“Who’s the printer?”
It was Commencement Day at a well-known woman’s college, and the father of one of the young women came to attend the graduation exercises. He was presented to the president, who said, “I congratulate you, sir, upon your extremely large and affectionate family.”
“Large and affectionate?” he stammered and looking very much surprised.
“Yes, indeed,” said the president. “No less than twelve of your daughter’s brothers have called frequently during the winter to take her driving and sleighing, while your eldest son escorted her to the theater at least twice a week. Unusually nice brothers they are.”
The world’s great men have not commonly been great scholars, nor its great scholars great men.–_O.W. Holmes_.
_See also_ Harvard university; Scholarship.
COLLEGES AND UNIVERSITIES
The college is a coy maid–
She has a habit quaint
Of making eyes at millionaires
And winking at the taint.
–_Judge_.
“What is a ‘faculty’?”
“A ‘faculty’ is a body of men surrounded by red tape.”–_Cornell Widow_.
Yale University is to have a ton of fossils. Whether for the faculty or for the museums is not announced.–_The Atlanta Journal_.
FIRST TRUSTEE–“But this ancient institution of learning will fail unless something is done.”
SECOND TRUSTEE–“True; but what can we do? We have already raised the tuition until it is almost 1 per cent of the fraternity fees.”–_Puck_.
The president of the university had dark circles under his eyes. His cheek was pallid; his lips were trembling; he wore a hunted expression.
“You look ill,” said his wife. “What is wrong, dear?”
“Nothing much,” he replied. “But–I–I had a fearful dream last night, and I feel this morning as if I–as if I–” It was evident that his nervous system was shattered.
“What was the dream?” asked his wife.
“I–I–dreamed the trustees required that–that I should–that I should pass the freshman examination for–admission!” sighed the president.
COMMON SENSE
A mysterious building had been erected on the outskirts of a small town. It was shrouded in mystery. All that was known about it was that it was a chemical laboratory. An old farmer, driving past the place after work had been started, and seeing a man in the doorway, called to him:
“What be ye doin’ in this place?”
“We are searching for a universal solvent–something that will dissolve all things,” said the chemist.
“What good will thet be?”
“Imagine, sir! It will dissolve all things. If we want a solution of iron, glass, gold–anything, all that we have to do is to drop it in this solution.”
“Fine,” said the farmer, “fine! What be ye goin’ to keep it in?”
COMMUTERS
BRIGGS–“Is it true that you have broken off your engagement to that girl who lives in the suburbs?”
GRIGGS–“Yes; they raised the commutation rates on me and I have transferred to a town girl.”
“I see you carrying home a new kind of breakfast food,” remarked the first commuter.
“Yes,” said the second commuter, “I was missing too many trains. The old brand required three seconds to prepare. You can fix this new brand in a second and a half.”
After the sermon on Sunday morning the rector welcomed and shook hands with a young German.
“And are you a regular communicant?” said the rector. “Yes,” said the German: “I take the 7:45 every morning.”–_M.L. Hayward_.
A suburban train was slowly working its way through one of the blizzards of 1894. Finally it came to a dead stop and all efforts to start it again were futile.
In the wee, small hours of the morning a weary commuter, numb from the cold and the cramped position in which he had tried to sleep, crawled out of the train and floundered through the heavy snow-drifts to the nearest telegraph station. This is the message he handed to the operator:
“Will not be at office to-day. Not home yesterday yet.”
A nervous commuter on his dark, lonely way home from the railroad station heard footsteps behind him. He had an uncomfortable feeling that he was being followed. He increased his speed. The footsteps quickened accordingly. The commuter darted down a lane. The footsteps still pursued him. In desperation he vaulted over a fence and, rushing into a churchyard, threw himself panting on one of the graves.
“If he follows me here,” he thought fearfully, “there can be no doubt as to his intentions.”
The man behind was following. He could hear him scrambling over the fence. Visions of highwaymen, maniacs, garroters and the like flashed through his brain. Quivering with fear, the nervous one arose and faced his pursuer.
“What do you want?” he demanded. “Wh-why are you following me?”
“Say,” asked the stranger, mopping his brow, “do you always go home like this? I’m going up to Mr. Brown’s and the man at the station told me to follow you, as you lived next door. Excuse my asking you, but is there much more to do before we get there?”
COMPARISONS
A milliner endeavored to sell to a colored woman one of the last season’s hats at a very moderate price. It was a big white picture-hat.
“Law, no, honey!” exclaimed the woman. “I could nevah wear that. I’d look jes’ like a blueberry in a pan of milk.”
A well-known author tells of an English spinster who said, as she watched a great actress writhing about the floor as Cleopatra:
“How different from the home life of our late dear queen!”
“Darling,” whispered the ardent suitor, “I lay my fortune at your feet.”
“Your fortune?” she replied in surprise. “I didn’t know you had one.”
“Well, it isn’t much of a fortune, but it will look large besides those tiny feet.”
“Girls make me tired,” said the fresh young man. “They are always going to palmists to have their hands read.”
“Indeed!” said she sweetly; “is that any worse than men going into saloons to get their noses red?”
A friend once wrote Mark Twain a letter saying that he was in very bad health, and concluding: “Is there anything worse than having toothache and earache at the same time?”
The humorist wrote back: “Yes, rheumatism and Saint Vitus’s dance.”
The Rev. Dr. William Emerson, of Boston, son of Ralph Waldo Emerson, recently made a trip through the South, and one Sunday attended a meeting in a colored church. The preacher was a white man, however, a white man whose first name was George, and evidently a prime favorite with the colored brethren. When the service was over Dr. Emerson walked home behind two members of the congregation, and overheard this conversation: “Massa George am a mos’ pow’ful preacher.” “He am dat.” “He’s mos’s pow’ful as Abraham Lincoln.” “Huh! He’s mo’ pow’ful dan Lincoln.” “He’s mos’ ‘s pow’ful as George Washin’ton.” “Huh! He’s mo’ pow’ful dan Washin’ton.” “Massa George ain’t quite as pow’ful as God.” “N-n-o, not quite. But he’s a young man yet.”
Is it possible your pragmatical worship should not know that the comparisons made between wit and wit, courage and courage, beauty and beauty, birth and birth, are always odious and ill taken?–_Cervantes_.
COMPENSATION
“Speakin’ of de law of compensation,” said Uncle Eben, “an automobile goes faster dan a mule, but at de same time it hits harder and balks longer.”
COMPETITION
A new baby arrived at a house. A little girl–now fifteen–had been the pet of the family. Every one made much of her, but when there was a new baby she felt rather neglected.
