Bartlett's Book of Anecdotes

by Clifton Fadiman

  ARNO, Peter [Curtis Arnoux Peters] (1904–68), US cartoonist whose work appeared regularly in The New Yorker.

  1 Peter Arno imported a racing car from Europe for his own personal use. Among its unique features were fenders made of platinum. Once the car was safely through customs at New York, Arno had the fenders taken off and replaced by ordinary steel fenders. He then sold off the platinum at a large profit.

  ARNOLD, Matthew (1822–88), British poet and critic who was professor of poetry at Oxford (1857–67).

  1 Arnold’s cold reserve and critical eye did not endear him to the Americans on his American tour in 1883. There is a story that when his hostess offered him pancakes, Arnold passed the plate on to his wife with the comment: “Do try one, my dear. They’re not nearly as nasty as they look.”

  2 As critic and moralist, Arnold attacked the philistinism of the British middle class of his time, upholding rather severe, even dismaying standards of intellectual rigor and moral seriousness. Shortly after his death Robert Louis Stevenson remarked, “Poor Matt. He’s gone to Heaven, no doubt — but he won’t like God.”

  ARNOULD, [Madeleine] Sophie (1740–1802), French actress and opera singer.

  1 The dancer Marie Guimard was a star of the Paris Opéra; her art consisted mainly in rhythmical arm movements and graceful poses, and her fame resided principally in her celebrated liaisons with members of the aristocracy. When Mlle Guimard’s arm was broken by some falling scenery, Sophie Arnould remarked, “What a pity it wasn’t her leg; then it wouldn’t have interfered with her dancing.”

  2 After a supper she had given for several distinguished personages, Sophie Arnould was visited by the lieutenant of police, demanding their names. She replied that she could not remember one. Said the lieutenant, “But a woman like you ought to remember things like that.”

  “Of course, lieutenant, but with a man like you I am not a woman like me.”

  3 A rival actress had been presented by her lover with a magnificent diamond rivière. The necklace was rather too long and as worn by the actress it seemed to be about to disappear down her cleavage. Sophie Arnould commented, “C’est qu’elle retourne vers sa source” (It’s just returning to its source).

  4 Another actress consistently produced a child every year, with predictable consequences to her figure. The result was that she regularly lost both theatrical engagements and lovers. “She reminds me of those nations that are always extending their boundaries but cannot retain their conquests,” remarked Sophie Arnould.

  ARRIA (d. AD 42), wife of the Roman senator Caecina Paetus.

  1 Accused of involvement in a plot against the emperor, Paetus was ordered to commit suicide. When he hesitated, Arria took the dagger from him, stabbed herself, and handed the dagger back with the words: “Paete, non dolet” (Paetus, it does not hurt).

  ASCHE, [John Stanger Heiss] Oscar (1872–1936), Australian actor, playwright, and theatrical manager.

  1 Asche was once playing a particularly bad game of golf on a Scottish course. After an uncharacteristically good stroke, he risked a casual remark to his caddie: “You’ll have seen worse players than I am.” When the caddie, an elderly Scot, did not reply, Asche assumed that he had not heard and repeated the remark. “I heard ye afore,” said the caddie. “I was just considerin’.”

  ASOKA (d. c. 232 BC), emperor of India (c. 273–c. 232 BC), the greatest of the kings of the Mauryan dynasty.

  1 At the outset of his reign Asoka ruled with the savagery that had characterized the previous rulers of the kingdom of Magadha in northern India. At his capital (modern Patna), there was a fearful prison called “Asoka’s Hell,” from which, it was decreed, none could emerge alive. One of its victims was a Buddhist saint who had been wrongfully accused. When the torturers threw him into a cauldron of boiling water, he remained unscathed. The jailer informed the king that he should come and see this miracle. Asoka came and wondered. He was about to depart when the jailer reminded him of the edict that no one was to leave the prison alive. Asoka thereupon gave orders that the jailer was to be thrown into the boiling cauldron.

  His experience in the prison deeply affected Asoka’s outlook. Shortly afterward, he gave orders that the prison was to be demolished and he himself became a convert to Buddhism. The pillars containing his edicts bear witness to the humanity and justice of his rule after his conversion.

