Part 3

He was tall, solemn, and dignified. One would have thought him a Roman senator on his way to make a speech on finance. But he wasn't, singularly enough, he wasn't. He was a book-agent. He wore a linen duster; and his brow was furrowed with many care-lines, as if he had been obliged to tumble out of bed every other night of his life to dose a sick child. He called into a tailor-shop on Randolph Street, removed his hat, took his "Lives of Eminent Philosophers" from its cambric bag, and approached the tailor with,--

"I'd like to have you look at this rare work."

"I haf no time," replied the tailor.

"It is a work which every thinking man should delight to peruse," continued the agent.

"Zo?" said the tailor.

"Yes. It is a work on which a great deal of deep thought has been expended; and it is pronounced by such men as Wendell Phillips to be a work without a rival in modern literature."

"Makes anybody laugh when he zees it?" asked the tailor.

"No, my friend: this is a deep, profound work, as I have already said. It deals with such characters as Theocritus, Socrates, and Plato, and Ralph Waldo Emerson. If you desire a work on which the most eminent author of our day has spent years of study and research, you can find nothing to compare with this."

"Does it shpeak about how to glean cloze?" anxiously asked the man of the goose.

"My friend, this is no receipt-book, but an eminent work on philosophy, as I have told you. Years were consumed in preparing this volume for the press; and none but the clearest mind could have grasped the subjects herein discussed. If you desire food for deep meditation, you have it here."

"Does dis pook say sumding about der Prussian war?" asked the tailor as he threaded his needle.

"My friend, this is not an every-day book, but a work on philosophy,--a work which will soon be in the hands of every profound thinker in the country. What is the art of philosophy? This book tells you. Who were, and who are, our philosophers? Turn to these pages for a reply. As I said before, I don't see how you can do without it."

"And he don't haf any dings about some fun, eh?" inquired the tailor, as the book was held to him.

"My friend, must I again inform you that this is not an ephemeral work, not a collection of nauseous trash, but a rare, deep work on philosophy? Here, see the name of the author. That name alone should be proof enough to your mind, that the work cannot be surpassed for profundity of thought. Why, sir, Gerritt Smith testifies to the greatness of this volume!"

"I not knows Mr. Schmidt: I make no cloze mit him," returned the tailor in a doubting voice.

"Then you will let me leave your place without having secured your name to this volume? I cannot believe it. Behold, what research! Turn these leaves, and see these gems of richest thought! Ah! if we only had such minds, and could wield such a pen! But we can read, and, in a measure, we can be like him. Every family should have this noble work. Let me put your name down: the book is only twelve dollars."

"Zwelve dollars for der pook! Zwelve dollars, und he has noddings about der war, und no fun in him, or say noddings how to get glean cloze! What you take me for, mister? Go right away mit dat pook, or I call der bolice, and haf you locked up pooty quick!"

DETROIT FREE PRESS

THE MOTHER-IN-LAW.

Dhere vas many qveer dings in dis land of der free I neffer could qvite understand; Der beoples dhey all seem so deefrent to me As dhose in mine own faderland. Dhey gets blenty droubles, und indo mishaps Mitout der least bit off a cause; Und, vould you pelief it? dhose mean Yankee chaps, Dhey fights mit dheir moder-in-laws!

Shust dink off a vite man so vicked as dot! Vhy not gife der oldt lady a show? Who vas it gets oup, ven der night id vas hot, Mit mine baby, I shust like to know? Und den in der vinter vhen Katrine vas sick, Und der mornings vas shnowy and raw, Who made righdt avay oup dot fire so qvick? Vhy, dot vas mine moder-in-law.

Id vos von off dhose woman's righdts vellers I been, Dhere vas noding dot's mean aboudt me; Ven der oldt lady vishes to run dot masheen, Vhy, I shust let her run id, you see. Und vhen dot sly Yawcob vas cutting some dricks (A block off der oldt chip he vas, yaw!), Eef she goes for dot chap like some dousand of bricks, Dot's all righdt! She's mine moder-in-law.