“How are you, Mary?” a visitor asked of her one afternoon.
“Oh, I’m all right,” she said, “except that I think there is too much competition in this world.”
A farmer during a long-continued drought invented a machine for watering his fields. The very first day while he was trying it there suddenly came a downpour of rain. He put away his machine.
“It’s no use,” he said; “you can do nothing nowadays without competition.”
COMPLIMENTS
Supper was in progress, and the father was telling about a row which took place in front of his store that morning: “The first thing I saw was one man deal the other a sounding blow, and then a crowd gathered. The man who was struck ran and grabbed a large shovel he had been using on the street, and rushed back, his eyes blazing fiercely. I thought he’d surely knock the other man’s brains out, and I stepped right in between them.”
The young son of the family had become so hugely interested in the narrative as it proceeded that he had stopped eating his pudding. So proud was he of his father’s valor, his eyes fairly shone, and he cried:
“He couldn’t knock any brains out of you, could he, Father?”
Father looked at him long and earnestly, but the lad’s countenance was frank and open.
Father gasped slightly, and resumed his supper.
_See also_ Tact.
COMPOSERS
Recipe for the musical comedy composer:
Librettos of all of the operas,
Some shears and a bottle of paste, Curry the hits of last season,
Add tumpty-tee tra la to taste.
–_Life_.
COMPROMISES
Boss–“There’s $10 gone from my cash drawer, Johnny; you and I were the only people who had keys to that drawer.”
Office Boy–“Well, s’pose we each pay $5 and say no more about it.”
CONFESSIONS
“You say Garston made a complete confession? What did he get–five years?”
“No, fifty dollars. He confessed to the magazines.”–_Puck_.
Little Ethel had been brought up with a firm hand and was always taught to report misdeeds promptly. One afternoon she came sobbing penitently to her mother.
“Mother, I–I broke a brick in the fireplace.”
“Well, it might be worse. But how on earth did you do it, Ethel?”
“I pounded it with your watch.”
“Confession is good for the soul.”
“Yes, but it’s bad for the reputation.”
CONGRESS
Congress is a national inquisitorial body for the purpose of acquiring valuable information and then doing nothing about it.–_Life_.
“Judging from the stuff printed in the newspapers,” says a congressman, “we are a pretty bad lot. Almost in the class a certain miss whom I know unconsciously puts us in. It was at a recent examination at her school that the question was put, ‘Who makes the laws of our government?’
“‘Congress,’ was the united reply.
“‘How is Congress divided?’ was the next query.
“My young friend raised her hand.
“‘Well,’ said the teacher, ‘what do you say the answer is?’
“Instantly, with an air of confidence as well as triumph, the Miss replied, ‘Civilized, half civilized, and savage.'”
CONGRESSMEN
It was at a banquet in Washington given to a large body of congressmen, mostly from the rural districts. The tables were elegant, and it was a scene of fairy splendor; but on one table there were no decorations but palm leaves.
“Here,” said a congressman to the head waiter, “why don’t you put them things on our table too?” pointing to the plants.
The head waiter didn’t know he was a congressman.
“We cain’t do it, boss,” he whispered confidentially; “dey’s mostly congressmen at ‘dis table, an’ if we put pa’ms on de table dey take um for celery an’ eat um all up sho. ‘Deed dey would, boss. We knows ’em.”
Representative X, from North Carolina, was one night awakened by his wife, who whispered, “John, John, get up! There are robbers in the house.”
“Robbers?” he said. “There may be robbers in the Senate, Mary; but not in the House! It’s preposterous!”–_John N. Cole, Jr_.
Champ Clark loves to tell of how in the heat of a debate Congressman Johnson of Indiana called an Illinois representative a jackass. The expression was unparliamentary, and in retraction Johnson said:
“While I withdraw the unfortunate word, Mr. Speaker, I must insist that the gentleman from Illinois is out of order.”
“How am I out of order?” yelled the man from Illinois.
“Probably a veterinary surgeon could tell you,” answered Johnson, and that was parliamentary enough to stay on the record.
A Georgia Congressman had put up at an American-plan hotel in New York. When, upon sitting down at dinner the first evening of his stay, the waiter obsequiously handed him a bill of fare, the Congressman tossed it aside, slipped the waiter a dollar bill, and said, “Bring me a good dinner.”
The dinner proving satisfactory, the Southern member pursued this plan during his entire stay in New York. As the last tip was given, he mentioned that he was about to return to Washington.
Whereupon, the waiter, with an expression of great earnestness, said:
“Well, sir, when you or any of your friends that can’t read come to New York, just ask for Dick.”
CONSCIENCE
The moral of this story may be that it is better to heed the warnings of the “still small voice” before it is driven to the use of the telephone.
A New York lawyer, gazing idly out of his window, saw a sight in an office across the street that made him rub his eyes and look again. Yes, there was no doubt about it. The pretty stenographer was sitting upon the gentleman’s lap. The lawyer noticed the name that was lettered on the window and then searched in the telephone book. Still keeping his eye upon the scene across the street, he called the gentleman up. In a few moments he saw him start violently and take down the receiver.
“Yes,” said the lawyer through the telephone, “I should think you would start.”
The victim whisked his arm from its former position and began to stammer something.
“Yes,” continued the lawyer severely, “I think you’d better take that arm away. And while you’re about it, as long as there seems to be plenty of chairs in the room–”
The victim brushed the lady from his lap, rather roughly, it is to be feared. “Who–who the devil is this, anyhow?” he managed to splutter.
“I,” answered the lawyer in deep, impressive tones, “am your conscience!”
A quiet conscience makes one so serene! Christians have burnt each other, quite persuaded That all the Apostles would have done as they did.
–_Byron_.
Oh, Conscience! Conscience! man’s most faithful friend, Him canst thou comfort, ease, relieve, defend; But if he will thy friendly checks forego, Thou art, oh! woe for me his deadliest foe!
–_Crabbe_.
CONSEQUENCES
A teacher asked her class in spelling to state the difference between the words “results” and “consequences.”
A bright girl replied, “Results are what you expect, and consequences are what you get.”
Consequences are unpitying. Our deeds carry their terrible consequences, quite apart from any fluctuations that went before–consequences that are hardly ever confined to ourselves.–_George Eliot_.
CONSIDERATION
The goose had been carved at the Christmas dinner and everybody had tasted it. It was excellent. The negro minister, who was the guest of honor, could not restrain his enthusiasm.