  ASQUITH, Herbert Henry, 1st Earl of Oxford and Asquith (1852–1928), British statesman and Liberal prime minister (1908–16).

  1 “The nineteenth-century Rothschild family kept great state in, among other places, their home in Waddesdon, where Alfred Rothschild lived. One day Prime Minister Asquith, who was staying from Friday till Monday, was waited on at teatime by the butler. The following conversation ensued: ‘Tea, coffee or a peach from off the wall, sir?’ ‘Tea, please.’ ‘China, Indian or Ceylon, sir?’ ‘China, please.’ ‘Lemon, milk or cream, sir?’ ‘Milk, please.’ ‘Jersey, Hereford or Shorthorn, sir?…’”

  ASQUITH, Margot (1864–1945), second wife of Lord Herbert Henry Asquith.

  1 When Jean Harlow, the platinum-blonde American movie star of the 1930s, met Lady Asquith for the first time, she addressed Lady Asquith by her Christian name. She made the further mistake of pronouncing the word as if it rhymed with rot. Lady Asquith corrected her: “My dear, the t is silent, as in Harlow.”

  2 Margot Asquith did not like the famous British sportsman Lord Lonsdale, renowned for his fine horses and his courage in the hunting field. Someone in Lady Asquith’s hearing once praised his prowess as a rider to hounds. “Jump?” she interrupted. “Anyone can jump. Look at fleas.”

  3 Her stepdaughter, Violet Bonham-Carter, once asked if she planned to wear a certain hat trimmed with ostrich feathers to Lord Kitchener’s memorial service. Margot replied, “How can you ask me? Dear Kitchener saw me in that hat twice!”

  4 Lady Asquith had a poor opinion of several of George V’s advisers. After his death the king’s doctor, Lord Dawson, was one of those who fell victim to her sharp tongue. She once remarked to Lord David Cecil, “Lord Dawson was not a good doctor. King George himself told me that he would never have died had he had another doctor.”

  ASTAIRE, Fred [Frederick Austerlitz] (1899–1987), US stage and film dancer.

  1 Attracted by Hollywood as a young dancer, Astaire submitted himself for the usual screen test. The verdict has become part of film history: “Can’t act. Slightly bald. Can dance a little.”

  2 (David Niven tells a story about his good friend Astaire, who had become the owner of a winning string of racehorses.)

  “The most balanced of men in every sense of the word, he only once to my knowledge went mad. At dawn one day Fred called me and announced his mental aberration. ‘I’ll never know what made me do it,’ he moaned, ‘but I had this overpowering urge … so I got up in the middle of the night and drove all over Beverly Hills painting the mailboxes with my racing colors.’”

  3 Fred’s wife Phyllis Astaire and David Niven came to RKO to watch the filming of his “Cheek to Cheek” number in the musical Top Hat, with his partner, Ginger Rogers. Ginger came in for the first take in a dress composed entirely of red feathers. “She looks like a wooster,” giggled Phyllis.

  It turned out the dress was ready only just in time. The dance began. “Slowly, one at a time at first, the feathers parted company with the parent garment. Then, as Fred whirled Ginger faster and faster about the gleaming set, more and more flew off. It became reminiscent of a pillow fight at school, but they pressed bravely on with the number, and by the end Ginger looked ready to spit…. Phyllis pulled my sleeve. ‘Let’s get out of here,’ she said, ‘Fwed will be so embawassed.’”

  ASTOR, John Jacob (1763–1848), US financier who was reputed to be the richest man in the United States.

  1 Astor once observed to Julia Ward Howe, “A man who has a million dollars is as well off as if he were rich.”

  2 Astor sold a lot near Wall Street for $8,000. The buyer, confident
that he had outsmarted Astor, could not resist a little self-congratulation after the signing of the papers. “Why, in a few years this lot will be worth twelve thousand dollars,” he gloated. “True,” said Astor, “but with your eight thousand I will buy eighty lots above Canal Street, and by the time your lot is worth twelve thousand, my eighty lots will be worth eighty thousand dollars.”

  ASTOR, Mary Dahlgren (c. 1850–94), wife of financier William Waldorf Astor.