Veek oudt und veek in, it vas alvays der same, Dot voman vas boss off der house; Budt, dhen, neffer mindt! I vos glad dot she came, She vas kind to mine young Yawcob Strauss. And vhen dhere vas vater to get vrom der spring, Und firevood to shplit oup und saw, She vas velcome to do it. Dhere's not anyding Dot's too good for mine moder-in-law.

_Charles Follen Adams._

SCHNEIDER'S TOMATOES.

Schneider is very fond of tomatoes. Schneider has a friend in the country who raises "garden sass, and sich." Schneider had an invitation to visit this friend last week, and regale himself on his favorite vegetable. His friend Pfeiffer being busy negotiating with a city produce-dealer, on his arrival, Schneider thought he would take a stroll in the garden, and see some of his favorites in their pristine beauty. We will let him tell the rest of his story in his own language,--

"Vell, I valks shust a liddle vhile roundt, vhen I sees some of dose dermarters, vot vas so red und nice as I nefer dit see any more, und I dinks I vill put mineself oudside about a gouple-a-tozen, shust to geef me a liddle abbedite vor dinner. So I bulls off von ov der reddest und pest lookin' ov dose dermarters, und dakes a pooty good pite out ov dot, und vas chewing it oup pooty qvick, vhen--py shiminy!--I dort I hat a peese of red-hot goals in mine mout, or vas chewing oup dwo or dree bapers of needles; und I velt so pad, alreaty, dot mine eyes vas vool of tears; und I mate vor an 'olt oken pucket,' vot I seen hangin' in der vell, as I vas goomin' along.

"Shust den mine vriend Pfeiffer game oup, und ask me vot mate me veel so pad, und if any of mine vamily vas dead. I dold him dot I vas der only von ov der vamily dot vas pooty sick; und den I ask him vot kind of dermarters dose vas vot I hat shust peen bicking; und, mine cracious! how dot landsman laughft, und said dot dose vas _red beppers_, dot he vas raising vor bepper-sauce. You pet my life, I vas mat. I radder you geef me feefty tollars as to eat some more ov dose bepper-sauce dermarters."

CHARLES F. ADAMS.

DUTCH HUMOR.

A German in a Western town, who has not paid much attention to learning English, had a horse stolen from his barn the other night, whereupon he advertised as follows:--

"Von nite, de oder day, ven I was bin awake in my shleep, I heare sometings vat I tinks vas not yust right in my barn, an I out shumps to bed, and runs mit the barn out; and ven I was dere coom, I seez dat my pig gray-iron mare he vas bin tide loose, and run mit the staple off. And who efer will him back pring, I yust so much pay him as vas bin kushtomary."

* * * * *

An old Dutchman froze his nose. While thawing the frost out, he said: "I haf carry dot nose fordy year, unt he nefer freeze hisself before. I no understand dis ting."

SQUIRE HOUSTON'S MARRIAGE CEREMONY.

You bromish now, you goot man dare, Vot sthands ubon de vloor, To hab dish vooman for your vife, Und lub her ebbermore; To feed her vell mit sourkraut, Peens, putthermilks und scheese, Und in all dings to lend your aid, Dat vill bromote her ease?

"Yesh;" und you vooman sthandin dare, Do bledge your vord dish tay, Dat you vill took for your hoospand, Dis man--und him obey; Dat you vill ped und poard mit him, Vosh, iron und mend his cloothes, Laf ven he shmiles, veep ven he moorns, Und chare his shoys und voes?

Vell, den, I now, viddin dese valls, Mit shoy, und not mit kreef, Bronounch you bote to pe one mind, Von name, von man, von beef; I pooblish here dese holy pands, Dese matthermoonial ties, Pefore Got, mine frow, Hans und Poll, Und all dese gazin eyes.

Und, as de shacred Schripture says, Vot God unites togedder Let no man dare ashunder put, Let no man dare dem sever. Dare! britekroom, now schoost you sthop, I'll hold tight fasht your collar, Unteel you anshwer me dish ting, Und dat's--_vare ish mine tollar_?