“Dat’s as fine a goose as I evah see, Bruddah Williams,” he said to his host. “Whar did you git such a fine goose?”
“Well, now, Pahson,” replied the carver of the goose, exhibiting great dignity and reticence, “when you preaches a speshul good sermon I never axes you whar you got it. I hopes you will show me de same considerashion.”
A clergyman, who was summoned in haste by a woman who had been taken suddenly ill, answered the call though somewhat puzzled by it, for he knew that she was not of his parish, and was, moreover, known to be a devoted worker in another church. While he was waiting to be shown to the sick-room he fell to talking to the little girl of the house.
“It is very gratifying to know that your mother thought of me in her illness,” said he, “Is your minister out of town?”
“Oh, no,” answered the child, in a matter-of-fact tone. “He’s home; only we thought it might be something contagious, and we didn’t want to take any risks.”
CONSTANCY
A soldier belonging to a brigade in command of a General who believed in a celibate army asked permission to marry, as he had two good-conduct badges and money in the savings-bank.
“Well, go-away,” said the General, “and if you come back to me a year from today in the same frame of mind you shall marry. I’ll keep the vacancy.”
On the anniversary the soldier repeated his request.
“But do you really, after a year, want to marry?” inquired the General in a surprised tone.
“Yes, sir; very much.”
“Sergeant-Major, take his name down. Yes, you may marry. I never believed there was so much constancy in man or woman. Right face; quick march!”
As the man left the room, turning his head, he said, “Thank you, sir; but it isn’t the same woman.”
CONTRIBUTION BOX
The parson looks it o’er and frets.
It puts him out of sorts
To see how many times he gets
A penny for his thoughts.
–_J.J. O’Connell_.
There were introductions all around. The big man stared in a puzzled way at the club guest. “You look like a man I’ve seen somewhere, Mr. Blinker,” he said. “Your face seems familiar. I fancy you have a double. And a funny thing about it is that I remember I formed a strong prejudice against the man who looks like you–although, I’m quite sure, we never met.”
The little guest softly laughed. “I’m the man,” he answered, “and I know why you formed the prejudice. I passed the contribution plate for two years in the church you attended.”
The collections had fallen off badly in the colored church and the pastor made a short address before the box was passed.
“I don’ want any man to gib mo’ dan his share, bredern,” he said gently, “but we mus’ all gib ercordin’ to what we rightly hab. I say ‘rightly hab,” bredern, because we don’t want no tainted money in dis box. ‘Squire Jones tol’ me dat he done miss some chickens dis week. Now if any of our bredern hab fallen by de wayside in connection wif dose chickens let him stay his hand from de box.
“Now, Deacon Smiff, please pass de box while I watch de signs an’ see if dere’s any one in dis congregation dat needs me ter wrastle in prayer fer him.”
A newly appointed Scotch minister on his first Sunday of office had reason to complain of the poorness of the collection. “Mon,” replied one of the elders, “they are close–vera close.”
“But,” confidentially, “the auld meenister he put three or four saxpenses into the plate hissel’, just to gie them a start. Of course he took the saxpenses awa’ with him afterward.” The new minister tried the same plan, but the next Sunday he again had to report a dismal failure. The total collection was not only small, but he was grieved to find that his own sixpences were missing. “Ye may be a better preacher than the auld meenister,” exclaimed the elder, “but if ye had half the knowledge o’ the world, an’ o’ yer ain flock in particular, ye’d ha’ done what he did an’ glued the saxpenses to the plate.”
POLICE COMMISSIONER–“If you were ordered to disperse a mob, what would you do?”
APPLICANT–“Pass around the hat, sir.”
POLICE COMMISSIONER–“That’ll do; you’re engaged.”
“I advertized that the poor were made welcome in this church,” said the vicar to his congregation, “and as the offertory amounts to ninety-five cents, I see that they have come.”
_See also_ Salvation.
CONUNDRUMS
“Mose, what is the difference between a bucket of milk in a rain storm and a conversation between two confidence men?”
“Say, boss, dat nut am too hard to crack; I’se gwine to give it up.”
“Well, Mose, one is a thinning scheme and the other is a skinning theme.”
CONVERSATION
“My dog understands every word I say.”
“Um.”
“Do you doubt it?”
“No, I do not doubt the brute’s intelligence. The scant attention he bestows upon your conversation would indicate that he understands it perfectly.”
THE TALL AND AGGRESSIVE ONE–“Excuse me, but I’m in a hurry! You’ve had that phone twenty minutes and not said a word!”
THE SHORT AND MEEK ONE–“Sir, I’m talking to my wife.”–_Puck_.
HUS (during a quarrel)–“You talk like an idiot.”
WIFE–“I’ve got to talk so you can understand me.”
Irving Bacheller, it appears, was on a tramping tour through New England. He discovered a chin-bearded patriarch on a roadside rock.
“Fine corn,” said Mr. Bacheller, tentatively, using a hillside filled with straggling stalks as a means of breaking the conversational ice.
“Best in Massachusetts,” said the sitter.
“How do you plow that field?” asked Mr. Bacheller. “It is so very steep.”
“Don’t plow it,” said the sitter. “When the spring thaws come, the rocks rolling down hill tear it up so that we can plant corn.”
“And how do you plant it?” asked Mr. Bacheller. The sitter said that he didn’t plant it, really. He stood in his back door and shot the seed in with a shotgun.
“Is that the truth?” asked Bacheller.
“H–ll no,” said the sitter, disgusted. “That’s conversation.”
Conversation is the laboratory and workshop of the student.–_Emerson_.
A single conversation across the table with a wise man is better than ten years’ study of books.–_Longfellow_.
COOKERY
“John, John,” whispered an alarmed wife, poking her sleeping husband in the ribs. “Wake up, John; there are burglars in the pantry and they’re eating all my pies.”
“Well, what do we care,” mumbled John, rolling over, “so long as they don’t die in the house?”
“This is certainly a modern cook-book in every way.”
“How so?”
“It says: ‘After mixing your bread, you can watch two reels at the movies before putting it in the oven.'”–_Puck_.
There was recently presented to a newly-married young woman in Baltimore such a unique domestic proposition that she felt called upon to seek expert advice from another woman, whom she knew to possess considerable experience in the cooking line.
“Mrs. Jones,” said the first mentioned young woman, as she breathlessly entered the apartment of the latter, “I’m sorry to trouble you, but I must have your advice.”
“What is the trouble, my dear?”
“Why, I’ve just had a ‘phone message from Harry, saying that he is going out this afternoon to shoot clay pigeons. Now, he’s bound to bring a lot home, and I haven’t the remotest idea how to cook them. Won’t you please tell me?”–_Taylor Edwards_.
