Part 11

“Wanted, a herder for 500 sheep that can speak Spanish fluently.”

“For Sale--House in good neighborhood, by an invalid lady three stories high and heated with furnace.”

A contemporary contains the startling news that “A carload of brick came in for a walk through the park.”

* * * * *

An error for which nervousness may have been responsible was that made by the boy who was told to take the Bishop’s shaving water to him one morning and cautioned to answer the Bishop’s inquiry “Who’s there?” by saying, “The boy, my Lord.” Whether from nervousness or not, the boy managed to transpose the words of this sentence with ludicrous effect, and the Bishop was surprised and perhaps alarmed to hear in response to his inquiry the answer, “The Lord, my boy.”

* * * * *

Tailor--“Do you want padded shoulders, my little man?”

Willie--“Naw; pad de pants! Dat’s where I need it most.”

* * * * *

Dr. Tupper does not hesitate to take examples from his own profession, as witness his curious story of the young clergyman who, after preaching a funeral sermon, wished to invite the mourners to view the remains, but became confused and exclaimed:

“We will now pass around the bier.”

* * * * *

“Wossatchoogot?”

“Afnoonnoos. Lassdition.”

“Enthinkinnut?”

“Naw. Nothninnut ’cept lasspeechrosefelt’s. Lottarot.”

“Donsayso? Wosswetherpredickshun?”

“Sesrain. Donbleevetho. Funthingthiswethernevkintellwossgunnado.”

“Thasright!”

* * * * *

President Eliot of Harvard recently visited a hotel in New York, and when he left the dining-room the colored man in charge of the hats picked up his tile without hesitation and handed it to him.

“How did you know that was my hat when you have a hundred there?” asked Mr. Eliot.

“I didn’t know it, sah,” said the negro.

“Didn’t know it was mine? Then why did you give it to me?”

“Because you gave it to me, sah.”

* * * * *

“How small have you felt?” she asked anxiously.

“Well,” he replied, “I have felt as small as a man in the presence of the head plumber.”

“That isn’t enough.”

“I have felt as small as the Prohibition nominee for Vice-President.”

She shook her head.

“Or as a man when his wife catches him in a lie.”

“That isn’t anything.”

“I have felt as small as the man who made a righteous complaint to the president of a trolley line.”

She shook her head again sadly.

“That isn’t anything to the way I feel,” she said. “You know I have never been to Europe, and I’ve been talking with a girl who has just returned.”

* * * * *

In one of the Atlanta Sunday-schools recently the lesson for the day had to do with Mammon and the corrupting influences of great riches.

Toward the close of the exercises the superintendent called upon the infant class to repeat the Golden Text, which had special reference to man’s inability to serve his Creator and the money-god at one and the same time. The class failed to respond as it should, when the superintendent, noticing his own young hopeful in the ranks, who had that very morning been drilled thoroughly on the text, called on him. The response was immediate, though a slight departure from the original, for in a voice that was distinctly heard in all parts of the room there came the following modification:

“Ye can not serve God and mama!”

* * * * *

“Any complaints, corporal?” said the colonel, making one morning a personal inspection.

“Yes, sir. Taste that, sir,” said the corporal promptly.

The colonel put the liquid to his lips. “Why,” he said, “that’s the best soup I ever tasted!”

“Yes, sir,” said the corporal, “and the cook wants to call it coffee.”

* * * * *

Reporter--“To what do you attribute your great age?”

Oldest Inhabitant--“I hain’t sure yet, sir. There be several o’ them patent-medicine companies as is bargainin’ with me.”

* * * * *

Mr. Choate, ex-Ambassador of the United States at London, tells of the address made by an Irish officer to his men who had just returned from a fruitless expedition.

Rising to his feet with the utmost solemnity and seriousness, the officer said:

“My men, I am fully aware of the fact that many of you brave fellows are disappointed because in this campaign you were afforded little opportunity to fight; but, my brave boys, reflect upon this: that had there been any fighting, there would have been many absent faces here to-day!”

* * * * *

“Young man (23) with five years’ experience in leading publishers, desires to better his position.”

But what better position could there be than that of leading our publishers?

