Part 4

A prominent railroad man hurried down the lobby of a Binghamton hotel and up to the desk. He had just ten minutes in which to pay his bill and reach the station. Suddenly it occurred to him that he had forgotten something.

“Here, boy,” he called to a negro bellboy, “run up to 48 and see if I left a box on the bureau. And be quick about it, will you?”

The boy rushed up the stairs. The ten minutes dwindled to seven and the railroad man paced the office. At length the boy appeared.

“Yas, suh,” he panted breathlessly. “Yas, suh, yo’ left it, suh!”

* * * * *

A Boston minister tells of a little girl friend of his who, one day, proudly displayed for his admiration a candy cat.

“Are you going to eat it?” the minister asked.

“No, sir; it’s too pretty to eat. I’m going to keep it,” the little girl replied, as she stroked it with a moist little hand.

Several days later the minister saw her again, and inquired about the cat.

A regretful look came into her eyes.

“It’s gone,” she sighed. “You see, I saved it and saved it, till it got so dirty that I just _had_ to eat it.”

* * * * *

“Only fools are certain, Tommy; wise men hesitate.”

“Are you sure, uncle?”

“Yes, my boy; certain of it.”

* * * * *

“My rubber,” said Nat Goodwin, describing a Turkish bath that he once had in Mexico, “was a very strong man. He laid me on a slab and kneaded me and punched me and banged me in a most emphatic way. When it was over and I had gotten up, he came up behind me before my sheet was adjusted, and gave me three resounding slaps on the bare back with the palm of his enormous hand.

“‘What in blazes are you doing?’ I gasped, staggering.

“‘No offense, sir,’ said the man. ‘It was only to let the office know that I was ready for the next bather. You see, sir, the bell’s out of order in this room.’”

* * * * *

“I want to know,” said the irate matron, “how much money my husband drew out of this bank last week.” “I can’t give you that information, ma’am,” answered the man in the cage. “You’re the paying teller, aren’t you?” “Yes, but I’m not the telling payer.”

* * * * *

A lady once showed her little girl a beautiful new silk dress which had just arrived from the dressmaker, and by way of improving the occasion she said: “You know, dear, all this was given us by a poor worm.” The little girl looked puzzled for a minute or two and then said: “Do you mean dad, mama?”

* * * * *

When Blaine was a young lawyer, and cases were few, he was asked to defend a poverty-stricken tramp accused of stealing a watch. He pleaded with all the ardor at his command, drawing so pathetic a picture with such convincing energy that at the close of his argument the court was in tears and even the tramp wept. The jury deliberated but a few minutes and returned the verdict “not guilty.” Then the tramp drew himself up, tears streaming down his face as he looked at the future “Plumed Knight,” and said: “Sir, I have never heard so grand a plea, I have not cried before since I was a child. I have no money with which to reward you, but (drawing a package from the depths of his ragged clothes), here’s that watch; take it and welcome.”

* * * * *

The other day an ingenious-looking person called with the message to the housewife that her husband had sent him for his dress suit, which was to be pressed and redone by the tailor.

“Dear me,” said the housewife, “he said nothing to me about it. Did he look quite well?”

“Yes, mum; he wuz in good health and spirits.”

“And he seemed quite as if he knew what he was about?”

“He did that, mum.”

“And did he look as if he were quite content with things about him?”

“He was all that, mum.”

“Well,” said the lady, “it seems strange that he should only think of that dress suit now, because it’s ten years since he’s dead and buried, and I’ve often wondered how he’s been getting on.”

* * * * *

Two friends were walking down Bond Street, London. A man came up and saluted the elder: “How do you do, Lord ----?”

“Ah! how-do? Glad to see you. How’s the old complaint?”

The stranger’s face clouded over and he shook his head. “No better.”

“Dear me; so sorry. Glad to have met you. Good-by.”

“Who’s your friend?” asked the other, when the stranger was gone.

“No idea.”

“Why, you asked him about his old complaint!”

“Pooh, pooh!” replied the nobleman, unconcernedly. “The old fellow’s well over sixty; bound to have something the matter with him.”

* * * * *

“Did you tip the waiter?”

“Yes, so to speak. I turned him down.”

