"Hold on," called the colonel, "I want to ask you a question. When Icalled you up the first time you were uncertain whether you could drinkthat bucket of beer or not, and then after a while you came back andsaid you were certain you could. How do you explain that?"
Diedrich drew the back of his hand across his mouth, and said, "Vy,colonel, dot is easy to explain. Der first time ven you ask me, I didnot know for sure. So ven I vent away, I vent over to der brewery undtgot me a bucket about so big as yours undt tried if I could--undt Ifound I could, I could; undt so I coom back here sure, sure dat I coulddrink your bucket full mit beer. See?"
THE LOGIC OF GRAMMAR
While instructing his pupils in grammar, a country school-teacher gaveout this sentence to be parsed: "Mary milks the cow." Each word had beenparsed except the last, which fell to Bob, a sixteen-year-old boy, nearthe foot of the class, who began thus:
"Cow is a noun, feminine gender, singular number, third person, andstands for Mary."
"Stands for Mary!" said the astonished teacher. "And, pray, Robert, howdo you make that out?"
"Because," answered the hopeful pupil, "if the cow didn't stand forMary, how could Mary milk the cow?"
DELIRIOUS
"Say--how much do you think I had to pay the milliner for my wife's lastspring bonnet? Thirty-six dollars and seventeen cents."
"Rather steep, isn't it? What are you going to do about it?"
"Do about it? Nothing. Because, don't you see, old man, I daren't saybeans to it. My wife has the delirium trimmins."
Mr. W. J. Lampton in the New York Times thus discourses on the tendertopic:
Millinerymania
Did you ever see such sights? Such frizzly, frazzly frights As now the lovely fair Insist that they must wear? And, say, Did you ever, in your feeble way, Attempt to calculate What it must be to keep one on straight? Heavens to Betsy, no slob Could get away with such a job! That's why no man Could wear the hat a woman can And does, and thinks She's not at all gezinx. Wow, Ain't they the dowdydow? The hats, not the women. The Autumn Lid, Deliriously displayed, Has got the Merry Wid Screaming screams for aid. Police! Police! Call out the cops To save the ladies From their tops. Oh, woman, in your hours of ease, Uncertain, coy and hard to please, Who ever gave you lids like these? Who is it has designed Such cover for your mind? This framework in a rag? This millinery jag? Who done it? Who Should get the fearful due? However, it's no matter Who is the women's hatter, They wear the goods! And say, On the level, Don't they Look like the dickens? Gee whiz, Why look pazziz, When a woman's as pretty as a woman is?
AN ECCENTRIC GREAT MAN
The handwriting of Horace Greely, the great editor, was remarkable forits illegibility. Very few people could read what he wrote, andsometimes it puzzled Mr. Greely himself. He wrote a hurried note oneday, addressed it to the editor of one of the other great New Yorkpapers, and sent it by a messenger boy. The boy duly delivered it, butthe man couldn't make it out, and sent it back. When the boy handed hisown note to Mr. Greely, he, supposing it to be a reply to his owncommunication, and being unable to read it, looked it over carefully andsaid: "Why, what does the old fool mean?" "Yes," said the boy, "that'sjust what the other man said!"
In addition to writing a poor hand Mr. Greely was very absent-minded.Leaving his office in a great hurry one day to go an errand downtown, hewrote on a card, "Back in 20 minutes," pinned it on the outside of hisoffice door and rushed out. Having changed his mind, he came back infive minutes and, seeing the notice on the door, took a seat nearby, andactually waited twenty minutes for himself to come back!
LEFT-HANDED COMPLIMENTS
A good-looking young minister was driving to the county town of B---- ina buggy. On the way he overtook a very comely young woman going the samedirection afoot. He courteously stopped and suggested that he give her alift, an offer which she gladly accepted, riding beside him severalmiles to her destination at a country farm-house. On descending from thevehicle she thanked him for his kindness, and he very politely said,"Don't mention it--don't mention it." And she said, "No, I won't. Iwon't tell. I'm as much ashamed of it as you are!"
