Among the Humorists and After Dinner Speakers, Vol. 1
Page 15
very well, sir,' replied the cashier. 'Forty of our customershave paid for it, and only two have discovered the mistake.'"
* * * * *
The story is told of a young Oregon girl, a favorite in society, butwho was poor and had to take care not to get her evening gowns soiled,as their number was limited. At a dance not long ago a great, big,red-faced, perspiring man came in and asked her to dance. He wore nogloves. She looked at the well-meaning moist hands despairingly, andthought of the immaculate back of her waist. She hesitated a bit, andthen she said, with a winning smile:
"Of course I will dance with you, but if you don't mind, won't youplease use your handkerchief?"
The man looked at her blankly a moment or two. Then a light broke overhis face.
"Why, certainly," he said.
And he pulled out his handkerchief and blew his nose.
* * * * *
Willie finally persuaded his aunt to play train with him. The chairswere arranged in line and then he said:
"Now, you be engineer and I'll be the conductor. Lend me your watchand get up into your cab." He then hurried down the platform,timepiece in hand.
"Pull out there, you red-headed, pie-faced jay," he shouted to theastonished young woman.
"Why, Willie," she exclaimed in amazement.
"That's right, chew the rag," he retorted. "Pull out. We're fiveminutes late already."
They have had to forbid his playing down by the tracks.
* * * * *
Andrew Lang once wrote to Israel Zangwill to ask him to take part inan author's reading for the benefit of a charity, and received inreply the following laconic message: "If A. Lang will--I. Zangwill."
* * * * *
Mr. Peet, a rather diffident man, was unable to prevent himself frombeing introduced one evening to a fascinating young lady, who,misunderstanding his name, constantly addressed him as Mr. Peters,much to the gentleman's distress. Finally, summoning courage, hebashfully but earnestly remonstrated:
"Oh, don't call me Peters; call me Peet!"
"Ah, but I don't know you well enough, Mr. Peters," said the younglady, blushing as she playfully withdrew behind her fan.
* * * * *
Senator Tillman, of South Carolina, tells of a little girl whosestatements were always exaggerated until she became known in schooland Sunday-school as a "little liar." Her parents were dreadfullyworried about her, and made strenuous efforts to correct the badhabit. One afternoon her mother overheard an argument with herplaymate. Willie Bangs, who seemed to finish the discussion by sayingemphatically: "I'm older than you, 'cause my birthday comes first, inMay, and yours don't come until September."
"Oh, of course your birthday comes first," sneeringly answered littleNellie; "but that is 'cause you came down first. I remember looking atthe angels when they were making you."
"Come here, Nellie; come here instantly," cried her mother. "It isbreaking mother's heart," said she, "to hear you tell such awfulstories. Remember what happened to Ananias and Sapphira, don't you?"
"Oh, yes, mama, I know. They were struck dead for lying. I saw themcarried into the corner drugstore."
* * * * *
The relationship between Mr. Gladstone and his wife was one of themost beautiful the world has known, and of all the millions who lookedup to him, she was his greatest admirer. On one occasion when Mrs.Gladstone was entertaining visitors, conversation turned on the Bible,and there was a lively argument on the meaning of a certain passage.
Presently one of the callers, hoping to end the discussion, remarkeddevoutly:
"There is One alone who knows all."
The cloud vanished from Mrs. Gladstone's face and she smiled sunnilyas she said:
"Yes, and William will be down in a few minutes."
* * * * *
Mabel (testing the wisdom of the grown-ups).--"Well, how did MartinLuther die?"
Uncle Jim.--"Die? Oh, in the ordinary way, I suppose."
Mabel.--"Oh, Uncle! you really don't know anything. He wasexcommunicated by a bull."
* * * * *
Small Robbie was laboring over a drawing which was obviously of greatimportance.
His mother, who was sewing in the room, got up to see what he wasdoing.
"What is it you're drawing, dear?" she said, as she stood behind him.
Robbie was embarrassed. Struggling to cover his nervousness, heanswered with an air of great nonchalance:
"Oh, it's papa I'm drawing, but I don't care anything about it. GuessI'll put a tail to it, and have it for a dog."
* * * * *
It is told of Charles Lamb, that one afternoon, returning from adinner-party, having taken a seat in a crowded omnibus, a stoutgentleman subsequently looked in, and politely asked, "All fullinside?" "I don't know how it may be with the _other_ passengers,"answered Lamb, "but that last piece of oyster-pie did the business for_me_."