* * * * *

Dr. Jowett of Oxford was a formidable wit. At a gathering at which he was present the talk ran upon the comparative gifts of two Balliol men who had been made respectively a judge and a bishop. Prof. Henry Smith, famous in his day for his brilliancy, pronounced the bishop to be the greater man of the two for this reason: “A judge, at the most, can only say, ‘You be hanged,’ whereas a bishop can say, ‘You be damned!’”

“Yes,” said Dr. Jowett, but if the judge says, “‘You be hanged,’ you _are_ hanged.”

* * * * *

“I’m so glad you’ve come. We’re going to have a young married couple for dinner.”

“I’m glad too. They ought to be tender.”

* * * * *

“I pay as I go,” declared the pompous citizen.

“Not while I’m running these apartments,” declared the janitor. “You’ll pay as you move in.”

* * * * *

Among seven distinguished men who were to speak at the opening exercises of a new school was a professor well known for his lapses of memory. But his speech was clear that night, and as he seated himself his loving wife felt that he had fully earned the burst of applause that followed, and she clapped her little hands enthusiastically. Then her cheeks crimsoned.

“Did you see anything amusing about the close of my address, my dear?” asked the Professor as they started for home. “It seemed as if I heard sounds suggestive of merriment about me.”

“Well, dear,” said she, “of all the people who applauded your address, you clapped the loudest and longest.”

* * * * *

Teacher--“What is the Hague tribunal?”

Willie--“The Hague tribunal ar--”

Teacher--“Don’t say ‘The Hague tribunal are,’ Willie; use is.”

Willie--“The Hague tribunal isbitrates national controversies.”

* * * * *

Sir Wilfrid Laurier was once on an electioneering tour in Ontario and, as the elections were bitterly contested, every effort was made to stir up race and religious prejudice. One day a Quebec Liberal sent this telegram to Sir Wilfrid: “Report in circulation in this country that your children have not been baptized. Telegraph denial.” To this the Premier replied: “Sorry to say report is correct. I have no children.”

* * * * *

The teacher of one of the rooms in a school in the suburbs of Cleveland had been training her pupils in anticipation of a visit from the school commissioner. At last he came, and the classes were called out to show their attainments.

The arithmetic class was the first called, and in order to make a good impression the teacher put the first question to Johnny Smith, the star pupil.

“Johnny, if coal is selling at $6 per ton, and you pay the coal dealer $24, how many tons of coal will he bring you?”

“Three,” was the prompt reply from Johnny.

The teacher, much embarrassed, said, “Why, Johnny, that isn’t right.”

“Oh, I know it ain’t, but they do it anyhow.”

* * * * *

A publisher who occupied a loft in New York directed one of his clerks to hang out a “Boy wanted” sign at the entrance. The card had been swaying in the breeze only a few minutes when a red-headed little tad climbed to the publisher’s office with the sign under his arm.

“Say, mister,” he demanded of the publisher, “did youse hang out this here ‘Boy Wanted’ sign?”

“I did,” replied the publisher sternly. “Why did you tear it down?”

“Hully gee!” he blurted. “Why, I’m the boy!” And he was.

* * * * *

A distinguished surgeon, Dr. Abernethy by name, famed for his laconic speech as well as for his professional skill, met one day his equal in a woman of few words, who came to him with a hand badly swollen and inflamed.

“Burn?” asked the doctor.

“Bruise.”

“Poultice.”

The next day the patient returned and the dialogue was resumed.

“Better?”

“Worse.”

“More poultice.”

Two days later the woman called again, and this was the conversation:

“Better?”

“Well. Fee?”

“Nothing!” exclaimed the doctor. “Most sensible woman I ever met!”

* * * * *

Visitor--“Well, Harold, what are you going to be when you grow up?”

Harold--“Oh, I’m going to be a sailor; but baby’s only going to be just an ordinary father.”

* * * * *

No amount of persuasion or punishment could keep Johnnie from running away. The excitement of being pursued and of being brought back to a tearful family appealed to his sense of the dramatic and offset the slight discomfort that sometimes followed.

Finally his mother determined upon a new method. She decided, after many misgivings, that the next time Johnnie ran away no notice whatever should be taken of it. He should stay away as long as he pleased and return when he saw fit.