DOT DELEPHONE.

"I guess I haf to gif up my delephone already," said an old citizen yesterday, as he entered the office of the company with a very long face.

"Why, what's the matter now?"

"Oh, everyting! I got de delephone in mine house so as I could shpeak mit der poys in der saloon down town, and mit my relations in Springville; but I haf to give it up. I nefer haf so much droubles."

"How?"

"Vell, my poy Shon, in der saloon, he rings der pell, and calls opp, und says an old frient of mine vants to see how she vorks. Dot ish all right. I says, 'Hello!' und he say, 'Shtand back a leetle closer.' I shtand back closer, und helloes again. Den he says, 'Shtand a leetle off.' I shtand back a leetle off, und yells unce more; und he say, 'Shpeak louder!' I yells louder. It goes dat vhay ten minutes; und den he says, 'Go to Texas, you old Dutchman!' You see?"

"Yes."

"And den mine brudder in Springville, he rings der pells und calls me oop, und says how I vas dis efenings. I says I vhas feeling like some colts; und he says, 'Who vants to puy some goats?' I says, 'Colts! colts! colts!' Und he answers, 'Oh, coats! I thought you said goats.' Ven I goes to ask him of he feels petter, I hears a voice crying oudt, 'Vot Dutchmans is dot on dis line, enyhow?' Den somepody answers, 'I don't know, but I likes to punch his headt.' You see?"

"Yes."

"Vhell, somedimes my vife vhants to shpeak mit me ven I am down in der saloon. She rings mine pell, und I says, 'Hello!' Nopody shpeaks to me. She rings again, und I says, 'Hello!' like dunder. Den der central office tells me to go aheads, und den tells me holdt on, und den tells mine vife dot I am gone avay. I yells oudt, 'Dot is not so;' und somepody says, 'How can I talk if dot old Dutchmans doan' keep shtill?' You see?"

"Yes."

"Und ven I go in de bedt at night, somepody rings der pell like der house vas on fire; und ven I shumps oudt, und says, 'Hello!' I hear somepody saying, 'Kaiser, doan't you vhant to puy a dog?' I vants no dog; und ven I tells 'em so, I hear some peoples laughing, 'Haw! haw! haw!' You see?"

"Yes."

"Vell, you dake it oudt, dat ish all vhat it ish; und ven somepody likes to shpeak mit me dey shall coom right avay by mine saloon. Oof mine brudder ish sick, he shall got petter. Und oof somepody vhants to puy a dog, apout two glock de morning, let him yust coom vere I can tole him somedings, dat ish all."

THE UNITED ORDER OF HALF-SHELLS.

"My vhife all der time says to me, 'Carl Dunder, if you vhas to be kilt by a butcher-cart or ice-wagon, or if some shteamboat plow you oop on de river, I left mit no money. Vhy doan' you pe insured mit your life?'

"Vhell, I tinks about dot a good deal. It vhas my duty dot my vhife und Katie doan' go mit der poorhouse if I can help it, und I tink it vhas pest to get some insurance. I shpeak to my frendt, Shon Plazes, vhas about it, und Shon he says,--

"'Of course you vhant insurance. You come into my lodge of der United Order of Half-shells. Dot vhas an order which only cost one dollar a year, und if you die your family puts on shtyle mit der ten thousand dollar in greenpacks. I calls a meeting right avhay mit your saloon, und we put you through like some streaks of greased lightning.'

"Vhell, I goes home and tells der old vhomans, und she says dot vhas O. K. She doan's like to see me die; but if some shmall-pox or yellow-fever comes to Detroit, und takes me avay, she likes to haf a long funeral procession, und build me a grave-stone vhich reads dot Carl Dunder vhas a goot husband, a kind fadder, und dot he vhas gone to heaven only a leedle vhile before he vhas ready. I shpeak to my daughter Katie, und she sheds some tears und dells me dot she looks as cute as an angel in some mourning gloze for me. So it vhas all right, und I sweep out my saloon, und about twenty men come in dot eafnings to make me a Half-shell.