When he was within two miles of the town he overtook a young lawyer whowas returning afoot from a visit to a country client, and took himaboard, and the two had some sharp passages as they rode along. Now, itchanced that a man was to be hanged for murder the next day in the town,and the carpenters were busy erecting the gallows in the yard of thejail. When the two came to the hill which overlooks the town of B----,they could plainly see the top of the gallows above the wall of thejail. Pointing then to the jail the minister said:
"If the gallows had its due, where would you be?"
"I'd be riding into town alone, I reckon," was the answer.
A REST AND A CHANGE
"My friend Dickinson," said the colonel, "is a very witty fellow. Hemade a very witty reply lately. He had been sent down to a certaincelebrated seaside resort by his physician for a rest and a change, andit was understood that he was to spend at least a month there, but atthe end of a week he turned up again in his home town, and when peopleasked him why he had come back so soon, his reply was:
"Well, you see, the doctor sent me down there for a rest and a change,and I went down and tried it; but by the end of a week I found that thewaiters at the hotel were getting all the change, and the man that keptthe hotel got all the rest, and so I just had to come home torecopperate, you know."
THE SAME OLD KIND
"When I was down there in Atlantic City," said Dickinson with thatdelightful drawl of his, "I went one day into a shoe store on 'TheAvenue,' as they call the business street of the town, and lookedaround. The clerk came up smiling and asked could he wait on me, and Isaid he could if he had any 'crochetted overshoes.' That made himscratch his head. 'Must be a new kind,' said he. 'Oh, no,' said I.'They've been in use some years.' 'But,' said he, 'I can't see what usecrochet work would be on overshoes. Why, the rain and mud would spoilit all in a short time.' 'Oh, no,' said I. 'You don't catch on. I am notlooking for overshoes with crochet work on them, but for crochettedovershoes--overshoes that are crow-shade; black ones, you understand?'"
A TOUGH GOOSE-YARN
It is hard to tell whether the biggest liars live by the sea or on themountain, but certainly the sailor folk will have a time of it to matchone Bob Sempers, one of the most elastic of all the prevaricators on thePocono Mountain. Here is a story Bob told a party of gentlemen huntersnot long ago:
"You know where I live. About three mile from the Big Lake. Well--oneevenin' last spring when I was goin' home, I see a flock o' geesea-settlin' on the lake. I got up bright an' early next mornin', tookdown my shootin' iron an' started for the lake to try my luck. When Igot there I found they were out o' gun shot, an' I knowed 'twan't no useto shoot at that distance. I'd jist skeer 'em away if I did. So, Istood there thinkin' what best to do. I see a fox come down to the wateredge and stand there a minnit or so a-snuffin' the air. I'd a mind toshoot him, but I thought I'd wait an' see what he'd do. Well, sir, hejust plumped into the water an' made for them geese. They were allhuddled together about a half a mile from the shore. After swimmin' upto within a few yards of 'em, he suddenly disappeared, and in a fewminnits a goose was drawn under water. Then the fox swum ashore an' laidthe dead goose on the bank, and went back fer another snap, an' so hekep on till he got the whole flock, an' I waited till he brought in thelast one, an' then I shot him.
"Well, sir, I found when I come to count 'em, that I had just fifty nicefat geese, which I lugged home together with my gun an' the dead fox.An' when I got home I found my old woman hadn't the breakfast quiteready yet."
"'But, Bob,' said some one, 'the fox had to swim a mile for eachgoose--half a mile each way--consequently he had to swim just fiftymiles. And the geese averaged, say, six pounds; so
that you had threehundred pounds of goose-flesh to carry three miles, to say nothing ofthe dead fox and your gun--impossible!'
"'Impossible or not,' maintained Bob, 'every word is truth, and I canprove it, too, by more than a dozen of my neighbors, to each of whom Isold enough feathers to fill a feather-bed.'"
FIRST CLASS
A company of tourists were traveling in Switzerland, and they went tobuy tickets for the coach-ride up the mountain. The American man ofcourse bought a first-class ticket, but he noticed that all the rest gotsecond and third class, and they all got into the wagon with him. Hesaid to the driver, "What advantage is there in paying for a first classticket when holders of second and third class tickets have precisely thesame accommodations?" The driver said, "You just wait a while and youwill see." So by and by they came to a steep hill, and the driver calledout, "First class passengers will keep their seats; second classpassengers will get out and walk; third class passengers will get outand push."