* * * * *

From Children’s Chat, by “Grandma” in the “Times” of Natal:

“I want you, my dears, to write me a short snake story, something that really happened to some one you know; and if you can tell me of a child being really bitten I shall be glad to hear about it.”

Truly it is said that a child’s best friend is his grandma.

* * * * *

Wandering over Salisbury Plain on Whit Monday, a correspondent came across a large stone inscribed: “Turn me over.” After much difficulty he succeeded in turning it over, and found on the under side of the stone the words: “Now turn me back again, so that I can catch some other idiot.”

* * * * *

He--“Dearest, if I had known this tunnel was so long, I’d have given you a jolly hug.”

She--“Didn’t you? Why--why--”

* * * * *

Timid Lady (going up the Washington Monument elevator).--“Conductor, what if the rope breaks that holds us?”

Conductor--“Oh, there are a number more attached as safety ropes.”

Timid Lady--“But if they all break, where shall we go?”

Conductor--“Oh, well, m’m, that all depends upon what kind of a life you have been living before.”

* * * * *

Elmer, though only a little boy, was the oldest child of an already numerous family. He was invited to go in and see a little baby sister. Asked by his mother what he thought of the baby, he said, “W’y, mama, it’s real nice. But do you think we needed it?”

* * * * *

Time: 2 A.M.

“Ma, I want a drink!”

“Hush, darling; turn over and go to sleep.”

“I want a drink!”

“No, you are restless. Turn over, dear, and go to sleep.”

(After five minutes.) “Ma, I want a drink.”

“Lie still, Ethel, and go to sleep.”

“But I want a drink!”

“No, you don’t want a drink; you had a drink just before you went to bed. Now be still and go right to sleep.”

(After five minutes.) “Ma, won’t you please give me a drink?”

“If you say another word I’ll get up and spank you. Now go to sleep. You are a naughty girl.”

(After two minutes.) “Ma, when you get up to spank me will you give me a drink?”

* * * * *

Once upon a time there was a young married man who had some slight bickerings with the woman of his choice. These having occurred with great frequency, he went to his father, who was older and much more married.

“Father,” he said, “is it not meet that I should be the ringmaster in my own wickiup? Or must I kowtow to the old lady?”

Whereat the old man smiled wisely and said:

“My son, yonder are a hundred chickens and here a fine team of horses. Do you place the feathered tribe on this wagon, hitch up the team, and start out. Wherever you find a man and his wife living together, make diligent investigation to find out who the commanding officer is, and where it is the woman give her a chicken. If you find a man running a house give him one of the horses.”

So the young man loaded up the fowls and started out upon his pilgrimage of self-education. And when he had but seven chickens left, he approached a habitation with his forlorn inquiry, to which the man replied:

“I’m the ace-high cockalorum of this outfit.”

And the wife, without fear or favor, corroborated the statement. Then the young man said:

“Take your choice of the horses. Either one you fancy is yours.” And after the man had walked around the team several times and looked in their mouths, he said, “Well, I’ll take the bay.”

Now, the wife didn’t like bay horses, and she called John aside, and after whispering in his ear she allowed him to return.

“I guess I’ll take the black horse,” he said.

“Not a bit of it,” said the pilgrim. “You’ll take a chicken.”

* * * * *

They were talking over the engagement of one of the daughters of the family when the negro servant came in. One of the girls asked: “Cindy, have you seen Edith’s fiancé?” “No’m, honey, hit ain’t been in de wash yit.”

* * * * *

In the late financial stringency a clerk in one of the New York banks was trying to explain to a stolid old Dutchman why the bank could not pay cash to depositors as formerly, and was insisting that he be satisfied with Clearing House checks. But the old man could not grasp the situation, and finally the president of the bank was called upon to enlighten the dissatisfied customer. After a detailed explanation of the financial situation the president concluded, “Now, my good man, you understand, don’t you?”

“Yes,” dubiously replied the Dutchman, “I tinks I understand. It’s just like this; ven my baby vakes up in der night und cries for milk, I give her a milk ticket.”

* * * * *

Levinsky, despairing of his life, made an appointment with a famous specialist. He was surprised to find fifteen or twenty people in the waiting-room.

After a few minutes he leaned over to a gentleman near him and whispered, “Say, mine frient, this must be a pretty goot doctor, ain’t he?”