* * * * *
One of the ladies-in-waiting to the late Queen Victoria had a verybright little daughter about four years old of whom the Queen was veryfond.
The Queen invited the child to have lunch with her.
Of course the mother was highly pleased, and charged the little girlto be very careful about her table manners, and to be very polite andcareful before the Queen.
The little girl came home in high glee, and the mother asked her allabout the luncheon.
"Were you a very polite little girl? and did you remember to do all Itold you at the table?" asked the proud mama.
"Oh, yes. I was polite," said the little one, "but the Queen wasn't."
"The Queen wasn't!" said the mother. "Why, what did she do?"
"She took her chicken bone up in her fingers, and I just shook myfinger at her like you did at me, and said, 'Piggy, piggy, piggy!'"
* * * * *
A young girl once asked Mark Twain if he liked books for Christmasgifts.
"Well, that depends," drawled the great humorist. "If a book has aleather cover it is really valuable as a razor strop. If it is abrief, concise work, such as the French write, it is useful to putunder the short leg of a wabbly table. An old-fashioned book with aclasp can't be beat as a missile to hurl at a dog, and a large booklike a geography is as good as a piece of tin to nail over a brokenpane of glass."
* * * * *
One of the most candid tributes the late Edwin Booth ever received wasrendered to him on his last Southern tour by one who knew neither ofhis presence nor of his identity in the play. Mr. Booth told thestory to his friend, Dr. John H. Girdner.
"We opened our engagement in Atlanta, Ga., with 'Othello,'" said Mr.Booth, "and I played Othello. After the performance my friend, Mr.Malone, and I went to the Kimball House for some refreshment. The longbar was so crowded that we had to go around the corner of it before wecould find a vacant space. While we were waiting to be served wecouldn't help hearing the conversation of two fine-looking old boys,splendid old fellows with soft hats, flowing mustaches, and chintufts, black string ties and all the other paraphernalia.
"'I didn't see you at the theater this evening, Cunnel,' said one.
"'No,' replied the other. 'I didn't buy seats till this mawnin', andthe best we could get were six rows back in the balcony. I presume,suh, you were in the orchestra.'
"'Yes, Cunnel, I was in the orchestra,' said the first man. 'Madam andthe girls were with me. We all agreed that we nevuh attended a mo'thrillin' play. The company was good, too, excellent company. And doyou know, Gunnel, in my opinion that d--d nigguh did about as well asany of 'em!'"
* * * * *
A Southern colonel had a colored valet by the name of George. Georgereceived nearly all of the colonel's cast-off clothing. He had hiseyes on a certain pair of
light trousers which were not wearing outfast enough to suit him, so he thought he would hasten matterssomewhat by rubbing grease on one knee. When the colonel saw thespot, he called George and asked if he had noticed it. George said,"Yes, sah, Colonel, I noticed dat spot and tried mighty hard to git itout, but I couldn't."
"Have you tried gasoline?" the colonel asked.
"Yes, sah, Colonel, but it didn't do no good."
"Have you tried brown paper and a hot iron?"
"Yes, sah, Colonel, I'se done tried 'mos' everything I knows of, butdat spot wouldn't come out."
"Well, George, have you tried ammonia?" the colonel asked as a lastresort.
"No, sah, Colonel, I ain't tried 'em on yet, but I knows dey'll fit."
* * * * *
It was the first vaudeville performance the old colored lady had everseen, and she was particularly excited over the marvelous feats of themagician. But when he covered a newspaper with a heavy flannel clothand read the print through it, she grew a little nervous. He thendoubled the cloth and again read the letters accurately.
This was more than she could stand, and rising in her seat, she said:
"I'm goin' home. This ain't no place for a lady in a thin calicodress!"
* * * * *
At a certain railway junction the train divides, one portion going toEdinburgh, the other to Glasgow. The guard put his head in at one ofthe carriage windows and asked, "All here for Edinburgh?" All repliedin the affirmative except one old woman, who after the train hadstarted remarked with a smile, "I was just goin' to Glesca masel' butI wasna goin' to tell yon inquisitive deevil."
* * * * *
A pompous Bishop of Oxford was once stopped on a London street by aragged urchin.
"Well, my little man, what can I do for you?" inquired the churchman."The time o' day, please, your lordship."
With considerable difficulty the portly Bishop extracted his watch."It is exactly half-past five, my lad."
"Well," said the boy, setting his feet for a good start, "at 'alf-pastsix you go to 'ell!" and he was off like a flash and around thecorner. The Bishop, flushed and furious, his watch dangling from itschain, floundered wildly after him. But as he rounded the corner heran plump into the outstretched arms of the venerable Bishop ofLondon.
