Deacon Jones dead."
A traveling man passing by that evening read the bulletin and, seeing
no one in sight, added at the bottom:
"Seven o'clock. Great excitement in Heaven. Deacon Jones has not
arrived. The worst is feared."
"Ma, do cows and bees go to heaven?"
"Mercy, child, what a question! Why?"
"Cause if they don't, the milk and honey the preacher said was up
there must be all canned stuff."
"Say, mama, was baby sent down from heaven?"
"Why, yes."
"Um. They like to have it quiet up there, don't they?"
_See also_ Future life.
HELL
_See_ Future life.
HEREDITY
"What is heredity?"
"Something a father believes in until his son starts to act like a
fool."
HEROES
"So you won the Distinguished Service Cross for conspicuous bravery in
extreme danger. Didn't you feel shaky?"
"Not until I lined up for the general to pin it on me."
An average American soldier.
One opportunity to serve.
Equal parts of danger and courage.
A sense of duty.
A hot enemy fire.
The other day I met in the street a man in uniform. His coat sleeves
were embroidered from shoulder to cuff with bars, stripes, insignia
and chevrons of the most gorgeous colors and fantastic designs. My
curiosity was too much for me, and I was about to stop and question
him, when I discovered he had already halted and was bursting to tell
me.
"Yes," he announced, "they are every one authorized by the War
Department. These three octangular triangles of orange mean my third
cousin did a good deal of war work. These ten vertical mauve stripes
are ten embarkations; the ten horizontal stripes denote ten times
sea-sick."
"Then you never reached France," I sympathized.
"No, but this gray dot indicates extreme disappointment. Now these
pink crosses--"
But I hurried off, and almost ran into a limping soldier with only a
small gold chevron on each arm. My curiosity again overcame me. "My
boy, how came you by those?" I asked, feeling assured he could not say
much about only two chevrons. He did not.
"Well," he answered as he passed, "I was abroad for a while, and I
happened to kind of go a little lame."
Upon a wharf where the Yanks were disembarking a reporter buttonholed
a rosy-cheeked private.
"Are you one of the heroes?" the newspaper man asked, with notebook
ready to record a stirring tale of heroism.
"Naw," was the blushing reply. "I'm only a common doughboy. But the
lieutenant, over there, is one."
To the officer indicated went the reporter.
"I'm told you're a hero, sir," he said.
"No," laughed the lieutenant. "I merely happened to be on the job when
something needed to be done, and I did it. However, I can refer you
to the simon-pure article." And he pointed out a sergeant with three
wound stripes upon his sleeve.
"Not guilty," declared the sergeant, when questioned. Then, his eyes
kindling with admiration, he waved toward a figure standing somewhat
aside from the throng. "Talk to the major. You couldn't string on a
fat man's bay window the medals he's got, and ought to have."
"Nonsense!" ejaculated the major, amusedly.
"That's what you all say!" cried the reporter, in despair. "Is
hero-ing a criminal career?"
Chuckling, the major beckoned to an ebony-hued stalwart.
"Rastus," the major said, when the Senegambian saluted and stepped
forward, "this gentleman is looking for a hero. I think you are one."
"You might say I am, sah. Dey wasn't a wusser, dangerouser job in de
army dan mine."
"What was it?" eagerly inquired the reporter.
"Mistah," Rastus solemnly informed him. "I drove a mule team plumb
thoo dis wah."
--_Terrell Love Holliday_.
"How perfectly splendid to think you're one of the heroes who went
over there to die for your country!"
"Like h--- I did, ma'am! I went over to make some other guy die for
his."--_Life_.
FATHER (endeavoring to blend instruction and amusement)--"Yes,
children, Mr. Lloyd George saved his country just as Joan of Arc saved
France."
BRIGHT CHILD--"And when are they going to burn Mr. Lloyd George,
daddy?"
HIGH COST OF LIVING
_See_ Cost of living.
HINTING
Despite the chilly spring day little Wilbur was out playing without
his coat. This worried a neighbor, but her advice went unheeded.
Finally, she said: "Wilbur, go home and get your coat, and when you
come back I'll give you a piece of cake."
The bribe worked, and Wilbur soon returned with his coat on and
was duly rewarded. Next day he knocked at the door to announce
significantly:
"I ain't got my coat on today."
HISTORY
After reading the famous poem, "The Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers,"
to the class, the teacher said: "As a drawing exercise suppose you
each draw, according to your imagination, a picture of Plymouth Rock."
All but one little fellow set to work. He paused and finally raised
his hand.
"What is it, Edgar?" the teacher asked.
"Please, ma'am," Edgar piped out, "do you want us to draw a hen or a
rooster?"
HOME
The beauty of the house is order; the blessing of the house is
contentment; the glory of the house is hospitality; the crown of the
house is godliness.
Home--The place where we are treated best and grumble most.
Home--A world of strife shut out, and a world of love within.