"Oxcuse me if I vhas madt, und use some words like a pirate. My frendt, Shon Plazes, vas dhere mit a red cap on his head, und a voice so solemn dot I feels chills go up my pack. He calls de meeting to order, and says I like to shoine and become a Half-shell.

"'Does he like peer?' asks some mans in the gorner.

"'He does,' said Shon Plazes.

"'Und so do we!' yells all der meeting, and Shon says I was to come down mit der peer. Dot was nineteen glasses.

"Den Shon Plazes, he reads from a pook mit a plue cover dot man vhas dying efery day so fast dot you can't count 'em, or somedins like dot, und he calls oudt,--

"'Vhat shall safe dis man?'

"Und eaferpody yells, 'Lager peer!' Dot means, I set him oop again, und dot vhas nineteen glasses more. Den two men take me und vhalk me all aroundt, und Shon Plazes he cries oudt,--

"'Ve vhas here to-day und gone to-morrow! In der midnight, when eaferpody vhas ashleep, a tief comes und shteals our life away! Vhat keeps dot tief afar off?'

"Und eaferpody groans oudt like he vhas dying, 'Cool lager!' Dot means I was to set 'em oop again, und dot vhas nineteen glasses more. Den Shon Plazes he leads me twice around und says,--

"'Carl Dunder, you tinks you vhas made a Half-shell already, but you vhas mistaken. Put out your left handt. Dot vhas goot. Now, my frendt, vhat vas der foundation stone of liberty, equality, und brotection?'

"Und eaferpody lifs oop his voice und groans out, 'All der lager a man vhants!' Dot means, I vhas to tap a fresh keg; und I believe dot growd drinks more as forty glasses. I doan' like it so previous like. I didn't, but my frendt Shon Plazes tells me to lie down on der table on my pack, und shut my eyes. Vhen I vhas in bosition he hit me three dimes mit his fist in der stomach, und cries oudt,--

"'Vhen he vhas alife he vhas kind mit der boor; vhen he vhas death, we forgot his faults. Brudders, vhat vhas der great brinciple dot leads to charity und penevolence?'

"Und eaferpody shumps to his feet und yells out, 'Some more lager and cigars!' Vhell, I set 'em oop once more, und den I vhas so madt dot I take my glub und clean dot crowd oudt mit der street. I belief he vas a fraud on me. I belief Shon Plazes tells all der poys, und it vhas a put-up shob. I lose my peer and cigars, und somebody carries off more as ten bottles of vhiskey from my par, und I vhas no more a Half-shell as yoo are. If dot vhas some vhey to insure me so dat my vhife und Katie haf some mourning goods, und puy me a grave-stone mit a lamp on top, I go out of pollytics right avay. Oxcuse me dot I shed some tears, und kick oafer der shairs und tables, for I vhas madt like some cats on a gloze-line."

WHY NO SCOTCHMEN GO TO HEAVEN.

Long years ago, in time so remote that history does not fix the epoch, a dreadful war was waged by the king of Scotland. Scottish valor prevailed; and the king of Scotland, elated by success, sent for his prime minister.

"Weel, Sandy," said he, "is there ne'er a king we canna conquer noo?"

"An it please your majesty, I ken o' a king that your majesty canna vanquish."

"An' who is he, Sandy?"

The prime minister, reverently looking up, said, "The King o' heaven."

"The king of whaur, Sandy?"

"The King o' heaven."

The Scottish king did not understand, but was unwilling to exhibit any ignorance.

"Just gang your ways, Sandy, and tell King o' heaven to gi'e up his dominions, or I'll come mysel' and ding him oot o' them; and mind you, Sandy, you dinna come back to us until ye ha'e dune oor biddin'."

The prime minister retired much perplexed, but met a priest, and, re-assured, returned and presented himself.