  1 When her friends Elizabeth Marbury and Elsie de Wolfe (Lady Mendl) began to throw large and rather daring parties at Irving House (their Manhattan home), with colorful personalities as the attraction, Mrs. Astor was determined not to be left out. “I am having a bohemian party, too,” she announced. Asked who would be there to provide the necessary spice, she said, “J. P. Morgan and Edith Wharton.”

  ASTOR, Nancy Witcher Langhorne, Viscountess (1879–1964), US-born politician who became the first woman to take a seat in the British House of Commons.

  1 Male antagonism toward Nancy Astor as the first woman to gain a seat in the House of Commons showed itself on several occasions, Winston Churchill in particular being guilty of discourtesy. When she challenged him about his behavior, he told her that it was because he found her intrusion into the all-male preserve embarrassing — as embarrassing as if she had burst into his bathroom when he had nothing to defend himself with. “Winston,” she retorted, “you are not handsome enough to have worries of that kind.”

  2 Particularly irksome to the antifeminists in the House of Commons was Lady Astor’s opinion that it was unnecessary for her to prove herself the equal of her male colleagues since women are the superior sex. “I married beneath me — all women do,” said she.

  3 Since Lady Astor believed in making her presence felt in the House of Commons, she rather too frequently interrupted other speakers. Castigated for this on one occasion, she protested that she had been listening for hours before interrupting. “Yes, we’ve heard you listening,” said an exasperated colleague.

  4 During a formal dinner, Lady Astor remarked to her neighbor that she considered men to be more conceited than women. Noticing that her comment had been heard around the table, she continued in a loud voice: “It’s a pity that the most intelligent and learned men attach least importance to the way they dress. Why, right at this table the most cultivated man is wearing the most clumsily knotted tie!” The words had no sooner left her lips than every man in the room surreptitiously reached up to adjust his tie.

  5 At a dinner given by Theodore Roosevelt, Nancy Astor was given precedence over Grace Vanderbilt. By way of excuse and consolation she remarked to Mrs. Vanderbilt, “The Astors skinned skunks a hundred years before the Vanderbilts worked ferries.”

  6 “[During the early thirties Winston] Churchill’s critics called him rash, impetuous, tactless, contentious, inconsistent, unsound, an amusing parliamentary celebrity who was forever out of step. ‘We just don’t know what to make of him,’ a troubled Tory MP told Lady Astor. She asked brightly: ‘How about a nice rug?’”

  ATKINSON, Christopher Thomas (1874–1964), British academic at Oxford.

  1 During one course of lectures Atkinson found himself confronted with a group of girl students. He began by saying that his talk that morning would be on the sexual prowess of the natives of the Polynesian islands. The shocked ladies made a concerted rush for the door. Atkinson called after them, “It’s all right, ladies, you needn’t hurry. There’s not another boat for a month.”

  ATLAS, Charles (1894–1972), US circus strongman, born Angelo Siciliano.

  1 In his early days Atlas performed with the Coney Island Circus Side Show. His demonstrations of strength included lifting two men off the floor, tearing telephone books in half with his bare hands, and lying on a bed of nails with three members of the audience standing on his chest. Of this last feat he once remarked: “Women used to faint when I did that. They couldn’t stand watching a beautiful body like mine being abused.”

  AUBER, Daniel François Esprit (1782–1871), French composer.

  1 An infant prodigy had written a score that caused a sensation on account of the “originality” displayed by one so young. Said Auber, “This lad will go far when he has less experience.”

  2 A friend of Auber’s engaged him in conversation as they descended the grand stairway at the Opéra. “My friend, we’re all getting older, aren’t we?” he observed. Auber sighed. “Well, there’s no help for it. Aging seems to be the only available way to live a long time.”

  3 Auber refused to think about death and whenever reminded of the approach of his last hour would say, “I’ll pay no attention to it.” But in his late old age he began to accommodate himself to his own mortality. At a funeral service that he was compelled to attend, he remarked to one of his fellow mourners, “I believe this is the last time I’ll take part as an amateur.”

  AUBERNON, Euphrasie (1825–99), French salonnière and woman of letters.