It is said that home is the place where a man hangs his hat, but with
a woman it is different. There is a rocker with a worn cushion, a
clock that doesn't keep time, a quilt that is worn, a strip of carpet
that is faded, a few old family pictures, an old-fashioned vase, a
meat platter, a cup and a few plates that do not match and are chipped
around the edges. These, and a few more, known in feminine language as
"her own things," are needed, in the final reckoning, to make a place
a home for a woman.
"Some day you'll be rich enough to retire from business."
"Give up my nice, pleasant office and stay home?" rejoined Mr.
Growcher. "I should say not."
HOME BREW
TIPS--"Why not try a home-brew receipt?"
TAPS--"It's this way. If I meet a friend under the influence of the
forbidden, I'm afraid he isn't able to give the receipt correctly,
and when I meet a man who has had a few drinks and doesn't feel any
happier, I'll be darned if I want the receipt."
LADY--"You say your father was injured in an explosion? How did it
happen?"
CHILD--"Well, mother says it was too much yeast, but father says it
was too little sugar."
Country people call them cellars; city people call them basements, and
some people should call them breweries.
"Did you ever hear about that home brew blowing up?"
"Yes," replied Uncle Bill Bottletop. "If the appropriations for
prohibition enforcement don't hold up, maybe we can curb the liquor
evil by bringin' it under the regulations provided for handling high
explosives."
A Detroit firm advertises "The ideal still survives." A good many
people interested suddenly in the raisin crop, who have been trying
to construct home-made stills, will be hard to convince that any still
survives--much less an ideal one.
HOMELINESS
_See_ Beauty, Personal.
HOMESICK
"You ought to be contented and not fret for your old home," said the
mistress as she looked into the dim eyes of her young Swedish maid.
"You are earning good wages, your work is light, every one is kind to
you, and you have plenty of friends here."
"Yas'm," said the girl, "but it is not the place where I do be that
makes me vera homesick; it is the place where I don't be."
HONESTY
"No," said the old man, sternly. "I will not do it. Never have I sold
anything by false representation, and I will not begin now."
For a moment he was silent, and the clerk who stood before him could
see that the better nature of his employer was fighting strongly for
the right.
"No," said the old man, again. "I will not do it. It is an inferior
grade of shoe, and I will never pass it off as anything better. Mark
it, 'A Shoe Fit for a Queen,' and put it in the window. A queen does
not have to do much walking."
George, the elderly waiter, entered the office of the famous solicitor
who usually lunched at his table in a certain restaurant and asked to
see the chief.
"Well, George," asked the man of law, when the waiter was shown in,
"what can I do for you? In trouble?"
"No, sir, not exactly that; but I've got a chance of a good job at the
Hotel Splendide, and I was wondering if you'd be so kind as to write
me a testimonial, saying I'm a good waiter, and honest, and so forth,
sir?"
"Well, George, of course I know you're a good waiter, but I don't
know anything else about you. How do I know, for example, that you're
honest?"
"Oh, well, I am, sir! You'll be quite safe in saying that."
"Very good. I'll write it, then."
"Thank you very much indeed, sir! And if at any time you come to
the Splendide and want a good lunch or dinner, be sure to come to my
tables, and I'll make you out a bill at half-price."
Aye, sir: to be honest, as this world goes, is to be one man
pick'd out of two thousand.--_Shakespeare_.
Two piles of apples lay on the ground. One contained a large-sized and
rosy selection; the fruit of the other was green and small.
"Large on the top, sir, and small at the bottom?" inquired the new
assistant of his master, as he prepared to fill a barrel.
"Certainly not!" replied the farmer, virtuously. "Honesty is the best
policy, my boy. Put the little apples at the top, and the large ones
at the bottom."
The assistant complied. His master was evidently as green as his
greenest fruit.
"Is the barrel full, my lad?" asked the farmer.
"Yes," answered the assistant.
"Good." said the farmer, "Now turn it upside down and label it!"
The man who fails to keep his word, soon finds that he cannot give his
word.
"Do you believe honesty is the best policy?" "Well, it has the
deferred dividend feature."
A Vermonter had returned home after a visit to Boston. Someone asked
him what he thought of the big city.
"It's a fine place, all right, but the folks there ain't honest," he
replied.
"Not honest! Where'd you get that idea?"
"Why, I bought a roll of pins there labeled 'A Hundred Pins for Five
Cents,' and coming home on the train I counted them; they were eleven
short."
HORSES
Two men thrown together at a horse-show were discussing their
adventures with the equine tribe.
"A horse ran away with me once, and I wasn't out for two months,"
remarked the man with the Trilby hat.
"That's nothing!" replied the man with the bowler. "I ran away with a
horse once, and I wasn't out for two years!"
A motor car was held up in a busy street by a wagon drawn by two
horses. The driver seemed in no hurry to get out of the way, and at
length one of the occupants of the motor car exclaimed sarcastically:
"Here, I say, my man! What are those things you are driving? What are
they for, I should like to know?"