In a few days the youngster again disappeared. His mother was firm in her resolve and no search was made. Great was poor Johnnie’s disappointment. He managed to stay away all day, but when it began to grow dark his courage failed and he started for home. He sneaked ignominiously into the kitchen. Nobody spoke to him. Apparently his absence had not been noticed. This was too much. As soon as opportunity offered he remarked casually, “Well, I see you’ve got the same old cat.”

* * * * *

A gentleman who happened to come in rather late at a dinner found that the guests had finished soup and were on with the next course. When he had sat down a waiter came up and said, “Soup, sir?” “No, thanks,” he replied, whereupon the waiter went away. Another waiter, seeing he had nothing, said to him, “Soup, sir?” He replied rather testily, “No, thank you.” A third waiter, who saw him come in and took compassion on him, placed the soup in front of him. “Look here, my man, is this compulsory?” “No, sir; it’s mulligatawny,” replied the waiter.

* * * * *

A big, burly, fierce-looking man and a meek, inoffensive-looking little chap were sawing timber with a cross-cut saw. A strapping Irishman, passing that way, stopped to watch them. Back and forth, back and forth, they pulled at the saw. Finally the Irishman could stand it no longer. With a whoop and a yell he rushed at the big man and brought him to the ground, burying his knees deep into the sawyer’s chest.

Biff! Bang! Thump! Biff!

“There,” he said, letting him have one parting blow square on the nose, “now m’bbe ye’ll let the little felly hev it!”

* * * * *

Oliver Herford once entered a doubtful-looking restaurant in a small New York town and ordered a lamb-chop. After a long delay the waiter returned, bearing a plate on which reposed a dab of mashed potatoes and a much overdone chop of microscopical proportions with a remarkably long and slender rib attached. This the waiter set down before him and then hurried away.

“See here,” called Herford, “I ordered a chop.”

“Yessir,” replied the man, “there it is.”

“Ah, so it is,” replied Herford, peering at it closely. “I thought it was a crack in the plate.”

* * * * *

In one of the elevators of a city skyscraper, as the elevator shot toward the zenith, a stout man began to sputter. “Bub-but, rt-st-st-b’r’r’r,” he said, as the veins stood out upon his neck. At the twenty-third story the stout man’s eyes were nearly starting from his head, and as he grasped the arm of the elevator man the latter nervously pulled the lever, and the lift started for the bottom at a terrific rate. The solitary passenger danced about, gurgling spasmodically. As the car struck bottom, however, he rushed through the door and up to an important individual, whose cap bore the screed “Starter.” “S-s-s-say,” he sputtered, “t-t-this is the th-th-third trip I-I-I’ve t-t-taken in the elevator, ’n’ I-I-I-I w-w-wanter g-g-g-get off at the sev-sev-seventh fl-fl-fl-floor. Before I-I-I c-c-c-can say sev-sev-seven I-I-I-I’m up to the t-t-top, ’n’ be-be-before I-I-I can cat-cat-catch my br-br-breath I-I-I’m down h-h-here again, ’n’ I-I-I-I’m in a de-de-vil of a hurry.”

* * * * *

Nervous player (deprecatingly playing card)--“I really don’t know what to play. I’m afraid I’ve made a fool of myself.”

Partner (reassuringly)--“That all right. I don’t see what else you could have done!”

* * * * *

Some of Darwin’s boy friends once plotted a surprise for the naturalist. They slew a centipede, glued on it a beetle’s head, and also added to its body the wings of a butterfly and the long legs of a grasshopper. Then they put the new insect in a box and knocked at the great man’s door. “We found this in the fields,” they cried with eager voices. “Do tell us what it can be.” Darwin looked at the strange compound and then at the boys’ innocent faces. “Did it hum when you caught it?” he asked. “Oh yes, sir,” they answered quickly, nudging one another, “it hummed like anything.” “Then,” said the philosopher, “it is a humbug.”

* * * * *

A man had been sent by the house-agents to take an inventory of the drawing-room furniture. He was so long about his task that at last the mistress of the house went to see what was taking place. She found the man slumbering sweetly on the sofa with an empty bottle beside him; it was evident, however, that he had made a pathetic though solitary attempt to do his work, for in the inventory book was written, “One revolving carpet.”

* * * * *

The customs of military service require officers to visit the kitchens during cooking hours to see that the soldiers’ food is properly prepared. One old colonel, who let it be pretty generally known that his orders must be obeyed without question or explanation, once stopped two soldiers who were carrying a soup-kettle out of a kitchen.