Heaven sends us good meat, but the devil sends us cooks.–_David Garrick_.
COOKS
_See_ Servants.
CORNETS
Spurgeon was once asked if the man who learned to play a cornet on Sunday would go to heaven.
The great preacher’s reply was characteristic. Said he: “I don’t see why he should not, but”–after a pause–“I doubt whether the man next door will.”
CORNS
Great aches from little toe-corns grow.
CORPULENCE
The wife of a prominent Judge was making arrangements with the colored laundress of the village to take charge of their washing for the summer. Now, the Judge was pompous and extremely fat. He tipped the scales at some three hundred pounds.
“Missus,” said the woman, “I’ll do your washing, but I’se gwine ter charge you double for your husband’s shirts.”
“Why, what is your reason for that Nancy,” questioned the mistress.
“Well,” said the laundress, “I don’t mind washing fur an ordinary man, but I draws de line on circus tents, I sho’ do.”
An employee of a rolling mill was on his vacation when he fell in love with a handsome German girl. Upon his return to the works, he went to Mr. Carnegie and announced that as he wanted to get married he would like a little further time off. Mr. Carnegie appeared much interested. “Tell me about her,” he said. “Is she short or is she tall, slender, willowy?”
“Well, Mr. Carnegie,” was the answer, “all I can say is that if I’d had the rolling of her, I should have given her two or three more passes.”
A very stout old lady, bustling through the park on a sweltering hot day, became aware that she was being closely followed by a rough-looking tramp.
“What do you mean by following me in this manner?” she indignantly demanded. The tramp slunk back a little. But when the stout lady resumed her walk he again took up his position directly behind her.
“See here,” she exclaimed, wheeling angrily, “if you don’t go away at once I shall call a policeman!”
The unfortunate man looked up at her appealingly.
“For Heaven’s sake, kind lady, have mercy an’ don’t call a policeman; ye’re the only shady spot in the whole park.”
A jolly steamboat captain with more girth than height was asked if he had ever had any very narrow escapes.
“Yes,” he replied, his eyes twinkling; “once I fell off my boat at the mouth of Bear Creek, and, although I’m an expert swimmer, I guess I’d be there now if it hadn’t been for my crew. You see the water was just deep enough so’s to be over my head when I tried to wade out, and just shallow enough”–he gave his body an explanatory pat–“so that whenever I tried to swim out I dragged bottom.”
A very large lady entered a street car and a young man near the door rose and said: “I will be one of three to give the lady a seat.”
To our Fat Friends: May their shadows never grow less.
_See also_ Dancing.
COSMOPOLITANISM
Secretary of State Lazansky refused to incorporate the Hell Cafe of New York.
“New York’s cafes are singular enough,” said Mr. Lazansky, “without the addition of such a queerly named institution as the Hell.”
He smiled and added:
“Is there anything quite so queerly cosmopolitan as a New York cafe? In the last one I visited, I saw a Portuguese, a German and an Italian, dressed in English clothes and seated at a table of Spanish walnut, lunching on Russian caviar, French rolls, Scotch salmon, Welsh rabbit, Swiss cheese, Dutch cake and Malaga raisins. They drank China tea and Irish whisky.”
COST OF LIVING
“Did you punish our son for throwing a lump of coal at Willie Smiggs?” asked the careful mother.
“I did,” replied the busy father. “I don’t care so much for the Smiggs boy, but I can’t have anybody in this family throwing coal around like that.”
“Live within your income,” was a maxim uttered by Mr. Carnegie on his seventy-sixth birthday. This is easy; the difficulty is to live without it.–_Satire_.
“You say your jewels were stolen while the family was at dinner?”
“No, no! This is an important robbery. Our dinner was stolen while we were putting on our jewels.”
A grouchy butcher, who had watched the price of porterhouse steak climb the ladder of fame, was deep in the throes of an unusually bad grouch when a would-be customer, eight years old, approached him and handed him a penny.
“Please, mister, I want a cent’s worth of sausage.”
Turning on the youngster with a growl, he let forth this burst of good salesmanship:
“Go smell o’ the hook!”
TOM–“My pa is very religious. He always bows his head and says something before meals.”
DICK–“Mine always says something when he sits down to eat, but he don’t bow his head.”
TOM–“What does he say?”
DICK–“Go easy on the butter, kids, it’s forty cents a pound.”
COUNTRY LIFE
BILTER (at servants’ agency)–“Have you got a cook who will go to the country?”
MANAGER (calling out to girls in next room)–“Is there any one here who would like to spend a day in the country?”–_Life_.
VISITOR–“You have a fine road leading from the station.”
SUBUBS–“That’s the path worn by servant-girls.”
_See also_ Commuters; Servants.
COURAGE
AUNT ETHEL–“Well, Beatrice, were you very brave at the dentist’s?”
BEATRICE–“Yes, auntie, I was.”
AUNT ETHEL–“Then, there’s the half crown I promised you. And now tell me what he did to you.”
BEATRICE–“He pulled out two of Willie’s teeth!”–_Punch_.
He was the small son of a bishop, and his mother was teaching him the meaning of courage.
“Supposing,” she said, “there were twelve boys in one bedroom, and eleven got into bed at once, while the other knelt down to say his prayers, that boy would show true courage.”
“Oh!” said the young hopeful. “I know something that would be more courageous than that! Supposing there were twelve bishops in one bedroom, and one got into bed without saying his prayers!”
Courage, the highest gift, that scorns to bend To mean devices for a sordid end.
Courage–an independent spark from Heaven’s bright throne, By which the soul stands raised, triumphant, high, alone. Great in itself, not praises of the crowd, Above all vice, it stoops not to be proud. Courage, the mighty attribute of powers above, By which those great in war, are great in love. The spring of all brave acts is seated here, As falsehoods draw their sordid birth from fear.
–_Farquhar_.
COURTESY
The mayor of a French town had, in accordance with the regulations, to make out a passport for a rich and highly respectable lady of his acquaintance, who, in spite of a slight disfigurement, was very vain of her personal appearance. His native politeness prompted him to gloss over the defect, and, after a moment’s reflection, he wrote among the items of personal description: “Eyes dark, beautiful, tender, expressive, but one of them missing.”
Mrs. Taft, at a diplomatic dinner, had for a neighbor a distinguished French traveler who boasted a little unduly of his nation’s politeness.
