SMITH, Alfred Emanuel (1873–1944), US politician.
1 Smith was in Albany for a political convention, along with James Walker, Herbert Lehman, and many others. One morning, after a night of heavy drinking, Smith and Walker, both Catholic, felt that they ought to go to early mass as it was a Roman Catholic holy day. Tiptoeing through the hotel suite, they looked wistfully at Lehman and their other Jewish colleagues, who were still peacefully sleeping off the effects of the previous night’s excesses. Turning to Walker, Smith said, “Gee, I hope we’re right!”
2 Irritated by the constant interruptions of a heckler, Smith once paused in the middle of a speech. “Go ahead, Al, don’t let me bother you,” shouted the heckler. “Tell ’em all you know. It won’t take you long.” Smith was quick to respond. “If I tell ’em all we both know,” he cried, “it won’t take me any longer.”
3 During one of his terms as governor of New York, Smith was late for a broadcast he was due to make. He hailed a taxi to take him to the radio station, but the driver, who did not recognize the governor, refused to take him. He explained that he was in a hurry himself, anxious to be home in time to hear Governor Smith talk on the radio. Smith, flattered, held out a five-dollar bill and repeated his request. The driver’s eyes lit up. “Hop in, mister,” he said, “and to hell with the governor.”
SMITH, Bessie (1894–1937), US jazz singer.
1 In September 1937 Bessie Smith, traveling with her white business manager near Clarksdale, Mississippi, was seriously injured in an auto accident. The doctor who arrived on the scene directed that the manager, who was suffering from concussion, should be sent to the nearby hospital but that the singer should go to a “blacks only” hospital many miles away. She bled to death before she got there.
SMITH, Charlotte (1973–), US college basketball player.
1 The University of North Carolina women’s basketball team, National College Athletic Association champions, had less than one second to play, and were facing a 59-57 loss against rival team Louisiana Tech. At the buzzer Smith sank a three-point basket, winning the game 60-59 and taking the team to the next championship. Her secret for the amazing shot? “I knew I had to do it. It was an order from the coach.”
SMITH, F[rederick] E[dwin], 1st Earl of Birkenhead (1872–1930), British barrister and Conservative politician.
1 A distinguished Oxford don had a particular way of snubbing clever young undergraduates. He would invite the student to accompany him on a long walk, leaving it to his companion to start the conversation. After a lengthy silence the embarrassed student would usually make some banal remark, and would immediately be crushed by the don’s reply.
The undergraduate F. E. Smith, aware of the don’s tactics, set off for the walk with his own plan of action carefully worked out. The two men walked in complete silence for more than an hour, and for once it was the don’s turn to feel embarrassed. “They tell me,” he was finally compelled to utter, “they tell me you’re clever, Smith. Are you?”
“Yes,” replied Smith.
No further word was exchanged until the men returned to the college. “Good-bye, sir,” said Smith. “I’ve so much enjoyed our talk.”
2 As a young man Smith represented a tramway company in a suit brought by a boy who had been blinded. The judge directed that the boy be lifted onto a chair so that the jury could see him properly. Thinking this made an undue emotional appeal to the jury’s sympathy, Smith protested: “Your Honor, why not pass the boy around the jury box?” The judge rebuked him for his improper remark. “Prompted,” Smith said, “by an equally improper suggestion.” Preferring not to pursue that one, the judge tried to quash the young lawyer by quoting Francis Bacon at him: “Youth and discretion are ill-wedded companions.” Smith was ready with a counter-quotation: “My lord, the same Bacon also said that a much-talking judge was like an ill-tuned cymbal.” The judge frowned. “Now you are being offensive, Mr. Smith,” he said. “We both are,” agreed Smith. “The difference is that I am trying to be, and you can’t help it.”
3 Smith once cross-examined a young man claiming damages for an arm injury caused by the negligence of a bus driver. “Will you please show us how high you can lift your arm now?” asked Smith. The young man gingerly raised his arm to shoulder level, his face distorted with pain. “Thank you,” said Smith. “And now, please will you show us how high you could lift it before the accident?” The young man eagerly shot his arm up above his head. He lost his case.