"Weel, Sandy," said the king, "ha'e ye seen the King o' heaven? and what says he to our biddin'?"

"An it please your majesty, I ha'e seen one o' his accredited ministers."

"Weel, and what says he?"

"He says your majesty may e'en ha'e his kingdom for the axin' o' it."

"Was he sae civil?" asked the king, warming to magnanimity. "Just gang your ways back, Sandy, an' tell the King o' heaven that for his civility the de'il a Scotchman shall set foot in his kingdom."

YAWCOB STRAUSS.

I haf von funny leedle poy, Vot gomes schust to mine knee; Der queerest schap, der createst rogue, As efer you dit see. He runs, und schumps, und schmashes dings In all barts off der house; But vot off dot? he was mine son, Mine leedle Yawcob Strauss.

He get der measles und der mumbs, Und eferyding dot's oudt; He sbills mine glass of lager bier, Poots schnuff indo mine kraut. He fills mine pipe mit limburg cheese: Dot vas der roughest chouse; I'd dake dot vrom no oder poy But leedle Yawcob Strauss.

He dakes der milk-ban for a dhrum, Und cuts mine cane in dwo; To make der schtiks to beat it mit,-- Mine cracious, dot vas drue! I dinks mine hed vas schplit abart, He kicks oup sooch a touse: But nefer mind; der poys vas few Like dot young Yawcob Strauss.

He asks me questions sooch as dese: Who baints mine nose so red? Who vas it cuts dot schmoodth blace oudt Vrom der hair ubon mine hed? Und vhere der plaze goes vrom der lamp Vene'er der glim I douse. How gan I all dose dings eggsblain To dot schmall Yawcob Strauss?

I somedimes dink I schall go vild Mit sooch a grazy poy, Und vish vonce more I gould haf rest, Und beaceful dimes enshoy; But ven he vas ashleep in ped, So guiet as a mouse, I prays der Lord, "dake anyding, But leaf dot Yawcob Strauss."

C. F. ADAMS.

LEEDLE YAWCOB STRAUSS--WHAT HE SAYS.

Maype somedimes you don't half szeen Mine fahder told vhen he vas peen Szo vild almost as never vas Mit me; hees Leedle Yawcob Strauss, Und all apout thdose tings because Vit me he wasn't haf szome ease, Nor schmoke hees bipe, nor schleep in peese Nor eats szome schmall limburger scheese; Nor dakes hees peer nor saurkraout, Yen Leedle Yawcob was apout.

Vell now! I shbiel hees lager peer? Mine gootness! dot ish very queer; Don't I haf seen him mit his handt, Tdake vup some glass of lager, andt Schoost ash he schmell him mit hees eye, Shbiel him all in hees schtoomach? vy, He shbiel more lager peer don I, Andt thden he laff, und dance, und szing, More like some poys don anythding.

I took der meezles; vell I shbose Dot thdere vas blenty left of thdose; I poots der schnuff inder hees kraout, So it make him don't scheeze so loudt, I haf der mumps; vot if I is? Mine vace don't got szer far abart Nor pe szo pig nor redt as his.

Und thden apout those limburg scheese; Vell thdere I dhink dot I agrees Mit him, dot it vos szomevat rouff, But thden he szay vonce, dat enough Vas schoost so petter nor a veest, Und szo I think he kouldn't got Enough, so scheap und quivck ash vot He haf mit hees bipe full off dot.

Thdose milk-ban dot I learn to blay, I get dot drouble in thdis way: Poot pottom up across my knee, Schoost ash I szeen him do to me, I tumps upon him mit ter stdick, Und make der music pooty qvick; Vy ish it dot hees hed't vas shblit Vith sooch a leedle noise, ven it Don't preak oup mit der noise dot he Make, ven he tump dot stdick on me?

Put ven I ask apout szome thdings, Vot make hees nose szo redt, and prings Der schoomth shbot oudt mitin his hedt; I shbose dot I shall know apout All of thdose thdings--ven I findt out, Und szo I vait avhile, and szee Vot der next drouble ish to pe, Und if der meeschiefs thdake this blace, I brays like vot dot fahder says Tdake everyding dots in thdis house, Put leave thdis leedle Yawcob Strauss.