“We French,” the traveler declared, “are the politest people in the world. Every one acknowledges it. You Americans are a remarkable nation, but the French excel you in politeness. You admit it yourself, don’t you?”
Mrs. Taft smiled delicately.
“Yes,” she said. “That is our politeness.”
Justice Moody was once riding on the platform of a Boston street car standing next to the gate that protected passengers from cars coming on the other track. A Boston lady came to the door of the car and, as it stopped, started toward the gate, which was hidden from her by the man standing before it.
“Other side, lady,” said the conductor.
He was ignored as only a born-and-bred Bostonian can ignore a man. The lady took another step toward the gate.
“You must get off the other side,” said the conductor.
“I wish to get off on this side,” came the answer, in tones that congealed that official. Before he could explain or expostulate Mr. Moody came to his assistance.
“Stand to one side, gentlemen,” he remarked quietly. “The lady wishes to climb over the gate.”
COURTS
One day when old Thaddeus Stevens was practicing in the courts he didn’t like the ruling of the presiding Judge. A second time when the Judge ruled against “old Thad,” the old man got up with scarlet face and quivering lips and commenced tying up his papers as if to quit the courtroom.
“Do I understand, Mr. Stevens,” asked the Judge, eying “old Thad” indignantly, “that you wish to show your contempt for this court?”
“No, sir; no, sir,” replied “old Thad.” “I don’t want to show my contempt, sir; I’m trying to conceal it.”
“It’s all right to fine me, Judge,” laughed Barrowdale, after the proceedings were over, “but just the same you were ahead of me in your car, and if I was guilty you were too.”
“Ya’as, I know,” said the judge with a chuckle, “I found myself guilty and hev jest paid my fine into the treasury same ez you.”
“Bully for you!” said Barrowdale. “By the way, do you put these fines back into the roads?”
“No,” said the judge. “They go to the trial jestice in loo o’ sal’ry.”
A stranger came into an Augusta bank the other day and presented a check for which he wanted the equivalent in cash.
“Have to be identified,” said the clerk.
The stranger took a bunch of letters from his pocket all addressed to the same name as that on the check.
The clerk shook his head.
The man thought a minute and pulled out his watch, which bore the name on its inside cover.
Clerk hardly glanced at it.
The man dug into his pockets and found one of those “If-I-should-die-tonight-please-notify-my-wife” cards, and called the clerk’s attention to the description, which fitted to a T.
But the clerk was still obdurate.
“Those things don’t prove anything,” he said. “We’ve got to have the word of a man that we know.”
“But, man, I’ve given you an identification that would convict me of murder in any court in the land.”
“That’s probably very true,” responded the clerk, patiently, “but in matters connected with the bank we have to be more careful.”
_See also_ Jury; Witnesses.
COURTSHIP
“Do you think a woman believes you when you tell her she is the first girl you ever loved?”
“Yes, if you’re the first liar she has ever met.”
Augustus Fitzgibbons Moran
Fell in love with Maria McCann.
With a yell and a whoop
He cleared the front stoop
Just ahead of her papa’s brogan.
SPOONLEIGH–“Does your sister always look under the bed?”
HER LITTLE BROTHER–“Yes, and when you come to see her she always looks under the sofa.”–_J.J. O’Connell_.
There was a young man from the West, Who loved a young lady with zest;
So hard did he press her
To make her say, “Yes, sir,”
That he broke three cigars in his vest.
“I hope your father does not object to my staying so late,” said Mr. Stayput as the clock struck twelve.
“Oh, dear, no,” replied Miss Dabbs, with difficulty suppressing a yawn, “He says you save him the expense of a night-watchman.”
There was an old monk of Siberia,
Whose existence grew drearier and drearier; He burst from his cell
With a hell of a yell,
And eloped with the Mother Superior.
It was scarcely half-past nine when the rather fierce-looking father of the girl entered the parlor where the timid lover was courting her. The father had his watch in his hand.
“Young man,” he said brusquely, “do you know what time it is?”
“Y-y-yes sir,” stuttered the frightened lover, as he scrambled out into the hall; “I–I was just going to leave!”
After the beau had made a rapid exit, the father turned to the girl and said in astonishment:
“What was the matter with that fellow? My watch has run down, and I simply wanted to know the time.”
“What were you and Mr. Smith talking about in the parlor?” asked her mother. “Oh, we were discussing our kith and kin,” replied the young lady.
The mother look dubiously at her daughter, whereupon her little brother, wishing to help his sister, said:
“Yeth they wath, Mother. I heard ’em. Mr. Thmith asked her for a kith and she thaid, ‘You kin.'”
During a discussion of the fitness of things in general some one asked: “If a young man takes his best girl to the grand opera, spends $8 on a supper after the performance, and then takes her home in a taxicab, should he kiss her goodnight?”
An old bachelor who was present growled: “I don’t think she ought to expect it. Seems to me he has done enough for her.”
A young woman who was about to wed decided at the last moment to test her sweetheart. So, selecting the prettiest girl she knew, she said to her, though she knew it was a great risk.
“I’ll arrange for Jack to take you out tonight–a walk on the beach in the moonlight, a lobster supper and all that sort of thing–and I want you, in order to put his fidelity to the proof, to ask him for a kiss.”
The other girl laughed, blushed and assented. The dangerous plot was carried out. Then the next day the girl in love visited the pretty one and said anxiously:
“Well, did you ask him?”
“No, dear.”
“No? Why not?”
“I didn’t get a chance. He asked me first.”
Uncle Nehemiah, the proprietor of a ramshackle little hotel in Mobile, was aghast at finding a newly arrived guest with his arm around his daughter’s waist.
“Mandy, tell that niggah to take his arm from around yo’ wais’,” he indignantly commanded.
“Tell him you’self,” said Amanda. “He’s a puffect stranger to me.”
“Jack and I have parted forever.”
“Good gracious! What does that mean?”
“Means that I’ll get a five-pound box of candy in about an hour.”
Here’s to solitaire with a partner,
The only game in which one pair beats three of a kind.
_See also_ Love; Proposals.
COWARDS
Mrs. Hicks was telling some ladies about the burglar scare in her house the night before.
“Yes,” she said, “I heard a noise and got up, and there, from under the bed, I saw a man’s legs sticking out.”
“Mercy!” exclaimed a woman. “The burglar’s legs?”
“No, my dear; my husband’s legs. He heard the noise, too.”
MRS. PECK–“Henry, what would you do if burglars broke into our house some night?”
MR. PECK (_valiantly_)–“Humph! I should keep perfectly cool, my dear.”