4 Smith was cross-examining a rather nervous witness. “Have you ever been married?” he asked.
“Yes, sir,” replied the witness, “once.”
“Whom did you marry?”
“A — er — a woman, sir.”
“Of course, of course,” snapped Smith impatiently. “Did you ever hear of anyone marrying a man?”
“Er — yes, sir,” ventured the witness. “My sister did.”
5 Smith was conducting a lengthy and complicated case before a judge whom he regarded as slow and pedantic. As the case drew to its close, the judge intimated that some of the issues involved were no longer clear to him, upon which Smith gave the judge a short but very cogent account of all the issues and their implications. As Smith sat down, the judge thanked him courteously, but added, “I’m sorry, Mr. Smith, but I regret that I am none the wiser.” Smith rose wearily to his feet again. “Possibly, my lord, but you are better informed.”
6 Smith annoyed the patrons of London’s Athenaeum Club, of which he was not a member, by frequently making use of their toilet facilities on his way to the House of Lords. One day a porter drew his attention to the fact that the club was for members only. “Oh,” said Smith, “is it a club as well?”
7 Smith had many contentious moments in the particular courtroom of a Judge Willis. Once Willis, deeply exasperated and tired from the constant tangles with Smith, asked him, “What do you suppose I am on the bench for?” Smith replied instantly, “It is not for me, your Honour, to attempt to fathom the inscrutable workings of Providence.”
8 Trapped by a club bore who would not stop talking, Smith in desperation called over a waiter, to whom he said, “Would you mind listening to the end of this gentleman’s story?”
SMITH, Sydney (1771–1845), British clergyman and author.
1 At a gathering Sydney Smith met the lawyer and philosopher Sir James Mackintosh with his young Scottish cousin, an ensign in one of the Scots regiments. The young man asked Sir James in an undertone whether this was “the great Sir Sidney Smith,” hero of the defense of Acre against Napoleon in 1799. Before Sir James could put the young man right, Sydney Smith had embarked on an account of the siege of Acre, complete with description of guns and attacks and counterattacks. The young ensign was entranced by this display of friendliness on the part of the famous admiral, while the rest of the party scarcely knew how to keep a straight face.
A few days later Sir James and his cousin met Sydney Smith and his wife walking in the street. Smith introduced his wife and they talked for a few minutes. As the Smiths moved on, the young Scot said in a low voice, “I didna think the great Sir Sidney was married.”
“Why, er, no,” said Sir James, floundering for a moment before inspiration struck, “no, not exactly married — only an Egyptian slave he brought over with him. Fatima — you know — you understand.”
The nickname “Fatima” stuck to Mrs. Smith for a long time thereafter among her friends.
2 When Francis Jeffrey was lord advocate, the polar explorer John Ross tried to persuade him to get the government to finance an expedition to the North Pole. A man who agreed to act as intermediary called on Jeffrey at an unlucky moment, when he was just about to go out riding and did not want to be detained. Jeffrey became more and more impatient and eventually burst out, “Damn the North Pole!” The aggrieved intermediary complained to Sydney Smith about Jeffrey’s language. “Never mind,” said Smith, “never mind his damning the North Pole. I have heard him speak disrespectfully of the equator.
”
3 Sydney Smith became embroiled in an argument with a country squire who was being abusive about the Church of England. The squire concluded by saying that if he had a son who was a fool he would make him a parson. “Very probably,” retorted Smith, “but I see your father was of a different mind.”
4 The lady seated next to him at dinner rejected an offer of gravy. “Madam,” said Sydney Smith, “I have been looking for a person who disliked gravy all my life; let us swear eternal friendship.”
5 Sydney Smith was disturbed one morning at his work by a self-important little man who announced that he was compiling a history of the distinguished families of Somerset and was calling to identify the Smith arms. Sydney Smith regretted he was unable to help: “The Smiths have never had any arms, and have invariably sealed their letters with their thumbs.”
6 Smith once complained of the prosiness of some sermons, saying, “They are written as if sin were to be taken out of man like Eve out of Adam — by putting him to sleep.”