* * * * *
They have a new brand of whiskey down in Kentucky known as "The Horn ofPlenty," because it will corn-you-copiously.
* * * * *
"In the Blue Grass section of Kentucky was I born, where all the corn isfull of kernels--and all the colonels full of corn."
AN AWFUL LOT OF PRACTICE
Chauncey Depew spoke one evening during a political campaign at a townin the interior of New York State, which it is not necessary to name.The next morning the chairman of the local committee took him in hiscarriage for a ride about the place. They had reached the suburbs andwere admiring a bit of scenery when a man wearing a blue shirt andcarrying a long whip on his shoulder approached from where he had beenpiloting an ox-team along the middle of the street and said:
"You're the man that made the rattlin' speech up at the hall last night,I guess?"
Mr. Depew modestly admitted that he had indulged in some talk at thetime and place specified.
"Didn't you have what you said writ out?" went on the man.
"No," replied the orator.
"You don't mean to say you made that all up as you went along?"
"Yes."
"Jess hopped right up there, took a drink o' water out of the pitcher,hit the table a whack and waded in without no thinkin' nor nothing?"
"Well, I suppose you might put it that way."
"Well, that beats me. You'll excuse me for stoppin' you, but what Iwanted to say was that your speech convinced me, though I knowed all thetime it was the peskiest lie that was ever told. I made up my mind tovote your ticket, but I'd 'a' been willin' to bet a peck o' red applesthat no man could stand up and tell such blamed convincin' lies withouthavin' 'em writ out. You must 'a' had an awful lot o' practice."
"WHO'D 'A' BIN 'ER?"
A lady living in Ohio is the mother of six boys. One day a friend calledon her, and during the conversation said: "What a pity that one of yourboys had not been a girl." One of the boys, about eight years old,overheard the remark, and promptly interposed, "I'd like to know who'd'a' bin 'er. Ed wouldn't 'a' bin 'er, Joe wouldn't 'a' bin 'er, Petewouldn't 'a' bin 'er, I wouldn't 'a' bin 'er, blame ef I would, an' I'dlike to know who'd 'a' bin 'er?"
"IN THE WAY THEY SHOULD GO"
Mrs. Hobbs was the parent of an infant terror and several half-grownterrors besides. One day at table she said, "Well, Mr. Hobbs, since youare so dissatisfied with the way I am bringing up our darling Willie,maybe you will condescend to inform me how you would bring up boys?"
"Certainly," said Hobbs. "Every boy ought to be kept in a hogshead, andfed through the bung-hole until he is twelve years of age."
"And when he reaches the age of twelve?"
"Stop up the bung-hole."
"NO THOROUGHFARE"
A toll-gate was recently established on a road leading to Little Rock,Ark.; and an old negro who came along with an ox-team was muchastonished. "Wall, ef dis doan cap de climax," said he. "Ain satisfiedwid chargin' folks fur ridin' on de train and steamboat, but wanster tocharge him fur ridin' in his own waggin!" "That's the law of thecorporation, old man." "Wat's de corporation got to do wid my waggin?""Got nothing to do with your wagon, but they have a right to make youpay for riding over their road." "Ain dis er a free country?" "Yes. Butthis is not a free road." "But de road's in the country. What does yerlaw say yer may charge?" "One horse, five cents; a horse and buggy, tencents; two horses and a wagon, twenty cents." "Well, dese here ain'thorses, 'case da's steers. De law doan say nuthin' about dem. Whoa,dar! Come 'ere!" And to the astonishment of the gate-keeper, the oldfellow drove away.
THE OTHER EYE
Standing outside his club one afternoon Mr. Gilbert was approached by astranger who asked, "I beg pardon, sir, but do you happen to know agentleman, a member of this club, a man with one eye called 'Matthews'?""No, I don't think I do," replied Mr. Gilbert. Then after a pause hequickly added, "What's the name of his other eye?"