And when, a few nights later, burglars _did_ break in, Henry kept his promise: he hid in the ice-box.
Johnny hasn’t been to school long, but he already holds some peculiar views regarding the administration of his particular room.
The other day he came home with a singularly morose look on his usually smiling face.
“Why, Johnny,” said his mother, “what’s the matter?”
“I ain’t going to that old school no more,” he fiercely announced.
“Why, Johnny,” said his mother reproachfully, “you mustn’t talk like that. What’s wrong with the school?”
“I ain’t goin’ there no more,” Johnny replied; “an” it’s because all th’ boys in my room is blamed old cowards!”
“Why, Johnny, Johnny!”
“Yes, they are. There was a boy whisperin’ this mornin’, an’ teacher saw him an’ bumped his head on th’ desk ever an’ ever so many times. An’ those big cowards sat there an’ didn’t say quit nor nothin’. They let that old teacher bang th’ head off th’ poor little boy, an’ they just sat there an’ seen her do it!”
“And what did you do, Johnny?”
“I didn’t do nothin’–I was the boy!”–_Cleveland Plain Dealer_.
A negro came running down the lane as though the Old Boy were after him.
“What are you running for, Mose?” called the colonel from the barn.
“I ain’t a-runnin’ fo’,” shouted back Mose. “I’se a-runnin’ from!”
COWS
Little Willie, being a city boy, had never seen a cow. While on a visit to his grandmother he walked out across the fields with his cousin John. A cow was grazing there, and Willie’s curiosity was greatly excited.
“Oh, Cousin John, what is that?” he asked.
“Why, that is only a cow,” John replied.
“And what are those things on her head?”
“Horns,” answered John.
Before they had gone far the cow mooed long and loud.
Willie was astounded. Looking back, he demanded, in a very fever of interest:
“Which horn did she blow?”
There was an old man who said, “How Shall I flee from this horrible cow?
I will sit on this stile
And continue to smile,
Which may soften the heart of that cow.”
CRITICISM
FIRST MUSIC CRITIC–“I wasted a whole evening by going to that new pianist’s concert last night!”
SECOND MUSIC CRITIC–“Why?”
FIRST MUSIC CRITIC–“His playing was above criticism!”
As soon
Seek roses in December–ice in June, Hope, constancy in wind, or corn in chaff; Believe a woman or an epitaph,
Or any other thing that’s false, before You trust in critics.
–_Byron_.
It is much easier to be critical than to be correct.–_Disraeli_.
_See also_ Dramatic criticism.
CRUELTY
“Why do you beat your little son? It was the cat that upset the vase of flowers.”
“I can’t beat the cat. I belong to the S.P.C.A.”
CUCUMBERS
Consider the ways of the little green cucumber, which never does its best fighting till it’s down.–Stanford Chaparral.
CULTURE
_See_ Kultur.
CURFEW
A former resident of Marshall, Mo., was asking about the old town.
“I understand they have a curfew law out there now,” he said.
“No,” his informant answered, “they did have one, but they abandoned it.”
“What was the matter?”
“Well, the bell rang at 9 o’clock, and almost everyone complained that it woke them up.”
CURIOSITY
The Christmas church services were proceeding very successfully when a woman in the gallery got so interested that she leaned out too far and fell over the railing. Her dress caught in a chandelier, and she was suspended in mid-air. The minister noticed her undignified position and thundered at the congregation:
“Any person in this congregation who turns around will be struck stone-blind.”
A man, whose curiosity was getting the better of him, but who dreaded the clergyman’s warning, finally turned to his companion and said:
“I’m going to risk one eye.”
A one-armed man entered a restaurant at noon and seated himself next to a dapper little other-people’s-business man. The latter at once noticed his neighbor’s left sleeve hanging loose and kept eying it in a how-did-it-happen sort of a way. The one-armed man paid no attention to him but kept on eating with his one hand. Finally the inquisitive one could stand it no longer. He changed his position a little, cleared his throat, and said: “I beg pardon, sir, but I see you have lost an arm.”
The one-armed man picked up his sleeve with his right hand and peered anxiously into it. “Bless my soul!” he exclaimed, looking up with great surprise. “I do believe you’re right.”
_See also_ Wives.
CYCLONES
_See_ Windfalls.
DACHSHUNDS
A little boy was entertaining the minister the other day until his mother could complete her toilet. The minister, to make congenial conversation, inquired: “Have you a dog?”
“Yes, sir; a dachshund,” responded the lad.
“Where is he?” questioned the dominic, knowing the way to a boy’s heart.
“Father sends him away for the winter. He says it takes him so long to go in and out of the door he cools the whole house off.”
DAMAGES
A Chicago lawyer tells of a visit he received from a Mrs. Delehanty, accompanied by Mr. Delehanty, the day after Mrs. Delehanty and a Mrs. Cassidy had indulged in a little difference of opinion.
When he had listened to the recital of Mrs. Delehanty’s troubles, the lawyer said:
“You want to get damages, I suppose?”
“Damages! Damages!” came in shrill tones from Mrs. Delehanty. “Haven’t I got damages enough already, man? What I’m after is satisfaction.”
A Chicago man who was a passenger on a train that met with an accident not far from that city tells of a curious incident that he witnessed in the car wherein he was sitting.
Just ahead of him were a man and his wife. Suddenly the train was derailed, and went bumping down a steep hill. The man evinced signs of the greatest terror; and when the car came to a stop he carefully examined himself to learn whether he had received any injury. After ascertaining that he was unhurt, he thought of his wife and damages.
“Are you hurt, dear?” he asked.
“No, thank Heaven!” was the grateful response.
“Look here, then,” continued hubby, “I’ll tell you what we’ll do. You let me black your eye, and we’ll soak the company good for damages! It won’t hurt you much. I’ll give you just one good punch.” _–Howard Morse_.
Up in Minnesota Mr. Olsen had a cow killed by a railroad train. In due season the claim agent for the railroad called.
“We understand, of course, that the deceased was a very docile and valuable animal,” said the claim agent in his most persuasive claim-agentlemanly manner “and we sympathize with you and your family in your loss. But, Mr. Olsen, you must remember this: Your cow had no business being upon our tracks. Those tracks are our private property and when she invaded them, she became a trespasser. Technically speaking, you, as her owner, became a trespasser also. But we have no desire to carry the issue into court and possibly give you trouble. Now then, what would you regard as a fair settlement between you and the railroad company?”
“Vail,” said Mr. Olsen slowly, “Ay bane poor Swede farmer, but Ay shall give you two dollars.”