7 On receiving a basket of strawberries from one of his parishioners, Smith wrote in reply, “What is real piety? What is true attachment to the Church? How are these fine feelings best evinced? The answer is plain: by sending strawberries to a clergyman. Many thanks.”
8 Sydney Smith never attained the eminence in the church that might have been expected, mainly because the Anglican establishment disapproved of his attitude toward Roman Catholic emancipation, evinced in the Peter Plymley Letters (1807–08). Comparing his own career with that of his brother, Robert Percy, Sydney Smith observed, “He rose by gravity; I sank by levity.”
SMUTS, Jan Christiaan (1870–1950), South African philosopher and statesman.
1 Writer and journalist Wynford Vaughan-Thomas once accompanied Smuts on a “morning stroll” up Table Mountain. The year was 1947; Smuts was seventy-six and Vaughan-Thomas some thirty-eight years younger. As the writer arrived at the summit, a full ten minutes after his companion, Smuts remarked with a smile: “Young man, at my age I haven’t as much time as you for loitering.”
SMYTH, Dame Ethel (1858–1944), British composer and author.
1 (Leonard and Virginia Woolf invited Dame Ethel, then quite elderly, to dinner at their house at Rodmell in Sussex.)
“Dame Ethel bicycled the twenty miles from the village where she lived to Rodmell, dressed in rough tweeds. About two miles from her destination she decided that perhaps she was not suitably dressed for a dinner party. She thought that possibly corsets were required to smarten up her figure. Accordingly, she went into a village shop and asked for some corsets. There were none. Distressed, she looked round the shop and her eye lighted on a bird cage, which she purchased. About twenty minutes later, Virginia went into her garden to discover Dame Ethel in a state of undress in the shrubbery struggling with the bird cage, which she was wrenching into the shape of corsets and forcing under her tweeds.”
SNEAD, Sam (1912–), US golfer.
1 Passing through Rome in 1961, Snead stopped for an audience with Pope John. The golfer had not been playing well for some time, and he confessed to one of the papal officials: “I brought along my putter, on the chance that the pope might bless it.” The monsignor nodded sympathetically. “I know, Mr. Snead,” he said. “My putting is absolutely hopeless too.” Snead looked at him in amazement. “If you live here and can’t putt,” he exclaimed, “what chance is there for me?”
SOBHUZA II (1899–1982), king of Swaziland (1921–82).
1 King Sobhuza called a meeting of his ministers and advisers to discuss recent missions to other African states. Suddenly, for no apparent reason, he asked all his officials, with the exception of Dr. Samuel Hynd, the minister of health, to leave. Turning to the doctor, Sobhuza said, “I am going.” Hynd, a little surprised, asked the obvious question, “Where are you going?” By way of reply, the king simply smiled, raised his hand in a farewell gesture, and died.
SOCRATES (c. 469–399 BC), Greek philosopher.
1 Knowing the frugality of Socrates’ way of life, a friend was surprised to discover the philosopher studying with rapt attention some flashy wares on display in the marketplace. He inquired why Socrates came to the market, since he never bought anything. “I am always amazed to see how many things there are that I don’t need,” replied Socrates.
2 Socrates’ wife, Xanthippe, visited him in prison and bewailed the jury’s condemnation. “They are by their nature also condemned,” Socrates said. “But the condemnation is unjust!” persisted Xanthippe. “Would you prefer it to be just?” asked Socrates.
SOLOMON (c. 973-c. 933 BC), king of Israel.
1 Two prostitutes living alone in the same house had babies within three days of each other. One baby died, and its mother stole the other while the mother slept, substituting the corpse of her own baby. Although the other woman noticed the deception, the first woman refused to relinquish the baby. So they came before King Solomon, each claiming that the living child was hers. The king commanded his officers to bring a sword and when it was brought ordered that the baby be cut in two; one half would then be given to one woman and the other half to the other. The rightful mother, stirred with love and pity for her child, said, “O my lord, give her the living child, and in no wise slay it.” But the other woman said, “Let it be neither mine or thine, but divide it.” The king, perceiving that the compassion of the first woman had identified her as the true mother, ordered that the baby should be given to her.