"Oxford, Oxford," remonstrated that surprised dignitary, "why thisunseemly haste?"
Puffing, blowing, spluttering, the outraged Bishop gasped out: "Thatyoung ragamuffin--I told him it was half-past five--and--he--er--toldme to go to hell at half-past six."
"Yes, yes," said the Bishop of London with a twinkle in his kindly oldeyes, "but why such haste? You've got almost an hour."
* * * * *
A lady entered a railway station not a hundred miles from Edinburghand said she wanted a ticket for London. The pale-looking clerkasked:
"Single?"
"It ain't any of your business," she replied. "I might have beenmarried a dozen times if I'd felt like providin' for some poorshiftless wreck of a man like you."
* * * * *
"M-my dear," said the muddled citizen, "I 'sure you I wouldn't beens'late, but footpad stopped me."
"And you were so scared your tongue clove to the roof of your mouth."
"How'd you know that?"
"I smell the clove."
* * * * *
A man addicted to walking in his sleep went to bed all right onenight, but when he awoke he found himself on the street in the graspof a policeman. "Hold on," he cried, "you mustn't arrest me. I'm asomnambulist." To which the policeman replied: "I don't care what yourreligion is--yer can't walk the streets in yer nightshirt."
* * * * *
"I can't keep the visitors from coming up," said the office-boydejectedly to the editor. "When I say you're out they don't believeme. They say they must see you."
"Well," said the editor, "just tell them that's what they all say. Idon't care if you 'cheek' them, but I must have quietness."
That afternoon there called at the office a lady. She wanted to seethe editor, and the boy assured her that it was impossible.
"But I must see him!" she protested. "I'm his wife!"
"That's what they all say," replied the boy. And forthwith a new boywas wanted there.
* * * * *
Mr. Weedon Grossmith used to tell a good story about a play by Mr.Robert Ganthony, which that gentleman asked him to read. Mr. Grossmithtook the comedy, but lost it on his way home. "Night after night," hesaid, "I would meet Ganthony and he would ask me how I liked his play.It was awful; the perspiration used to come out on my forehead as I'dsay sometimes, 'I haven't had time to look at it yet!' or again, 'Thefirst act was good, but I can't stop to explain,' etc., 'must catch atrain.' That play was the bane of my existence, and haunted me even inmy dreams." Some months passed, and Ganthony, a merry wag, stillpursued him without mercy. At last it occurred to Mr. Grossmith thathe might have left the comedy in the cab on the night it was given tohim. He inquired at Scotland Yard.
"Oh! yes," was the reply. "Play marked with Mr. Ganthony's name, sentback to owner four months ago, as soon as found."
* * * * *
Some years ago when Head Consul Book, of the Western Jurisdiction,Woodmen of the World, was traveling through the South, the trainstopped for some time in a small town, and Mr. Book alighted to make apurchase. The storekeeper could not make the correct change for thebill which was presented, so Mr. Book started in search of some onewho could.
Sitting beside the door, whittling a stick, was an old darky.
"Uncle," said Mr. Book, "can you change a ten-dollar bill?" The oldfellow looked up in surprise; then he touched his cap, and replied:"'Deed, an' Ah can't, boss, but Ah' 'preciates de honah, jest desame."
* * * * *
A gentleman riding with an Irishman came within sight of an oldgallows and, to display his wit, said:
"Pat, do you see that?"
"To be sure Oi do," replied Pat.
"And where would you be to-day if the gallows had its due?"
"Oi'd be riding alone," replied Pat.
* * * * *
Jerry O'Rafferty came from the north of Ireland. During all his lifethere and later in Chicago he had never been inside a Catholic Church.
He was something of a scoffer at religious ceremonies, although heknew little about them. His good friend, Michael O'Brien, was troubledat this, and always used his influence to get Jerry into the church.At last he was successful. Jerry grudgingly consented to go to churchEaster Sunday because of the importance of the occasion.
The two sat together, Jerry an interested spectator, while Mikeentered into the services like the devout man he was.
Jerry was soon evidently impressed by the splendor of hissurroundings and the grandeur of the services. He watched the lightingof the candles and listened attentively to the glorious burst ofEaster music. Then he could refrain from commenting no longer.
"Mike," he whispered, leaning over to his companion, "this batesh--l."
"Whist," replied Mike, in a loud whisper, "sich is the intintion."