  1 Mme Aubernon presided as an absolute autocrat over her salon: she decided the topics to be discussed, dictated who should speak and for how long, prohibited any asides or tête-à-têtes, and enforced her guests’ attention by ringing a little hand bell. A surprising number of the Parisian intelligentsia meekly submitted to this conversational tyranny, but there were occasional rebellions. On one occasion the witty and charming Mme Baignières arrived rather late. Before she had time to catch her breath, Mme Aubernon rang her bell and said, “We are discussing adultery, Mme Baignières. Will you give us your opinions?” Mme Baignières replied, “I’m so sorry. I’ve only come prepared with incest.”

  2 A young matron keen to set herself up as a salonnière came to Mme Aubernon for counsel. Mme Aubernon’s advice: “Don’t try. You have far too luscious a bosom to keep the conversation general.”

  3 One of Mme Aubernon’s guests was relating a conversation with his young son.

  “Papa,” the child had asked, “when you and Maman went on your honeymoon in Italy, where was I?”

  “What did you tell him?” asked Mme Aubernon eagerly.

  “I thought for a moment,” replied the guest, “then I said, ‘You went there with me and came back with your mother.’”

  AUBIGNÉ, Jean Henri Merle d’ (1794–1872), Swiss Protestant divine.

  1 When Dr. d’Aubigné was staying with the Scottish divine and preacher Thomas Chalmers, he was served a kippered herring for breakfast. He asked his host the meaning of the word “kippered” and was told “kept” or “preserved.” This item of information had a sequel at morning prayer, when the guest, leading the household in their devotions, prayed that Dr. Chalmers might be “kept, preserved, and kippered.”

  AUDEN, Wystan Hugh (1907–73), British poet who became an American citizen.

  1 The Nazis, opposed to the anti-Nazi material in her routines, deprived the cabaret artiste Erika Mann, daughter of novelist Thomas Mann, of her passport. She appealed to the homosexual Isherwood as an available Englishman to marry her so that she could obtain an English passport. Isherwood dodged, but Auden generously agreed to marry her and she duly obtained her English passport. Soon afterward a former stage associate of Erika’s, who had also lost her passport on account of her anti-Nazi stand, appealed to the Audens for help. Searching around among his acquaintances, Auden found another member of their homosexual circle who gallantly agreed to marry the second lady. “What else are buggers for?” observed Auden.

  2 Auden was surprised to learn from a third party that Mike De Lisio, his sculptor friend, wrote poetry in his spare time and had had some of his verses published in The New Yorker. “How nice of him never to have told me,” said Auden.

  3 Auden, about to begin a course of lectures on Shakespeare at the New School for Social Research in New York City, noted that every seat was filled. Surveying the sea of faces extending right to the back of the large auditorium, Auden announced: “If there are any of you who do not hear me, please don’t raise your hands because I am also nearsigh
ted.”

  4 As a young, little-known writer, Auden was once asked what effect fame might have upon him. “I believe,” he said after a moment’s reflection, “that I would always wear my carpet slippers.” When fame did eventually come, Auden was always to be seen in carpet slippers, even when wearing evening dress.

  5 Just before a lecture Auden was to give at Harvard on Don Quixote, he was seen to have a few too many martinis. When he began speaking, he first apologized for his new set of dentures, then admitted he’d never actually read through the entire book and doubted whether anyone in the crowd had either.

  6 Just after acquiring his first set of dentures, Auden attended a tea party given by some ladies in Boston. When his hostess asked him to blow out the flame under the teapot, Auden did so with gusto. “My dear,” he later said, “the din! My uppers went crashing into my neighbor’s empty teacup!”

  7 Dorothy Day, founder of the Catholic Worker Movement, was fined $250 because her hostel for indigents was not up to code. As she headed to work the next morning, she walked through a group of homeless men, one of whom stepped out and, saying he had heard she was in trouble, handed her a check. “Here’s two-fifty,” said the man. Day looked at the check later, but instead of the $2.50 she thought she had received, it was for the entire sum, and it was signed “W. H. Auden.” “Poets do look a bit unpressed, don’t they?” Day later said.

  8 Three of Auden’s great admirers happened to be together when the news of his death was reported on the radio: the poet Richard Wilbur, the critic Alfred Kazin, and Kazin’s wife, Ann Birstein. In one voice they immediately said, “Earth, receive an honoured guest” — a line from Auden’s elegy for W. B. Yeats.