“Here, you,” he growled, “give me a taste of that.”

One of the soldiers ran and fetched a ladle and gave the colonel the desired taste. The colonel spat and spluttered.

“Good heavens, man! You don’t call that stuff soup, do you?”

“No, sir,” replied the soldier meekly, “it’s dishwater we was emptyin’, sir.”

* * * * *

The ship upon clearing the harbor ran into a half-pitching, half-rolling sea, that became particularly noticeable about the time the twenty-five passengers at the captain’s table sat down to dinner.

“I hope that all twenty-five of you will have a pleasant trip,” the captain told them as the soup appeared, “and that this little assemblage of twenty-four will reach port much benefited by the voyage. I look upon these twenty-two smiling faces much as a father does upon his family, for I am responsible for the safety of this group of seventeen. I hope that all thirteen of you will join me later in drinking to a merry trip. I believe that we seven fellow passengers are most congenial and I applaud the judgment which chose from the passenger list these three persons for my table. You and I, my dear, sir, are--Here, steward! Bring on the fish and clear away these dishes.”

* * * * *

“Extra Billy” Smith, the Confederate General, was one of the most irascible as well as one of the most patriotic of men. Upon one occasion he was leading a regiment on a long and difficult march. Weary and exhausted they halted for a rest by the wayside. When it became necessary to move on, the General gave the order, but the tired men remained stretched upon the ground. The order was repeated peremptorily. Still no motion. By this time the temper of the General was at white heat. He thundered out:

“If you don’t get up and start at once I’ll march the regiment off and leave every d----d one of you behind.”

They started.

* * * * *

A Boston lawyer, who brought his wit from his native Dublin, while cross-examining the plaintiff in a divorce trial, brought forth the following:

“You wish to divorce this woman because she drinks?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you drink yourself?”

“That’s _my_ business!”--angrily.

Whereupon the unmoved lawyer asked:

“Have you any other business?”

* * * * *

One rainy afternoon Aunt Sue was explaining the meaning of various words to her young nephew. “Now, an heirloom, my dear, means something that has been handed down from father to son,” she said.

“Well,” replied the boy thoughtfully, “that’s a queer name for my pants.”

* * * * *

“The easiest money that I ever made,” said a shipping man the other day, “was handed to me in New York not long ago. I was visiting there and had a little time to myself, so I bought a paper and went down to the river front. I saw an advertisement in the paper saying that a tug was to be auctioned off that day, so I went to the place and stood around examining the tug. After a while a man who had been watching me came over and began asking questions. I told him I was interested in boats and was from Philadelphia. Then he asked: ‘What are you doing down here?’ ‘I came down to this auction sale,’ I said. ‘Well,’ said the man, ‘if you want to keep on the right side of the boys you’ll do something for me. Here’s $100; do not bid on the tug.’ I took the money and departed. I had not the slightest intention of bidding.”

* * * * *

A bride and groom had been much troubled by the stares of people at hotels wherever they went. So when they arrived at the next hotel the groom called the colored head-waiter.

“Now, George,” he said, “we have been bothered to death by people staring at us because we are just married. We want to be free from that sort of thing here. Now, here’s two dollars, and remember I trust you not to tell people that we are just married, if they ask you. Understand?”

“Yas, sah!” said George; “I un’stand.”

All went well that day. But the following morning when the couple came down to breakfast the staring was worse than ever. Chambermaids in the hall snickered; the clerks behind the desk nudged each other; everybody in the dining-room stared. When the couple returned to their room it was only to see a head sticking out of nearly every room down the long hall.

This was too much.

This _was_ the limit!

Angered beyond control, the groom went to the desk and called for the head-waiter.

“Look here, you old fool,” said the groom, “didn’t I give you two dollars to protect my wife and myself from the staring business?”

“Yas, sah, you did,” said George. “’Pon me soul, I didn’t tell, sah.”

“Then how about this staring?” asked the irate groom. “It’s worse here than anywhere. Did anybody ask if we were married?”

“Yas, sah; several folks did,” replied George.

“Well, what did you tell them?”

“I tole ’em, sah,” replied the honest negro, “you wuzn’t married at all.”

* * * * *

A witty priest was once visiting a “self-made” millionaire, who took him to see his seldom-used library.