DANCING
He was a remarkably stout gentleman, excessively fond of dancing, so his friends asked him why he had stopped, and was it final?
“Oh, no, I hope not,” sighed the old fellow. “I still love it, and I’ve merely stopped until I can find a concave lady for a partner.”
George Bernard Shaw was recently entertained at a house party. While the other guests were dancing, one of the onlookers called Mr. Shaw’s attention to the awkward dancing of a German professor.
“Really horrid dancing, isn’t it, Mr. Shaw?”
G.B.S. was not at a loss for the true Shavian response. “Oh that’s not dancing” he answered. “That’s the New Ethical Movement!”
On a journey through the South not long ago, Wu Ting Fang was impressed by the preponderance of negro labor in one of the cities he visited. Wherever the entertainment committee led him, whether to factory, store or suburban plantation, all the hard work seemed to be borne by the black men.
Minister Wu made no comment at the time, but in the evening when he was a spectator at a ball given in his honor, after watching the waltzing and two-stepping for half an hour, he remarked to his host:
“Why don’t you make the negroes do that for you, too?”
If they had danced the tango and the trot In days of old, there is no doubt we’d find The poet would have written–would he not?– “On with the dance, let joy be unrefined!”
–_J.J. O’Connell_.
DEAD BEATS
See _Bills_; Collecting of accounts.
DEBTS
A train traveling through the West was held up by masked bandits. Two friends, who were on their way to California, were among the passengers.
“Here’s where we lose all our money,” one said, as a robber entered the car.
“You don’t think they’ll take everything, do you?” the other asked nervously.
“Certainly,” the first replied. “These fellows never miss anything.”
“That will be terrible,” the second friend said. “Are you quite sure they won’t leave us any money?” he persisted.
“Of course,” was the reply. “Why do you ask?”
The other was silent for a minute. Then, taking a fifty-dollar note from his pocket, he handed it to his friend.
“What is this for?” the first asked, taking the money.
“That’s the fifty dollars I owe you,” the other answered. “Now we’re square.”–_W. Dayton Wegefarth_.
WILLIS–“He calls himself a dynamo.”
GILLIS–“No wonder; everything he has on is charged.”–_Judge_.
Anticipated rents, and bills unpaid, Force many a shining youth into the shade, Not to redeem his time, but his estate, And play the fool, but at the cheaper rate.
–_Cowper_.
I hold every man a debtor to his profession.–_Bacon_.
DEER
“The deer’s a mighty useful beast
From Petersburg to Tennyson
For while he lives he lopes around And when he’s dead he’s venison.”
–_Ellis Parker Butler_.
DEGREES
A young theologian named Fiddle
Refused to accept his degree;
“For,” said he, “’tis enough to be Fiddle, Without being Fiddle D.D.”
DEMOCRACY
“Why are you so vexed, Irma?”
“I am so exasperated! I attended the meeting of the Social Equality League, and my parlor-maid presided, and she had the audacity to call me to order three times.”–_M. L. Hayward_.
_See also_ Ancestry.
DEMOCRATIC PARTY
HOSPITAL PHYSICIAN–“Which ward do you wish to be taken to? A pay ward or a–”
MALONEY–“Iny of thim, Doc, thot’s safely Dimocratic.”
DENTISTRY
Our young hopeful came running into the house. His suit was dusty, and there was a bump on his small brow. But a gleam was in his eye, and he held out a baby tooth.
“How did you pull it?” demanded his mother.
“Oh,” he said bravely, “it was easy enough. I just fell down, and the whole world came up and pushed it out.”
DENTISTS
The dentist is one who pulls out the teeth of others to obtain employment for his own.
One day little Flora was taken to have an aching tooth removed. That night, while she was saying her prayers, her mother was surprised to hear her say: “And forgive us our debts as we forgive our dentists.”–_Everybody’s_.
One said a tooth drawer was a kind of unconscionable trade, because his trade was nothing else but to take away those things whereby every man gets his living.–_Haglitt_.
DESCRIPTION
A popular soprano is said to have a voice of fine timbre, a willowy figure, cherry lips, chestnut hair, and hazel eyes. She must have been raised in the lumber regions.–_Ella Hutchison Ellwanger_.
DESIGN, DECORATIVE
Harold watched his mother as she folded up an intricate piece of lace she had just crocheted.
“Where did you get the pattern, Mamma?” he questioned.
“Out of my head,” she answered lightly.
“Does your head feel better now, Mamma?” he asked anxiously.–_C. Hilton Turvey_.
DESTINATION
A Washington car conductor, born in London and still a cockney, has succeeded in extracting thrills from the alphabet–imparting excitement to the names of the national capitol’s streets. On a recent Sunday morning he was calling the streets thus:
“Haitch!”
“High!”
“Jay!”
“Kay!”
“Hell!”
At this point three prim ladies picked up their prayer-books and left the car.–_Lippincott’s Magazine_.
Andrew Lang once invited a friend to dinner when he was staying in Marlowe’s road, Earl’s Court, a street away at the end of that long Cromwell road, which seems to go on forever. The guest was not very sure how to get there, so Lang explained:
“Walk right’ along Cromwell road,” he said, “till you drop dead and my house is just opposite!”
DETAILS
Charles Frohman was talking to a Philadelphia reporter about the importance of detail.
“Those who work for me,” he said, “follow my directions down to the very smallest item. To go wrong in detail, you know, is often to go altogether wrong–like the dissipated husband.
“A dissipated husband as he stood before his house in the small hours searching for his latchkey, muttered to himself:
“‘Now which did my wife say–hic–have two whishkies an’ get home by 12, or–hic–have twelve whishkies an’ get home by 2?'”
DETECTIVES
When Conan Doyle arrived for the first time in Boston he was instantly recognized by the cabman whose vehicle he had engaged. When the great literary man offered to pay his fare the cabman said quite respectfully:
“If you please, sir, I should much prefer a ticket to your lecture. If you should have none with you a visiting-card penciled by yourself would do.”
Conan Doyle laughed.
“Tell me,” he said, “how did you know who I was, and I will give you tickets for your whole family.”
“Thank you sir,” was the reply. “Why, we all knew–that is, all the members of the Cabmen’s Literary Guild knew–that you were coming by this train. I happen to be the only member on duty at the station this morning. If you will excuse personal remarks your coat lapels are badly twisted downward where they have been grasped by the pertinacious New York reporters. Your hair has the Quakerish cut of a Philadelphia barber, and your hat, battered at the brim in front, shows where you have tightly grasped it in the struggle to stand your ground at a Chicago literary luncheon. Your right overshoe has a large block of Buffalo mud just under the instep, the odor of a Utica cigar hangs about your clothing, and the overcoat itself shows the slovenly brushing of the porters of the through sleepers from Albany, and stenciled upon the very end of the ‘Wellington’ in fairly plain lettering is your name, ‘Conan Doyle.'”