SOLON (c. 639–559 BC), Greek legislator and statesman.
1 Solon’s sweeping changes naturally came in for a good deal of criticism. Solon himself acknowledged that there were imperfections in his legal code. Challenged to say whether he had given the Athenians the best laws, he replied mildly, “No, but the best that they could receive.”
2 Asked what measures could be taken to eliminate law breaking and crime within the state, Solon replied, “Wrongdoing can only be avoided if those who are not wronged feel the same indignation at it as those who are.”
SOMERSET, Charles Seymour, 6th Duke of (1662–1748), British courtier.
1 The duke’s first wife was Elizabeth, heiress to the great name and fortune of the Percys, dukes of Northumberland. When she died in 1722, he married again; his second wife was Charlotte Finch, third daughter of the Earl of Nottingham. Charlotte once made the mistake of tapping playfully on her husband’s arm with her fan to attract his attention. He turned on her and said icily, “Madam, my first wife was a Percy, and she never took such a liberty.”
SOPHOCLES (496-406 BC), Greek dramatist.
1 At the age of eighty-nine Sophocles was brought before a court of law by his son, who, suspecting that the playwright intended to cut him out of his will, wished to have him certified as suffering from senility. Sophocles said simply, “If I am Sophocles, I am not out of my mind; if I am out of mind, I am not Sophocles.” He then proceeded to read to the court passages from the Oedipus at Colonus, which he had lately written but not yet staged. The judges dismissed the case.
SOUTHEY, Robert (1774–1843), British poet and prose writer; poet laureate (1813–43).
1 Southey enjoyed making a parade of the regularity of his life and the industriousness of his habits. Intending to impress a certain Quaker lady, he told her the full routine of his day; rising at 5:00 AM, reading Spanish from 6:00 to 8:00, reading French from 8:00 to 9:00, writing poetry for two hours, writing prose ditto, and so on through to bedtime. The lady heard his recital out and then asked, “And pray, Friend, when dost thou think?”
SPELLMAN, Francis Joseph (1889–1967), US Roman Catholic cardinal.
1 As a boy of eight Frank Spellman used to help out in his father’s grocery store. One piece of advice that Spellman Sr. gave his son stuck in the future cardinal’s mind: “Always associate with people smarter than yourself, and you’ll have no difficulty finding them.”
2 In conversation with a local businessman in a busy New York post office, Cardinal Spellman happened to remark that h
e was feeling rather tired. “Tell me, Your Eminence,” asked the businessman, “with all the work you do, do you ever get so tired that you forget to say your prayers at night?”
“No,” replied Spellman with a smile. “When I’m so tired I can’t keep my eyes open, I simply say: ‘Dear God, you know I’ve been working in your vineyard all day. If you don’t mind, could we skip the details till morning?”
SPENCER, Herbert (1820–1903), British philosopher and economist.
1 Spencer was playing billiards with a subaltern who was a highly proficient player. In a game of fifty up Spencer gave a miss in balk and his opponent made a run of fifty and out in his first inning. The frustrated philosopher remarked, “A certain dexterity in games of skill argues a well-balanced mind, but such a dexterity as you have shown is evidence, I fear, of a misspent youth.”
SPENSER, Edmund (?1552–99), British poet.
1 Spenser presented some of his poetry to Queen Elizabeth, who received it graciously and instructed the lord treasurer, Lord Burghley, to pay the poet a hundred pounds. Burghley, a prudent keeper of the royal purse-strings, protested that it was far too generous a recompense. “Then give him what is reason,” said the queen. Burghley, however, conveniently forgot to make the payment, and Spenser waited patiently for some months. Eventually he decided that he would have to petition the queen himself, so he found an opportunity to present to her the following rhyme: “I was promised on a time / To have reason for my rhyme; / From that time unto this season, / I received not rhyme nor reason.” Elizabeth scolded Lord Burghley and ordered immediate payment.
Bartlett's Book of Anecdotes Page 88