“There,” said the millionaire, pointing to a table covered with books, “there are my best friends.”

“Ah,” replied the wit, as he glanced at the leaves, “I’m glad you don’t cut them!”

* * * * *

Mrs. Maloney was before the Judge, charged with assault on Policeman Casey. She had been unusually attentive throughout the proceedings, and now the Judge was summing up the evidence.

“The evidence shows, Mrs. Maloney,” he began, “that you threw a stone at Policeman Casey.”

“It shows more than that, yer Honor,” interrupted Mrs. Maloney; “it shows that Oi hit him.”

* * * * *

When Mark Twain was a young and struggling newspaper writer, in San Francisco, a lady of his acquaintance saw him one day with a cigar-box under his arm looking in a shop window.

“Mr. Clemens,” she said, “I always see you with a cigar-box under your arm. I am afraid you are smoking too much.”

“It isn’t that,” said Mark. “I’m moving again.”

* * * * *

A thunderstorm overtook the Emperor Francis Joseph of Austria when out shooting in 1873 with old Emperor William of Germany and Victor Emmanuel. The three monarchs got separated from their party and lost their way. They were drenched to the skin, and, in search of shelter, hailed a peasant driving a covered cart drawn by oxen along the high road. The peasant took up the royal trio and drove on.

“And who may you be, for you are a stranger in these parts?” he asked, after a while, of Emperor William.

“I am the Emperor of Germany,” replied his Teutonic majesty.

“Ha, very good,” said the peasant, and then, addressing Victor Emmanuel, “and you, my friend?”

“Why, I am the King of Italy,” came the prompt reply.

“Ha, ha, very good, indeed! And who are you?” addressing Francis Joseph.

“I am the Emperor of Austria,” said the latter.

The peasant then scratched his head and said with a knowing wink: “Very good, and who do you suppose I am?”

Their majesties replied they would like very much to know.

“Why, I am his Holiness the Pope.”

* * * * *

In a cemetery at Middlebury, Vt., is a stone, erected by a widow to her loving husband, bearing this inscription:

“Rest in peace--until we meet again.”

* * * * *

Mrs. Gilroy, prominent in the church work of her small city, had acquired a new servant, willing but ignorant.

“Bridget,” she said, “I am going to lie down and do not wish to be disturbed. If any one calls, do not say I am not at home, but give an evasive answer.”

“What’s that, mum?” said Bridget.

Having explained as well as she could, the good lady retired and later appeared below stairs, much refreshed.

“Did any one call?” she asked.

“Yes, mum; the new minister, from your church.”

“Oh, Bridget. What did you tell him?”

“Well,” sez he, “is Mrs. Gilroy at home?” and I sez nuthin’, and sez he a little louder, “Is Mrs. Gilroy at home?” and sez I, “Was your grandmother a monkey?”

* * * * *

A young kindergarten teacher, of Manhattan, who is made much of by her pupils--frequently meeting their parents--has a very affable manner, and, on entering a Broadway car recently, exclaimed in her most cordial way to one of the passengers: “Why, how do you do, Mr. Brown!” As the man addressed evidently did not know her and looked rather dazed, she saw her mistake and hurriedly apologized, saying: “Oh, I beg your pardon-I thought you were the father of one of my children.”

Then every one within hearing looked so amused that the young lady left the car at the next stop.

* * * * *

A Mr. Johnson, of Boston, was the owner of a small yacht, in which he took much pleasure during the summer, cruising along the coast.

He had for a cook a young fellow from Denmark whose English was not always perfect, but who made himself so generally useful that Mr. Johnson kept him for several years at good wages. One summer they landed at a place where a camp-meeting was in full blast. Our friend, the Dane, was greatly interested and took a front seat.

Near the close of the meeting one of the brethren went about among the people exhorting them to “go forward.” Coming to the Dane, he said, “My friend, don’t you want to work for Jesus?”

“No,” said the Dane, “I’ve got a good yob with Yohnson.”

* * * * *

Johnny--“Pa, did Moses have the dyspepsia like you?”

Father--“How on earth do I know? What makes you ask such a question?”

“Why, our Sunday-school teacher says the Lord gave Moses two tablets.”

* * * * *

Elderly Aunt--“I suppose you wondered, dear little Hans, why I left you so abruptly in the lane. I saw a man, and oh, how I ran!”