KEEPING A SECRET
The Confederate general, Stonewall Jackson, had been on one occasionmost hospitably entertained in the house and by the family of an oldVirginia friend. It was known at the time that some very importantmovement of the Confederate army was afoot, and just as the greatgeneral was about to take his departure from the house in which he hadbeen so royally received, the host, eager with curiosity and presumingon old friendship, took the general aside, and begged him for someinformation as to the coming demonstrations. Passing his armaffectionately around his old friend General Jackson said in a whisper,"My dear friend, can you keep a secret?" "Yes--Yes!" was the eagerreply. "And so can I," was the response, as the general mounted hishorse.
A SHARP REPROOF
A preacher was much annoyed by the whispering and laughing of some youngfolks in the rear of the church. Stopping in the midst of his discourseand looking intently at them until all had become still, he said:
"I hesitate to reprove those who are inattentive and noisy. I will tellyou why. Some years since, as I was preaching, a young man sat before mewho was constantly laughing and making queer faces. It annoyed me verymuch, and I gave him a very severe rebuke. After the close of theservices a gentleman said to one, 'Sir, you made a great mistake; thatyoung man is an idiot.' Since that time I always hesitate to reprovethose who misbehave in church, lest I should again find myself in theerror of rebuking an idiot." There was order during the rest of theservice.
IT WOULDN'T WORK
Lazily sauntering along on the gay boardwalk, enjoying the stiff saltbreeze and paying due attention to the merry throng always passing upand down, my attention was called to a certain rolling chair whoseoccupant I thought I knew. Wasn't that Barney Schmitt? Barney, you mustknow, keeps one of the very best cafes in existence, up in one of themost flourishing towns in Eastern Pennsylvania. I knew he had beensuffering greatly from rheumatism for a year past, but had lost track ofhim recently and supposed him to be in the doctor's hands at some WaterCure up in New York State--and here he was, fat and puffy, all coveredup with a big steamer rug in a rolling chair. I stopped the chair andsaid, "Hello, Barney, that you?"
"Yes," said he, "diss iss me. I vish to Himmel it wass somepody else."
"Well, how are you? Better I hope?"
Barney shook his head with a rueful countenance. "No, I'm no petter.I've tried everything in all greation from a lemon to Gristian Ziance,undt it all does no good."
"Christian Science? So you tried that, did you? How did it work?"
"Let me tell you," said the suffering Barney with a smile that mighthave been mistaken for a wince. "You know I went up to der Wasser-Cure,up dere in New York. I had plasters undt pads all ofer my pody, undtwalked mit a pair of grutches. De first evening I got dere, I wasssettin' in der parlor tryin' hard to keep from hollerin' mit der pain,undt a woman come up to me--one of dese here Gristian Ziance women, youknow, a mighty purty, sweet-faced woman she wass, too--undt she says tome, says she:
&nb
sp; "'Vat iss der matter mit you, Mr. Schmitt?' Undt I toldt her apoudt myrheumatism, undt den she says:
"'Mr. Schmitt, dere iss nodings der matter mit you. You only think dereiss. It iss all in your mindt. It issn't in your pody. Your pody can'tfeel noding. It iss your mindt vat feels. Your rheumatism iss all inyour mindt. All you have got to do iss to get your mindt changed, yousee, undt you vill be all right.
"'Now, Mr. Schmitt, I tell you vat to do undt you vill soon be vell. Venyou go to bed to-night, you make your mindt nice undt quiet like, fillyour heart full mit good thoughts of peace undt joy; say a nice littleprayer, undt go to sleep. Den, in de morning, ven you get avake, youcompose your mindt mit peaceful thoughts, you say a nice little prayerto yourself, and you yusht say: "Mr. Schmitt! Dere iss nodings dermatter mit you--you are vell undt shtrong!" Undt you jump out of de bed,undt dere you are!'"
"All right. I did all vat she said. I vent to bed. I said a nice leetleprayer, vat my mudder taught me, in der German language, undt I vent tosleep.
"In der morning I get awake. I haf very peaceful undt peautifulthoughts, undt I say to myself:
"'Barney Schmitt, you are a tam fool. Dere iss nodings der matter mityou. You are all right.'
The Funny Bone: Short Stories and Amusing Anecdotes for a Dull Hour Page 8