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Title: More Toasts

Editor: Marion Dix Mosher

Release Date: March 12, 2005  [eBook #15338]

Language: English

Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)


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MORE TOASTS

Jokes, Stories and Quotations

Compiled by

MARION DIX MOSHER
Librarian, Genesee Branch, Rochester (N.Y.) Public Library

New York
The H. W. Wilson Company
London: Grafton & Co.

1922







       *       *       *       *       *

BOOKS OF JOKES, STORIES
AND QUOTATIONS

TOASTER'S HANDBOOK. Peggy Edmond and
Harold Workman Williams. 501p. $1.80

MORE TOASTS. Marion D. Mosher. 552p. $1.80

       *       *       *       *       *




CONTENTS

  PREFACE

  INTRODUCTION
    The Divine Gift of Humor
    The Function of Humor
    Importance of Humor

  MORE TOASTS

  INDEX




PREFACE


The success of the Toaster's Handbook has encouraged its publishers to
compile another that will supplement it and bring it up-to-date. New
subjects keep coming to the front, and the up-to-date toaster needs
up-to-date stories to fit the up-to-date subjects. No public occasion
of today is complete without its joke on the nineteenth amendment, the
allied debts, the income tax, etc.

In offering the toasts, jokes, quotations and stories in this
second volume, the editor has endeavored to bring further aid to the
distracted toastmaster, to the professional after-dinner speaker who
must change his stories often, and to individuals inexperienced in
public speaking and so unfortunate as to have public addresses forced
upon them. He views the product with much the same feeling as did
Alexander Pope, who said, "O'er his books his eyes began to roll, in
pleasing memory of all he stole."

Paolo Bellezze expressed the same feelings in the introduction to his
work "Humor" when he said "Of this work of mine, I must confess it is
a great lot of stuff gathered from everywhere except from my brain....
It is a necklace of pearls strung upon a slender cord; that, I have
put there; the pearls have been furnished me by the most famous
jewelers, native and foreign. This said, I can--without being accused
of pride--recommend it to my respectable customers as an article of
great value and of absolute novelty."

In making this collection, files of such magazines as Life, Judge,
Puck and Punch were drawn on extensively; also magazines having
humorous pages or columns, such as the Literary Digest, Ladies' Home
Journal, Everybody's, Harper's; also Bindery Talk and various other
house organs. According to Samuel Johnson "A man will turn over half
a library to make one book," and the compiler of this one makes humble
acknowledgment to a whole library of books and periodicals where most
of these jokes have already appeared. It has been impossible to give
credit unless the place of first publication was definitely known.

The compiling of "More Toasts" was in large measure cooperative. The
test of the humor of a story or joke is in its efficacy when applied
to normal people under ordinary circumstances. With this philosophy in
mind the editor made it a rule to include nothing until it had first
been "tried on the dog." The original material was first graded into
three classes and, before being accepted, each joke had to stand the
test of appealing to the sense of humor of several persons. The result
is a collection of very carefully selected jokes and stories, only
about fifty per cent of the material originally chosen being used.
If any over-critical reader fails to find them humorous, may not the
fault possibly be due to his own imperfect sense of humor?

There is also much truth in the statement that the point of a jest
lies in the telling of it and often much of the subtle humor is lost
in the reading. The personality of the speaker is a necessary factor
and is frequently more important in the effect produced by the story
than the story itself. Elbert Hubbard once said "Next in importance to
the man who first voices a great thought is the man who quotes it."

The clever compiler, like a good chef, must not only know what to
select but in what order to present it. Knowledge consists in being
able to find a thing when you want it and accordingly an attempt has
been made to pigeonhole each joke where it would be most useful. Such
a classification is at best a difficult and debatable question, and
numerous cross references have been placed wherever it was thought
they might direct the reader to the subject wanted.

With these few explanatory words, the editor presents this little
volume, sincerely hoping that it may prove a friend in need to all who
seek the relaxation of humor, and a lifesaver to that legion of
humble men whose knees tremble when the chairman speaks those fateful
words--"The next speaker of the evening...."

M.D.M.

November, 1922.




INTRODUCTION


What can be more fitting than that a compiled book should have a
compiled introduction? Why should one with great pains and poor
prospects of success attempt to do what has already been well done?
Knowing that all readers of this book have a sense of humor and that
they will approve our decision we begin with a quotation from an
article[1] by Mr. E. Lyttelton.

[Footnote 1: The Nineteenth Century. July, 1922.]


    The Divine Gift of Humor

    The subject of humor has an attraction peculiarly its own,
    because it deals with a mystery which yet is pleasantly
    interwoven with the daily life of each one of us. We often say
    of one of our neighbors that he has no sense of humour. But he
    often laughs; he never spends a day without at least trying to
    laugh, tho it remains but an attempt, an effort, an aspiration
    after something which he seems to have lost but wishes to
    recover. Either, that is, he remains grave when others laugh,
    or he laughs, as Horace says, "with alien jaws," by constraint
    rather than because he cannot help it. He has a confused idea
    that it is expected of him. Such laughter is apparently the
    outcome of an uneasy sense of duty, a dismal travesty of the
    real thing....

    Certainly humour is a singularly elusive thing, and I doubt
    if anyone alive can explain it; but its elusiveness gives it
    something of its charm; and, moreover, the illustrations which
    are necessary to an inquiry into its nature, its scope and
    meaning, are apt to be amusing without being irrelevant.