ARTHUR DAKIN.

ISAAC ROSENTHAL ON THE CHINESE QUESTION.

Mr. Rosenthal, who was proprietor of a clothing store in Avenue A, had been mentioned to me as an unusually intelligent German Hebrew, and I met him at the door of his store looking out for customers. As I paused for a moment, he addressed me thus:--

"Gome righd in, mein liebe Herr! Don'd mind dot leedle tog. He vill not pide you. I geeb him to trive avay de bad leedle poy in de sthreed. You like to puy zome very coot glothing? I can zell you dot goat--for--Nein! _Teufel!_ Id is not dot? So! And you vand to speak to me aboud de Shinamen? Vell, I dell you dot you gome yust to de righd blace. You bedder don'd go no furder. You yust gome in de back shtore. You take ein glas bier? you smoke ein gut zigar?--no, not dot--I call him real Havana, bud I make him up-shtairs. I gif you a bedder one as dot. So! I lighd him for you. Now I shpeag mit you aboud dem Shinamen, und you put vat I say in de baber, pecause de bublic ought to know vat bad beoples dey ish. I keeb last year ein kleine shop mit mein bruder--hish name is Zolomon--and ve haf yust as coot glothes as dem dot you zee dere; and von day dere gome in ein, zwei, drei Shinamen, and zay to me, 'How do, John?' and I dell him dot my name ish not John; but he only laugh. Den he zay, 'You got some coot glothes, John? S'pose hab got, mi likee see.' I haf such vay of shpeaking nefer heard, but I can a leedle undershtand, and I t'ink dot he vill not know a coot goad ven he zee id, and I show him some dot ish not of the brime qualidy, and vill not last so long as dot kind as I show you, and I sharge him a coot brice; and he look at him, and dry him on, and I dell him dot id vill him very vell fit. Und den dish great rasgal he say to me dot he has not much money got, but some leedle box of very coot tea, und he make a pargain and shwop mit me. Und I t'ink dot I make mit him a coot drade, und I give him de goat, and dake de dea; and he say, 'Chin chin, John,' and go out, and I don'd never see him no more. Und vat you tink? ven I open dot dea, I find him one inch coot, and below dot, noding but yust rubbish, and some schmall bieces of iron to make him heavy. Und so, mein liebe Herr, you can de reason undershtand dot I like not to have dot Shinese beobles gome to New York."

SCRIBNER'S MONTHLY.

"DER DOG UND DER LOBSTER."

(_From the New York Clipper._)

Dot dog he vos dot kind of dog Vot ketch dot ret so sly, Und squeeze him mit his leetle teeth, Und den dot ret vos die.

Dot dog he vas onquisitive Vareffer he vas go, Und, like dot vooman, all der time Someding he vants to know.

Vone day, all by dot market-stand Vare fish und clams dey sell, Dot dog vas poke his nose aboud Und find out vat he smell.

Dot lobster he vas took dot snooze Mit von eye open vide, Und ven dot dog vas come along Dot lobster he vas spied.

Dot dog he smell him mit his nose, Und scratch him mit his paws, Und push dot lobster all aboud, Und vonder vot he vas.

Und den dot lobster he voke up, Und crawl yoost like dot snail, Und make vide open ov his claws, Und grab dot doggie's tail.

Und den so quick as never vas Dot cry vent to der sky, Und, like dem swallows vot dey sing, Dot dog vas homeward fly.

Yoost like dot dunderbolt he vent-- Der sight vas awful grand. Und every street dot dog vas turn, Down vent dot apple-stand.

Der shildren cry, der vimmin scream, Der mens fall on der ground; Und dot boliceman mit his club Vas novare to pe found.

I make dot run und call dot dog, Und vistle awful kind; Dot makes no difference vot I say, Dot dog don't look pehind.