“One of the best,” the gentleman told him.

Levinsky seemed to be worrying over something.

“Vell, say,” he whispered again, “he must be pretty exbensive, then, ain’t he? Vat does he charge?”

The stranger was annoyed by Levinsky’s questions and answered rather shortly: “Fifty dollars for the first consultation and twenty-five dollars for each visit thereafter.”

“Mine Gott!” gasped Levinsky. “Fifty tollars the first time und twenty-five tollars each time afterwards!”

For several minutes he seemed undecided whether to go or to wait. “Und twenty-five tollars each time afterward,” he kept muttering. Finally, just as he was called into the office, he was seized with a brilliant inspiration. He rushed toward the doctor with outstretched hands.

“Hello, doctor,” he said effusively. “Vell, here I am again.”

* * * * *

A clergyman who was holding a children’s service at a Continental winter resort had occasion to catechize his hearers on the parable of the unjust steward. “What is a steward?” he asked. A little boy who had arrived from England a few days before held up his hand. “He is a man, sir,” he replied, “who brings you a basin.”

* * * * *

A teacher giving a lecture on the rhinoceros found his class was not giving him all the attention it should. “Now, gentlemen,” he said, “if you want to realize the true hideous nature of this animal you must keep your eyes fixed on me.”

* * * * *

A negro had made several ineffectual efforts to propose to the object of his affections, but on each occasion his courage failed him at the last moment. After thinking the matter over he finally decided to telephone, which he did. “Is that you, Samantha?” he inquired upon being given the proper number. “Yes, it’s me,” returned the lady. “Will you marry me, Samantha, and marry me quick?” “Yes, I will,” was the reply; “who’s speaking?”

* * * * *

He was a big, black, good-hearted, old negro, stranded near Boston, and he had decided, after considerable “cogitation,” to work his way back to, the South, where he would feel more at home. In Boston, in Springfield, in Hartford, in New Haven, it was always the same. When he rang a bell and asked for work and a bite to eat the answer usually was, “I’m very sorry, but there’s not a thing to be done here to-day.” There were occasional exceptions, of course, or uncle could never have got on, but the thing most to be counted upon was pleasing politeness coupled with nothing else.

At last the old man left New York and then Philadelphia behind, and one day found himself in Baltimore. His knowledge of geography was _nil_, but he thought he ought soon to be getting into “de Souf,” and with that hope at heart rang the bell of a fine house on Charles Street. The door was opened by the host himself, who, after an instant’s survey of the figure before him, blurted out:

“Why, yo’ ---- black rascal! How dare yo’ ring this bell? Get off mah steps this secon’, befo’ I brek yo’ haid!”

“’Deed I will, boss; ’deed I will,” came the hurried answer. “I wuz on’y lookin’ fer a bite to eat, boss.”

“A bite to eat!” repeated the other. “An’ don’t yo’ know whar to go for all yo’ want? Get yo’self round back, an’ they’ll feed yo’ full--but cyart yo’ good-for-nuthin’ black carcass off these steps, I say.”

And as uncle went around to the side door he raised his hands to heaven, and with tears of rejoicing running down his furrowed cheeks, said:

“Bress de Lord! I’s back agin among mah own folks!”

* * * * *

A little boy who had just joined Sunday-school was asked by his mother how he liked it.

“Why!” exclaimed Charlie disgustedly, “they don’t know much. The teacher asked what was the collec’, and I was the only one who knew.”

“And what did you say, dear?”

“Why, I told them pretty quick that it was a pain in the stomach.”

* * * * *

Travelers’ tales which often add charm to the conversation of an agreeable person frequently render a bore more tiresome than ever, a fact that was amusingly illustrated by an occurrence in a Baltimore clubhouse not long ago.

“There I stood, gentlemen,” the long-winded narrator was saying, after droning on for an hour with reference to his trip to Switzerland--“there I stood, with the abyss yawning in front of me.”

“Pardon me,” hastily interjected one of the unfortunate men who had been obliged to listen to the story, “but was that abyss yawning before you got there?”

