Part 17

A university of Illinois professor is very popular among the students. He was entertaining a group of them at his residence one night. Taking down a magnificent sword that hung over the fireplace, he brandished it about, exclaiming, “Never will I forget the day I drew this blade for the first time.” “Where did you draw it, sir?” an awe-struck freshman asked. “At a raffle,” said the professor.

* * * * *

In the vicinity of Germantown there lived a worthy old lady and her son John, who were once called upon to entertain a number of ladies at dinner during Quarterly meeting. As John began to carve the broiled chickens, he entered upon a flowery speech of welcome, but in the midst of his flattering utterances his mother, who was somewhat deaf, piped up from the other end of the table: “You needn’t be praisin’ of ’em up, John, I’m afraid they’re a lot of tough old hens, every one of ’em.”

* * * * *

One of Père Ollivier’s flock, a very beautiful and handsomely dressed woman, coming very late to church one Sunday morning, caused some disturbance and stir among the worshipers by her entrance and interrupted the flow of eloquence of the worthy father, who, very irritable and easily put out, said: “Madame perhaps waited to take her chocolate before coming to church?” To this, madame, unabashed, graciously replied: “Yes, mon père; and two rolls with it.”

* * * * *

Of late years the House of Commons has seen some lively times. Many of them have been brought about by the irascible but delightful Irish member, Dr. Tanner. On one occasion, when he had been indulging rather freely and his ever ready tongue being loosened, he met Sir Ellis Ashmead Bartlett in the lobby, and taking him to one side he said, in the greatest confidence, and without the slightest tinge of anger, but with a world of meaning: “Bartlett, you are a fool.” “You are drunk,” retorted the knight. “That’s all right,” replied Dr. Tanner. “To-morrow I shall be sober, but you will still be a fool.”

* * * * *

A reader for a New York publishing house gives the following, quoted from a story submitted by an Indiana authoress, as being about the choicest bit he has come across in many years:

“Reginald was bewitched. Never had the baroness seemed to him so beautiful as at this moment, when, in her dumb grief, she hid her face.”

* * * * *

An old negro living in Carrollton was taken ill recently, and called in a physician of his race to prescribe for him. But the old man did not seem to be getting any better, and finally a white physician was called. Soon after arriving Dr. S---- felt the darky’s pulse for a moment, and then examined his tongue. “Did your other doctor take your temperature?” he asked. “I don’t know, sah,” he answered, feebly; “I haint missed nuthin’ but mah watch yit, boss.”