"These 'ere, guv'nor?" answered the carter, flicking the horses with
his whip. "Oh, these is wot is commonly called 'orses, an' they're
sometimes used fer to take motorists to the 'orspital!"
"Do you think the motor will entirely supersede the horse?"
"I hope not," replied Farmer Corntossel. "There must be some market
fur hay. I depend on what I make on hay to buy gasoline."
HOSPITALITY
Uncle Tobey was an hospitable soul. He wanted no guest in his house
to be stinted. "Have some, have some," he invited cordially at the
supper-table, sending around the platter for the third time; "we're
going to give it to the pigs anyway."--_Judge_.
Blest be that spot, where cheerful guests retire
To pause from toil, and trim their evening fire.
Blest that abode, where want and pain repair,
And every stranger finds a ready chair;
Blest be those feasts with simple plenty crown'd,
Where all the ruddy family around
Laugh at the jest or pranks, that never fail,
Or sigh with pity of some mournful tale,
Or press the bashful stranger to his food,
And learn the luxury of doing good.
--_Goldsmith_.
It is not the quantity of the meat but the cheerfulness of the guests
which makes the feast.--_Clarendon_.
BAILIE MCTAVISH--"An' so ye leave Glesca' on Monday. What are ye daein
the morrow nicht?"
MR. JARVIE--"Tomorrow, Thursday, I've no engagement."
BAILIE--"An' the nixt nicht."
MR. J.--"I'm free then, too."
BAILIE--"An' what will ye be daein on Saturday?"
MR. J.--"On Saturday I dine with the Buchans."
BAILIE--"What a peety! Aa wanted ye to take dinner wi'us on Saturday."
A Quaker had gotten himself into trouble with the authorities and the
sheriff called to escort him to the lock-up.
"Is your husband in?" he inquired of the good wife who came to the
door.
"My husband will see thee," she replied. "Come in."
The sheriff entered, was bidden to make himself at home, and was
hospitably entertained for half an hour, but no husband appeared. At
last the sheriff grew impatient.
"Look here," said he, "I thought you said your husband would see me."
"He has seen thee," was the calm reply, "but he did not like thy looks
and has gone another way."
"My wife thinks we run a hospitable house. What's your notion of a
hospitable house?"
"Oh, for me, I feel that it's a hospitable house when in the come and
go of company enough umbrellas are left to keep it supplied."
HOSPITALS
A German, whose wife was ill at the Seney Hospital, Brooklyn, called
the first evening she was there and inquired how she was getting
along. He was told that she was improving.
Next day he called again, and was told she was still improving. This
went on for some time, each day the report being that his wife was
improving.
Finally one day he called and said:
"How iss my wife?"
"She's dead."
He went out and met a friend, and the friend said:
"Well, how is your wife?"
"She's dead"
"Ooh! How terrible! What did she die of?"
"Improvements!"
HOTEL BIBLES
_Safety_
Once upon a time there lived an elderly millionaire who had four
nephews. Desiring to make one of these his heir, he tested their
cleverness.
He gave to each a $100.00 bill, with the request that they hide the
bills for a year in the city of New York.
Any of them who should succeed in finding the hidden bill at the end
of the year should share in the inheritance.
The year being over, the four nephews brought their reports.
The first, deeply chagrined, told how he had put his bill in the
strongest and surest safe deposit vault, but, alas, clever thieves had
broken in and stolen it.
The second had put his in charge of a tried and true friend. But the
friend has proved untrustworthy and had spent the money.
The third had hidden his bill in a crevice in the floor of his room,
but a mouse had nibbled it to bits to build her nest.
The fourth nephew calmly produced his $100.00 bill, as crisp and as
fresh as when it had been given him.
"And where did you hide it?" asked his uncle.
"Too easy! I stuck it in a hotel bible."
--_Carolyn Wells_.
HOTELS
A bellhop passed through the hall of the St. Francis Hotel whistling
loudly.
"Young man," said Manager Woods sternly, "you should know that it is
against the rules of this hotel for an employee to whistle while on
duty."
"I am not whistling, sir," replied the boy, "I'm paging Mrs. Jones'
dog."
A tall, gaunt-looking person recently entered a hotel in a town where
several fires had occurred and applied for a room at a price which
entitled him to lodging on the top floor of the house. Among his
belongings the proprietor noticed a coil of rope, and asked what it
was for.
"That's a fire escape," said the man, "I carry one with me so I can
let myself down from the window without troubling anyone."
"Good plan," said the landlord, "but guests with fire escapes like
that pay in advance at this hotel."
DEPARTING GUEST--"Enjoyed ourselves? Oh yes! What I'm upset about is
leaving your hotel so soon after I've bought it."
A commercial traveler, on leaving a certain hotel, said to the
proprietor: "Pardon me, but with what material do you stuff the beds
in your establishment?"