* * * * *
Bishop Wilmer of Alabama, famous as a story-teller, told of one of hisfriends who had lost a dearly beloved wife and, in his sorrow, causedthese words to be inscribed on her tombstone: "The light of mine eyeshas gone out." The bereaved married within a year. Shortly afterwardthe Bishop was walking through the graveyard with another gentleman.When they arrived at the tomb, the latter asked the Bishop what hewould say of the present state of affairs, in view of the words on thetombstone. "I think," said the Bishop, "the words 'But I have struckanother match' should be added."
* * * * *
A man of letters who visited Washington recentl
y appeared at but onedinner-party during his stay. Then he sat next to the daughter of anoted naval officer. Her vocabulary is of a kind peculiar to veryyoung girls, but she rattled away at the famous man without a moment'srespite. It was during a pause in the general conversation that shesaid to him: "I'm awfully stuck on Shakespeare. Don't you think he'sterribly interesting?" Everybody listened to hear the great man'sbrilliant reply, for as a Shakespearian scholar he has few peers."Yes," he said, solemnly, "I do think he is interesting. I think he ismore than that. I think Shakespeare is just simply too cute foranything."
* * * * *
A well-known Scotch professor was occasionally called up to Balmoralto attend the late Queen Victoria, and was extremely proud of thehonor. One day a notice appeared in the university which stated thatProfessor ---- could not attend his classes that day as he had beencalled up to Balmoral to see the Queen. A waggish student who saw thenotice wrote underneath it, "God save the Queen."
* * * * *
"The other day," said a man passenger in a street-car, "I saw a womanin a street-car open a satchel and take out a purse, close the satcheland open the purse, take out a dime and close the purse, open thesatchel and put in the purse. Then she gave the dime to the conductorand took a nickel in exchange. Then she opened the satchel and tookout the purse, closed the satchel and opened the purse, put in thenickel and closed the purse, opened the satchel and put in the purse,closed the satchel and locked both ends. Then she felt to see if herback hair was all right, and it was all right, and she was all right.That was a woman."
* * * * *
As a couple of callers were in the parlor of a friend who is a firmChristian Scientist, the voice of five-year-old Florence could beheard from an upper room, fretting. Upon their inquiries about herthe mother replied simply she was suffering from a "belief" in a boil.
One of the visitors was a rather grim great-aunt of the family whopossesses a most lively scorn of Mrs. Eddy's so-called science as wellas a deep-rooted affection for little Florence. She immediatelydemanded what had been applied for her relief and as naturally theanswer was, "Nothing." She assumed her most decided expression, drewoff her gloves and started upstairs.
"Aunt Molly, what are you going to do? I must repeat it is only abelief in a boil," expostulated the mother.
"Very well," retorted Aunt Molly, continuing her march upstairs, "I ammerely going to put on a dream of a poultice."
And she did.
* * * * *
Mistress--"Did the fisherman who stopped here this morning have frog'slegs?"
Nora--"Sure, mum, I dinnaw. He wore pants."
* * * * *
When the thermometer dropped below zero Mrs. Rogers was much disturbedby the thought that Huldah, the new kitchen maid, slept in an unheatedroom.
"Huldah," she said, remembering the good old custom of her girlhood,"it's going to be pretty cold to-night. I think you had better take aflatiron to bed with you."
"Yes, ma'am," assented Huldah without enthusiasm.
Mrs. Rogers, happy in the belief that her maid was comfortable, sleptsoundly. In the morning she visited the kitchen.
"Well, Huldah, how did you get along with the flatiron?"
Huldah breathed a deep sigh of recollection.
"Vell, ma'am, I got it 'most warm before morning."
* * * * *
Many children are so crammed with everything that they really knownothing.
In proof of this, read these veritable specimens of definitions,written by public-school children:
"Stability is taking care of a stable."
"A mosquito is the child of black and white parents."
"Monastery is the place for monsters."
"Tocsin is something to do with getting drunk."
"Expostulation is to have the smallpox."
"Cannibal is two brothers who killed each other in the Bible."
"Anatomy is the human body, which consists of three parts, the head,the chist, and the stummick. The head contains the eyes and brains, ifany. The chist contains the lungs and a piece of the liver. Thestummick is devoted to the bowels, of which there are five, a, e, i,o, u, and sometimes w and y."
* * * * *
Little Polly, coming in from her walk one morning, informed her motherthat she had seen a lion in the park. No amount of persuasion orreasoning could make her vary her statement one hairbreadth. Thatnight, when she slipped down on her knees to say her prayers, hermother said, "Polly, ask God to forgive you for that fib."