DETERMINATION
After the death of Andrew Jackson the following conversation is said to have occurred between an Anti-Jackson broker and a Democratic merchant:
MERCHANT (_with a sigh_)–“Well, the old General is dead.”
BROKER (_with a shrug_)–“Yes, he’s gone at last.”
MERCHANT (_not appreciating the shrug_)–“Well, sir, he was a good man.”
BROKER (_with shrug more pronounced_)–“I don’t know about that.”
MERCHANT (_energetically_)–“He was a good man, sir. If any man has gone to heaven, General Jackson has gone to heaven.”
BROKER (_doggedly_)–“I don’t know about that.”
MERCHANT–“Well, sir, I tell you that if Andrew Jackson had made up his mind to go to heaven, you may depend upon it he’s there.”
DIAGNOSIS
An epileptic dropped in a fit on the streets of Boston not long ago, and was taken to a hospital. Upon removing his coat there was found pinned to his waistcoat a slip of paper on which was written:
“This is to inform the house-surgeon that this is just a case of plain fit: not appendicitis. My appendix has already been removed twice.”
DIET
Eat, drink, and be merry, for to-morrow ye diet.–_William Gilmore Beymer_.
There was a young lady named Perkins, Who had a great fondness for gherkins;
She went to a tea
And ate twenty-three,
Which pickled her internal workin’s.
“Mother,” asked the little one, on the occasion of a number of guests being present at dinner, “will the dessert hurt me, or is there enough to go round?”
The doctor told him he needed carbohydrates, proteids, and above all, something nitrogenous. The doctor mentioned a long list of foods for him to eat. He staggered out and wabbled into a Penn avenue restaurant.
“How about beefsteak?” he asked the waiter. “Is that nitrogenous?”
The waiter didn’t know.
“Are fried potatoes rich in carbohydrates or not?”
The waiter couldn’t say.
“Well, I’ll fix it,” declared the poor man in despair. “Bring me a large plate of hash.”
A Colonel, who used to assert
That naught his digestion could hurt, Was forced to admit
That his weak point was hit
When they gave him hot shot for dessert.
To abstain that we may enjoy is the epicurianism of reason.–_Rousseau_.
They are as sick that surfeit with too much, as they that starve with nothing.–_Shakespeare_.
DILEMMAS
A story that has done service in political campaigns to illustrate supposed dilemmas of the opposition will likely be revived in every political “heated term.”
Away back, when herds of buffalo grazed along the foothills of the western mountains, two hardy prospectors fell in with a bull bison that seemed to have been separated from his kind and run amuck. One of the prospectors took to the branches of a tree and the other dived into a cave. The buffalo bellowed at the entrance to the cavern and then turned toward the tree. Out came the man from the cave, and the buffalo took after him again. The man made another dive for the hole. After this had been repeated several times, the man in the tree called to his comrade, who was trembling at the mouth of the cavern:
“Stay in the cave, you idiot!”
“You don’t know nothing about this hole,” bawled the other. “There’s a bear in it!”
DINING
A twelve course dinner might be described as a gastronomic marathon.–_John E. Rosser_.
“That was the spirit of your uncle that made that table stand, turn over, and do such queer stunts.”
“I am not surprised; he never did have good table manners.”
“Chakey, Chakey,” called the big sister as she stood in the doorway and looked down the street toward the group of small boys: “Chakey, come in alreaty and eat youseself. Maw she’s on the table and Paw he’s half et.”
There was a young lady of Cork,
Whose Pa made a fortune in pork;
He bought for his daughter
A tutor who taught her
To balance green peas on her fork.
An anecdote about Dr. Randall Davidson, bishop of Winchester, is that after an ecclesiastical function, as the clergy were trooping in to luncheon, an unctuous archdeacon observed: “This is the time to put a bridle on our appetites!”
“Yes,” replied the bishop, “this is the time to put a bit in our mouths!”–_Christian Life_.
There was a young lady named Maud,
A very deceptive young fraud;
She never was able
To eat at the table,
But out in the pantry–O Lord!
“Father’s trip abroad did him so much good,” said the self-made man’s daughter. “He looks better, feels better, and as for appetite–honestly, it would just do your heart good to hear him eat!”
Whistler, the artist, was one day invited to dinner at a friend’s house and arrived at his destination two hours late.
“How extraordinary!” he exclaimed, as he walked into the dining-room where the company was seated at the table; “really, I should think you might have waited a bit–why, you’re just like a lot of pigs with your eating!”
A macaroon,
A cup of tea,
An afternoon,
Is all that she
Will eat;
She’s in society.
But let me take
This maiden fair
To some cafe,
And, then and there,
She’ll eat the whole
Blame bill of fare.
–_The Mystic Times_.
The small daughter of the house was busily setting the tables for expected company when her mother called to her:
“Put down three forks at each place, dear.”
Having made some observations on her own account when the expected guests had dined with her mother before, she inquired thoughtfully:
“Shall I give Uncle John three knives?”
For a man seldom thinks with more earnestness of anything than he does of his dinner–_Samuel Johnson_.
DIPLOMACY
WIFE–“Please match this piece of silk for me before you come home.”
HUSBAND–“At the counter where the sweet little blond works? The one with the soulful eyes and–”
WIFE–“No. You’re too tired to shop for me when your day’s work is done, dear. On second thought, I won’t bother you.”
Scripture tells us that a soft answer turneth away wrath. A witty repartee sometimes helps one immensely also.
When Richard Olney was secretary of state he frequently gave expression to the opinion that appointees to the consular service should speak the language of the countries to which they were respectively accredited. It is said that when a certain breezy and enterprising western politician who was desirous of serving the Cleveland administration in the capacity of consul of the Chinese ports presented his papers to Mr. Olney, the secretary remarked:
“Are you aware, Mr. Blank, that I never recommend to the President the appointment of a consul unless he speaks the language of the country to which he desires to go? Now, I suppose you do not speak Chinese?”
Whereupon the westerner grinned broadly. “If, Mr. Secretary,” said he, “you will ask me a question in Chinese, I shall be happy to answer it.” He got the appointment.
“Miss de Simpson,” said the young secretary of legation, “I have opened negotiations with your father upon the subject of–er–coming to see you