* * * * *

After a lesson on digestion the teacher, anxious to know how much her instruction had been understood, questioned the class. The first answer was rather discouraging, as the girl called upon made this startling statement:

“Digestion begins in the mouth and ends in the big and little testament.”

It was the same teacher who received the following note:

“Pleas teacher do not tel Mary any more about her incides it makes her so proud.”

* * * * *

When Sam Jones was holding his meetings in Dallas, on one occasion he said: “There’s no such thing as a perfect man. Anybody present who has ever known a perfect man stand up.”

Nobody stood up.

“Those who have ever known a perfect woman, stand up.”

One demure little woman stood up.

“Did you ever know an absolutely perfect woman?” asked Sam, somewhat amazed.

“I didn’t know her personally,” replied the little old woman, “but I have heard a great deal about her. She was my husband’s first wife.”

* * * * *

Former President Scott, of the Cincinnati Southern Railroad, was greatly annoyed, when he first took hold of the road, by the claims for horses and cattle killed by trains on their way through Kentucky. It seemed as though it were not possible for a train to run north or south through Kentucky without killing either a horse or a cow. And every animal killed, however scrawny, scrubby, or miserable it may have been before the accident, always figured in the claims subsequently presented as of the best blood in Kentucky. “Well,” said Scott one day, after examining a claim, “I don’t know anything that improves stock in Kentucky like crossing it with a locomotive.”

* * * * *

One of a loving couple (watching a pile-driver at work)--“Dear, I feel so sorry for those poor men. They have been trying for the last half hour to lift that thing out, and every time they get it almost to the top, it falls back again.”

* * * * *

Sentinel (on guard)--“Halt! Who comes there?”

The Colonel--“Fool!”

Sentinel--“Advance, fool, and give the countersign.”

* * * * *

“Oh, I’m so sorry I could not come to your ‘At Home’ yesterday.”

“Dear me, weren’t you there?”

“Why of course I was--how very silly of me--I quite forgot.”

* * * * *

A theological student was sent one Sunday to supply a vacant pulpit in a Connecticut valley town. A few days after he received a copy of the weekly paper of that place with the following item marked:

“Rev. ---- of the senior class at Yale Seminary supplied the pulpit at the Congregational Church last Sunday, and the church will now be closed three weeks for repairs.”

* * * * *

A Certain Ohio lady with a large sense of religious duty was recently importuned by a tramp. The good religionist, after considerable hesitation, produced a piece of dry bread which she delivered with the following formula, evidently prepared for such occasion:

“Now, sir, not for your sake, nor for my sake, but for God’s sake, I give you this bread.”

The tramp accepted the offering and had got as far as the gate when he suddenly turned and came back where his benefactress was waiting to see him safely out.

“Say, miss,” he drawled, “not for your sake, nor for my sake, but for God’s sake put some butter on it.”

* * * * *

“Mother, mother, mother, turn the hose on me!” sang little Willie, as his mama was dressing him one morning.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“You’ve put my stockin’s on wrong side out,” he said.

* * * * *

The will of Stephen Girard provided that no clergyman should ever be allowed to enter the splendid Girard College at Philadelphia.

One day a very clerical looking man, with immaculate white cravat and choker, approached the entrance.

“You can’t come in here,” said the janitor.

“The ---- I can’t!” said the stranger.

“Oh,” said the janitor, “excuse me. Step right in.”

It is said that the visitor was the late State Senator Sessions, of Western New York.

* * * * *

The following anecdote of ex-President Roosevelt’s youth is told:

When Roosevelt was a student at Harvard he was required to recite a poem in public declamation. He got as far as a line which read:

“When Greece her knees in suppliance bent,” when he stuck there.

Again he tried:

“When Greece her knees...,” but could get no farther.

The teacher waited patiently, finally remarking:

“Grease her knees again, Roosevelt, then perhaps she’ll go.”

* * * * *

A Young graduate in law, who had had some experience in New York City, wrote to a prominent practitioner in Arkansas to inquire what chance there was in that section for such a one as he described himself to be. He said: “I am a Republican in politics, and an honest young lawyer.” The reply that came seemed encouraging in its interest: “If you are a Republican the game laws here will protect you, and if you are an honest lawyer you will have no competition.”

* * * * *

Brown--“Ah! they’ve just dropped the anchor.”

Mrs. B.--“And served ’em right! It’s been dangling outside all the morning!”

* * * * *

As the immaculate young woman and the tired but happy-looking young man entered the Pullman, followed by a grinning porter, the other passengers became “wise” in a moment. The stout drummer leaned over to the man behind him and remarked:

“Bride and groom--100 to 1.”

Every one turned to view the newcomers, who had deposited themselves vis-à-vis in No. 4. As if unconscious of any scrutiny, the young man said, in a high, nasal voice:

“Well, do as you like about it; either increase the margin or let it go. You didn’t follow my advice in the first place, but if you want to pull out, you’d better do it now.”

“Oh, I know,” the woman replied. “What’s the use of going all over it again?”

“Huh!” said the stout man’s companion. “Guess you lose. Been playing the market. Not much bride and groom talk in that.”

The rest of the passengers sniffed and then turned their backs on the new couple. Whereat the young man smiled at the young woman, and they softly joined hands as he whispered:

“Millicent, dear, my shoes are full of rice.”

* * * * *

A Short time ago an old lady went on board Nelson’s flag-ship, the _Victory_. The different objects of interest were duly shown her, and on reaching the spot where the great naval hero was wounded (which is marked by a raised brass plate), the officer remarked: “Here Nelson fell.” “And no wonder!” exclaimed the old lady; “I nearly fell there myself.”

* * * * *

A Good Samaritan, passing an apartment-house in the small hours of the morning, noticed a man leaning limply against the doorway.

“What’s the matter?” he asked. “Drunk?”

“Yep.”

“Do you live in this house?”

“Yep.”

“Do you want me to help you upstairs?”

“Yep.”

With much difficulty he half dragged, half carried the drooping figure up the stairway to the second floor.

“What floor do you live on?” he asked. “Is this it?”

“Yep.”

Rather than face an irate wife who might, perhaps, take him for a companion more at fault than her spouse, he opened the first door he came to and pushed the limp figure in.

The good Samaritan groped his way downstairs again. As he was passing through the vestibule he was able to make out the dim outlines of another man, apparently in worse condition than the first one.

“What’s the matter?” he asked. “Are you drunk, too?”

“Yep,” was the feeble reply.

“Do you live in this house, too?”

“Yep.”

“Shall I help you upstairs?”

“Yep.”

Stopping on the second floor, where this man also said he lived, he opened the door and pushed him in. As he again reached the front door he discerned the shadow of a third man, evidently worse off than either of the other two. He was about to approach him when the object of his solicitude lurched out into the street and threw himself into the arms of a passing policeman. “For Heaven’s sake, off’cer,” he gasped, “protect me from that man. He’s done nothin’ all night long but carry me upstairs ’n’ throw me down th’ elevator shaf’.”

* * * * *

Husband comes in to find his wife turning everything topsy-turvy.

“Good gracious! Isabel, what are you doing?”

“I just received a telegram from Aunt Jane saying she’ll be here at 6.30 and I can’t find her photograph anywhere.”

* * * * *

At the school at which the writer was educated there was a certain assistant master who invariably “put his foot in it” when he got the chance. On one occasion, being exasperated by the conduct of a boy, he turned to him and said, “Look here, X., I’ll take care that you won’t be the biggest fool in the class as long as I’m here.”

* * * * *

Mrs. Barron was one of the new “summer folk,” and not acquainted with the vernacular. Consequently, she was somewhat surprised, upon sending an order for a roast of lamb to the nearest butcher, to receive the following note in reply: “Dear Mam. I am sorry I have not killed myself this week, but I can get you a leg off my brother (the butcher at the farther end of the town). He’s full up of what you want. I seen him last night with five legs. Yours respectful. George Gunton.”

* * * * *

An artist employed in repairing the properties of an old church in Belgium, being refused payment in a lump sum, was asked for details, and sent in his bill as follows:-

1. Corrected the Ten Commandments, £1 10 0

2. Embellished Pontius Pilate and put a ribbon in his bonnet, 0 8 1

3. Put a New Tail on the Rooster of St. Peter and mended his Comb, 0 12 0

4. Re-plumed and Gilded the Left Wing of the Guardian Angel, 0 15 6