Polly hid her face for a moment. Then she looked straight into hermother's eyes, her own eyes shining like stars, and said, "I did askhim, mama, dearest, and he said, 'Don't mention it, Miss Polly; thatbig yellow dog has often fooled me.'"
* * * * *
"Boohoo! Boohoo!" wailed little Johnny.
"Why, what's the matter, dear?" his mother asked comfortingly.
"Boohoo--er--p-picture fell on papa's toes."
"Well, dear, that's too bad, but you mustn't cry about it, you know."
"I d-d-didn't. I l-laughed. Boohoo! Boohoo!"
* * * * *
Two candidates for office in Missouri were stumping the northern partof the State. In one town their appearance was almost simultaneous.The candidate last arriving stopped at a house for a drink of water.To the little girl who answered his knock at the door he said--whenshe had given him the desired drink and he had offered her some candyin recompense:
"Did the man ahead of me give you anything?"
"Oh, yes," replied the girl. "He gave me candy."
"Ah!" exclaimed the candidate. "Here's five cents for you. I don'tsuppose that _he_ gave you any money?"
The youngster laughed. "Yes, he did, too! He gave me ten cents!"
Not to be outdone, the candidate gave the little one another nickeland picking her up in his arms, kissed her.
"Did he kiss you, too?" he asked genially.
"Yes, he did, sir," responded the little girl, "and he kissed ma,too."
* * * * *
The owner of a dry-goods store heard a new clerk say to a customer,"No, madam, we have not had any for a long time."
With a fierce glance at the clerk the smart employer rushed up to thewoman and said: "We have plenty of everything in reserve ma'am; plentyupstairs."
The customer and the clerk looked dazed. Then the proprietor, seeingthat something was wrong, said to the customer: "Excuse me, what didyou ask for?"
The woman simply replied, "Why, I said to your clerk that we hadn'thad any rain lately."
* * * * *
Senator W. A. Clark detests nothing more than to be interrupted whenbusy. One day he was in his office engaged in a business conversationwhen a petite woman, carrying a black bag, entered. With a compellingsmile and an insinuating manner she approached the surly millionaire.Utterly insensible to his repellent mood and indifferent to his abruptmanner she drew from the depths of a bag a handsomely bound volume,the merits and beauty of which she began eloquently to descant upon.
Failing to embarrass her with arctic frigidity and impatient at herpersistency under rebuffs all but vulgar, he turned suddenly upon thechattering woman and asked:
"Madam, do you know what my time is worth?"
She confessed it was a conundrum.
"Well," he said, petulantly, "it's worth $30 an hour!"
He turned away with the air of one who had settled the matterdefinitely beyond any further controversy. But he didn't know thewoman.
"Oh, I'm so grateful to you, Mr. Clark," she replied, with a tone ofpathos in her voice. "Thirty dollars an hour, did you say?"
"Yes; that's what I said, and it's cheap at that," and he smiledcynically.
"Oh, I know it's dirt cheap," she chirped with winsome blith
eness. "Iam so glad you told me"--rummaging in her reticule, from which shequickly flashed out a purse gorged with currency. Moving near to theastonished millionaire, who now regarded her movements with unfeignedcuriosity, she counted two bills, a ten and a five, off the roll.These she pushed along the top of the sloping desk toward him andsaid: "Yes, I'm glad you told me, because I hadn't expected to get itso cheap. There is $15. Now, I want a half hour of your uninterruptedattention while I talk to you about this book."
Clark pushed the money back and subscribed and paid for two copies ofthe book.
* * * * *
The following bit from a letter of thanks is cherished by itsrecipient: "The beautiful clock you sent us came in perfectcondition, and is now in the parlor on top of the book-shelves, wherewe hope to see you soon, and your husband, also, if he can make itconvenient."
* * * * *
Tourist (in French restaurant)--"This is awful! I've ordered threedishes from this menu and they are all potatoes!"
* * * * *
"Mistah Brown," said the old colored woman, coming into thecross-roads store, "you ain't got no spool-cotton number thirty, isyou?"
"Why, aunt Sally, I didn't say I didn't have it, did I?"
"You go long, Mistah Brown. I didn't ax you 'aint you got it?' I axedyou 'is you'?--ain't you?"
* * * * *
An old "befo-de-wah" darky was called upon to make a few remarks overthe grave of a friend. He removed his hat and stepped reverently andsadly toward the open grave and in solemn funereal tones said: