admitted such to be the case,adding, "I have never visited you before, Mrs. Muldoon."
"Thin," explained the Irishwoman, "I tell ye what to do. Ye sit downin that chair there, ye read me a short psalm, ye gives me fiftycints, an' thin ye goes."
* * * * *
The following conversation was overheard during a hunting trip inScotland:
Fitz--"I say, are all your beaters out of the wood?"
Keeper--"Yes, sir."
Fitz--"Are you sure?"
Keeper--"Yes, sir."
Fitz--"Have you counted them?"
Keeper--"No, sir; but I know they're all right."
Fitz--"Then I've shot a deer!"
* * * * *
Joe--"I love you; I love you. Won't you be my wife?"
Jess--"You must see mama first."
Joe--"I have seen her several times, but I love you just the same."
* * * * *
Long after the victories of Washington over the French and English hadmade his name familiar to all Europe, Benjamin Franklin chanced todine with the English and French Ambassadors, when the followingtoasts were drunk:
"'England'--The Sun, whose bright beams enlighten and fructify theremotest corners of the earth."
The French Ambassador, filled with national pride, but too polite todispute the previous toast, offered the following:
"'France'--The Moon, whose mild, steady and cheering rays are thedelight of all nations, consoling them in darkness and making theirdreariness beautiful."
Doctor Franklin then arose, and, with his usual dignified simplicity,said:
"'George Washington'--The Joshua who commanded the Sun and Moon tostand still, and they obeyed him."
* * * * *
The following appeal of a Western editor is still going the rounds,although it is to be hoped that by this time the writer's only troubleis in having his vest made large enough:
"We see by an esteemed contemporary that a young lady in Chicago is soparticular that she kneads bread with her gloves on. What of that? Theeditor of this paper needs bread with his coat on; he needs bread withhis trousers on; in fact he needs bread with all of his clothes on.And if some of his debtors don't pay up pretty quick he'll need breadwithout anything at all on, and this Western climate is no Garden ofEden."
* * * * *
The unconscious humors of country journalism, says William AllenWhite, are often more amusing than the best efforts of the alleged"funny man."
According to Mr. White there once appeared in a Kansas paper thefollowing "personal notice":
"Our prominent townsman Theodore Monkton is seriously ill. He is beingattended twice a day by Doctor Smith, in consultation with DoctorMorgan. His recovery, therefore, is in great doubt."
* * * * *
A crowd of small boys were gathered about the entrance of a circustent in one of the small cities in New Hampshire one day, trying toget a glimpse of the interior. A man standing near watched them for afew moments, then walking up to the ticket-taker he said:
"Let all these boys in, and count them as they pass."
The man did as requested, and when the last one had gone, he turnedand said, "Twenty-eight."
"Good!" said the man, "I guessed just right," and walked off.
* * * * *
The editor of a rural newspaper determined to adopt the idea ofposting bulletins on a bulletin board for all important events thathappened in the town. Soon afterward he was told one morning by thelocal physician that Deacon Jones was seriously ill. The deacon was aman of some distinction in the community, so the editor posted aseries of bulletins as follows:
10 A. M.--Deacon Jones no better.
11 A. M.--Deacon Jones has relapse.
12.30 P. M.--Deacon Jones weaker. Pulse failing.
1 P. M.--Deacon Jones has slight rally.
2.15 P. M.--Deacon Jones's family has been summoned.
3.10 P. M.--Deacon Jones has died and gone to heaven.
Later in the afternoon a traveling salesman happened by, stopped toread the bulletins, and going to the bulletin board, made anotherreport concerning the deceased. It was:
4.10 P. M.--Great excitement in heaven. Deacon Jones has not yetarrived.
* * * * *
A group of drummers were trading yarns on the subject of hospitality,when one, a little Virginian with humorous eyes and a delightfuldrawl, took up his parable thus:
"I was down in Louisiana last month, travelin' 'cross country with afriend, when we kinder got lost in a mighty lonesome sort of road justabout dark. We rode along a right good piece after sundown, and whenwe saw a light ahead, I tell you it looked first-rate. We drove up tothe light, finding 'twas a house, and when I hollered like a lost calfthe man came out and we asked him to take us in for the night. Helooked at us mighty hard, then said:
"'Wal, I reckon I kin stand it if you kin.'
"So we went in and found 'twas only a two-room shanty, just swarmin'with children. He had six, from four to eleven years old; as theredidn't seem to be but one bed, me an' Stony wondered what in thunderwould become of us.
"They gave us supper, good hog and hominy, the best they had, and thenthe old woman put the two youngest kids to bed. They went straight tosleep. Then she took those out, laid them over in the corner, put thenext two to bed, and so on.
"After all the children were asleep on the floor the old folk went inthe other room and told us we could go to bed if we wanted to, andbein' powerful tired out, we did.
"Well, sir, the next morning when we woke up we were lying over in thecorner with the kids, and the old man and the old woman had the bed."
* * * * *
"Waiter, what have you got?" said May Irwin in one of her plays.
"Well, I've got pig's feet--"
"Never mind telling me your troubles, I want to know what you've gotto eat?"
* * * * *
As every one knows, the great Von Moltke never wasted words anddespised anything that approached garrulity in others. German armyofficers are fond of telling an anecdote illustrative of thispeculiarity:
Von Moltke was leaving Berlin on a railway journey. Just before thetrain pulled out of the station a captain of hussars entered thegeneral's compartment and, recognizing him, saluted with "GutenMorgen, Excellenz!"
Two hours later the train slowed up at a way station. The captainarose, saluted, and with another "Guten Morgen, Excellenz!" left thetrain.
Turning to one of his companions, Von Moltke said, with an expressionof the greatest disgust, "Intolerable gas-bag!"
* * * * *
A gentleman gave a large dinner party in Dublin once and invited Mr.O'Connor, one of the wittiest men in the Emerald Isle, to amuse anddivert his guests. Mr. O'Connor accepted the invitation with pleasure.But from the beginning to the end of dinner he preserved a solemn andserious face. The host thought this very strange, and just beforerising from the table remarked to him jestingly, "Why, O'Connor, oldfellow, I don't believe the biggest fool in Ireland could make youlaugh to-night." Whereupon his guest answered in a solemn tone,speaking his first word that evening, "Try."
* * * * *
Governor Guild of Massachusetts, who served in the Spanish War, tellsa story of a New York regiment, many of whose members were recruitedon the East Side. They were spoiling for a fight, and it becamenecessary to post a sentry to preserve order.
A big husky Bowery recruit, of pugilistic propensities, was put onguard outside, and given special orders to see that quiet reigned, andabove all things, if trouble came his way, not to lose possession ofhis rifle.
Soon a general row began, growing in proportions as the minutespassed. The soldier walked his post nervously, without interrupting,until the corporal of the guard appeared
on the scene withreenforcements.
"Why didn't you stop this row?" shouted the corporal.
The sentry, balancing his rifle on his shoulder, raised his arms tothe correct boxing position, and replied:
"Sure, phwat could I do wid this gun in me hands!"
* * * * *
A New Jersey man recently reached the conclusion that hiseight-year-old boy is a trifle too bright.
At dinner one evening the father had been entertaining a number offriends from Philadelphia with a funny story. This was at dessert. Theyoungster had been very quiet throughout the previous courses; buthere he arose to the occasion in fine style.
When the laughter induced by his father's humor had ceased, the boy,with a fine affectation of delight, said:
"Now, dad, _do_ tell the other one!"
* * * * *
The June bride frowned.
"These tomatoes," she said, "are just twice as dear as those acrossthe street. Why is it?"
"Ah, ma'am, these"--and the grocer smiled--"these are hand-picked."
She blushed.
"Of course," she said, hastily; "I might have known. Give me a bushel,please."
* * * * *
Mistress--"Jane, I saw the milkman kiss you this morning. In thefuture I will take the milk in."
Jane--"'Twouldn't be no use, mum. He's promised never to kiss anybodybut me."
* * * * *
Not long ago a man was charged with shooting a number of pigeons, theproperty of a farmer. In giving his evidence the farmer wasexceedingly careful, even nervous, and the solicitor for the defenseendeavored to frighten him. "Now," he remarked, "are you prepared toswear that this man shot your pigeons?" "I didn't say he did shoot'em," was the reply. "I said I suspected him o' doing it." "Ah! nowwe're coming to it. What made you suspect that man?" "Well, firstly, Icaught him on my land wi' a gun. Secondly, I heerd a gun go off an'saw some pigeons fall. Thirdly, I found four o' my pigeons in hispocket--an' I don't think them birds flew there and committedsuicide."
* * * * *
"Mama, can't I go up to the next block and play with the Jones boys?"asked Henry, a boy of six, who was being brought up very carefully.
"No, indeed!" answered his mother. "They are very bad boys."
"Then can't I go over to see Mrs. Smith's little girls?"
"No, Henry; I'm afraid to let you go."
The little fellow left the room; later, he stuck his head inside with,"Say, mama, I'm going over next door an' play with the dog."
* * * * *
The Right Reverend Chauncey B. Brewster, D.D., Bishop of Connecticut,tells a story which he says is Mrs. Brewster's favorite. It seems theBishop had caught a small boy stealing apples in his orchard; so,after reproving him severely for some time, he said, "And now, my boy,do you know why I tell you all this? There is One before whom even Iam a crawling worm; do you know who?"
"Sure," replied the boy, promptly; "the missus."
* * * * *
A Bishop was once traveling third-class on a branch line inDevonshire, England. At one of the stations a countryman got in. Aftergazing at the Bishop's attire in a puzzled manner for some time, heventured the remark, "Be you a curate, sir?"
"Well," said the Bishop meditatively, "I was once."
"A-ah," said the rustic, a comprehensive smile overspreading his face,"the drink, I suppose?"
* * * * *
A celebrated parson preached a rather long sermon from the text "Thouart weighed and found wanting." After the congregation had listenedabout an hour, some began to get weary and went out; others soonfollowed, greatly to the annoyance of the minister. Another person wasabout to retire when the minister stopped his sermon and said:"That's right, gentlemen; as fast as you are weighed, pass out."
* * * * *
"Here, hold my horse a minute, will you?"
"Sir! I'm a Member of Congress!"
"Never mind. You look honest. I'll take a chance."
* * * * *
A red-faced man was holding the attention of a little group with somewonderful recitals.
"The most exciting chase I ever had," he said, "happened a few yearsago in Russia. One night, when sleighing about ten miles from mydestination I discovered, to my intense horror, that I was beingfollowed by a pack of wolves. I fired blindly into the pack, killingone of the brutes, and to my delight saw the others stop to devour it.After doing this, however, they still came on. I kept on repeating thedose, with the same result, and each occasion gave me an opportunityto whip up my horse. Finally there was only one wolf left, yet on itcame, with its fierce eyes glowing in anticipation of a good, hotsupper."
Here the man who had been sitting in the corner burst forth into a fitof laughter.
"Why, man," said he, "by your way of reckoning that last wolf musthave had the rest of the pack inside him!"
"Ah!" said the red-faced man without a tremor, "now I remember, it didwobble a bit."
* * * * *
Frederic Remington, the illustrator, fresh from a Western trip onwhich he had been making studies of Indians and cowpunchers and thingsoutdoors, met an art editor who insisted upon dragging him up to anexhibition of very impressionistic pictures.
"You don't seem enthusiastic," remarked the editor as they were comingout. "Didn't you like them?"
Remington, remembering what he had been told as a boy, counted tenbefore replying. Then:
"Like 'em? Say! I've got two maiden aunts in New Rochelle that can_knit_ better pictures than those!"
* * * * *
The wife of General S. was doing some shopping one morning recentlywhen, coming out of a store, she noticed a small country wagon draw upto the curb. In it sat a woman whom the lady recognized as a formerservant in the family who had lost her husband some two or three yearsbefore. The woman was clad in deep mourning which had an air ofnewness about it. Mrs. S. hastened to greet the woman. "How is this,Bridget. I hope you haven't met with any recent bereavement?"
"No, mem, not so racent--it's for poor Mike. I allus said _when_ Icould I would--and so I _am_!"
* * * * *
Those who know a certain Southern Senator will picture his ampleproportions when they read this story:
While journeying through the South, he was very much annoyed one dayat the delay in getting food served in a certain _cafe_. He had givenhis order, and waited impatiently an unreasonable length of time,when the waiter appeared and was evidently looking for some one whomust have gone out without waiting for his meal.
When asked by the Senator whom he was looking for he replied.
"A little boy who gave his order."
The Senator replied: "I am that boy."
* * * * *
Jack's mother had been walking up and down the piazza with himrepeating Mother Goose. She began the "Solomon Grundy" one, goingthrough it rapidly without taking breath, ending laughingly:
"Worse on Friday, Died on Saturday, Buried on Sunday, And that was the end Of Solomon Grundy."
Jack took his thumb out of his mouth, looked reprovingly at his motherand said:
"Don't laugh, mama: that's _awful_."
* * * * *
"I'm a terror, I be," announced the new arrival in Frozen Dog to oneof the men behind the bar.
"Be ye?"
"Take three men to handle me, once I get started," he went on.
"Oh, well," he remarked, as he arose painfully and dusted off hisclothes, "of course, if ye're short-handed, I suppose two kin do it ona pinch."
* * * * *
David B. Hill, former Governor of and Senator from New York, has asecluded hatter somewhere in the S
tate who makes his high hats afterelaborate plans drawn by Mr. Hill many years ago, and not changedsince.
One night Governor Odell, of New York, was giving a reception inAlbany, and President Roosevelt, then elected Vice-President, met Mr.Hill on the steps of the New York Executive mansion.
Roosevelt wore a black rough-rider hat and Hill had one of hispeculiar sky-pieces.
"Senator," said Roosevelt, "you should wear a hat like this one that Ihave on. They are much easier on the head, preserve the hair and arealtogether better than silk ones."
Mr. Hill looked at the coming Vice-President. "My dear sir," he said,"I haven't worn a hat like that since I went out of the showbusiness."
* * * * *
A negress was brought before a magistrate charged with cruellytreating her child. Evidence was clear that she had severely beatenthe youngster, who was in court to exhibit his marks and bruises.Before imposing sentence the magistrate asked the woman if she hadanything to say. "Kin Ah ask yo' honah a question?" His honor nodded."Well, yo' honah, I'd like to ask yo' whether yo' was ever the fatherof a puffectly wuthless culled chile?"
* * * * *
A member of an eminent St. Louis law firm went to Chicago to consult aclient. When he arrived he found that he had unaccountably forgottenthe