    Humour has often been roughly described as a sense of the
    incongruous. More satisfying, however, is the following, which
    has been ascribed to Dean Inge: It is a sense of incongruous
    emotions. As soon as we think of the emotions being stirred
    we see that the strange difference between humourous and
    unhumourous people is not an intellectual matter, but follows
    the general law of emotional susceptibility, viz., that it is
    independent of the reason and varies within wide limits
    with each individual, and obviously with each nationality.
    Moreover, it appears that, as it is compounded of two
    emotions, one man may feel one of the emotions but be dull
    to the other, according to his temperament. It is a matter of
    sensitiveness, and in sensitiveness no two of us are alike.

    Crudely judged, then, humour may be described as a blessing of
    nature bestowed on all, but in widely varying measure, so
    that in the case of some of our acquaintance we deplore its
    non-existence, but never in ourselves. Nobody really believes
    that he is wholly without it, partly because, in proportion as
    the sense is really defective, the defect must be in its own
    nature unperceived, but also because the gift is so precious,
    so winsome, that no one could bear to believe that it has
    been denied him. By a merciful law of nature, the delusion is
    unsuspected, for assuredly, if any wholly unhumorous person
    once realised the full extent of his privation, nothing could
    save him from "wretchlessness" and despair.

    I prefer to believe that, like the sense of beauty, the love
    of music, the thrill of admiration for uncalculating heroism,
    we have here a wondrous aid to us in our life's pilgrimage,
    but that if we trace it to a sense of our self-interest, we
    not only vulgarize it, but we turn it into a caricature. For
    there is in humour this singular property; its aroma is so
    subtle, delicate and undefinable that the effort to buttress
    it upon coarse, common utility is doomed to fail, and in the
    mere attempt humour vanishes. There is something deliciously
    contagious about laughter that is quite sincere and
    unthinking; whereas the only people who contrive to be always
    absurd, but never amusing, are those who laugh from a sense of
    duty.

    Humour, then, in the young is restricted in scope, their
    experience of life being small; in women it is quicker than in
    men, but shallower; in the Scotch it is reticent, in the Irish
    voluble and refined, but cold. But wherever it is found
    free from counterfeit, wholesome and contagious, it is the
    offspring of man's heaven-bestowed power of seeing in the
    meannesses of earth the true presence of the Divine.

Darwin says the causes of humor are legion and exceedingly complex and
various disquisitions upon humor and laughter would seem to support
him. Its social nature is emphasized by Edwin Paxton Hood:

    The sources of all laughter and merriment are in the cordial
    sympathies of our nature. Laughter is very nearly related
    to the highest and most instinctive wisdom; it stands at no
    distant remove from Judgment on the one hand, and Imagination
    on the other; and it is a proof of a healthy nature, for both
    thinking and acting.

C.S. Evans in his article "On Humor in Literature" gives a hint of the
evolutionary process of its mechanism and its higher refinement:

    On the lower plane of humor you get a laugh by the most
    unimaginative means--merely conceive a recognized humorous
    situation, or bring several things together according to a
    recipe, and the thing is done. Every practised comedian,
    in literature or on the stage, is an adept at it. But the
    creation of character, the expression--in terms of the words
    and actions of men and women--of that "social gesture" which
    is laughter's source, is a much greater thing, for there we
    touch the symbolism which is the soul of art.


The Function of Humor

In an article entitled "Why Do We Laugh?" William McDougall discusses
scientifically the value of laughter:

    Laughter of man presents a problem with which philosophers
    have wrestled in all ages with little success. Man is the only
    animal that laughs. And, if laughter may properly be called an
    instinctive reaction, the instinct of laughter is the only one
    peculiar to the human species....

    We are saved from this multitude of small sympathetic pains
    and depressions by laughter, which, as we have seen, breaks
    up our train of mental activity and prevents our dwelling upon
    the distressing situation, and which also provides an antidote
    to the depressing influence in the form of physiological
    stimulation that raises the blood-pressure and promotes
    the circulation of the blood. This, then, is the biological
    function of laughter, one of the most delicate and beautiful
    of all nature's adjustments. In order that man should reap the
    full benefits of life in the social group, it was necessary
    that his primitive sympathetic tendencies should be strong and
    delicately adjusted. For without this, there could be little
    mutual understanding, and only imperfect cooperation and
    mutual aid in the more serious difficulties and embarrassments
    of life. But, in endowing man with delicately responsive
    sympathetic tendencies, nature rendered him liable to suffer
    a thousand pains and depressions upon a thousand occasions of
    mishap to his fellows, occasions so trivial as to call for no
    effort of support or assistance. Here was a dilemma--whether
    to leave man so little sympathetic that he would be incapable
    of effective social life; or to render him effectively
    sympathetic and leave him subject to the perpetually renewed
    pains of sympathy, which, if not counteracted, would seriously
    depress his vitality and perhaps destroy the species. Nature,
    confronted with this problem, solved it by the invention
    of laughter. She endowed man with the instinct to laugh on
    contemplation of these minor mishaps of his fellow men; and
    so made them occasions of actual benefit to the beholder;
    all those things which, apart from laughter, would have
    been mildly displeasing and depressing, became objects and
    occasions of stimulating beneficial laughter....

    For laughter is no exception to the law of primitive sympathy;
    but rather illustrates it most clearly and familiarly; the
    infectiousness of laughter is notorious and as irresistible
    as the infection of fear itself.... The great laugher is the
    person of delicately responsive sympathetic reactions; and his
    laughter quickly gives place to pity and comforting support,
    if our misfortune waxes more severe. Such persons are in
    little danger of giving offense by their laughter; for we
    detect their ready sympathy and easily laugh with them; they
    teach us to be humorous.

H. Merian Allen in his essay "Little Laughs in History" says "The
relaxation of a full laugh clears the brain, restores fit contact
with one's fellows, and so smoothes the way for the solving of knotty
problems."

Linus W. Kline, Ph.D., further elucidates the psychical office of
humor as follows:

    The psychical function of humor is to delicately cut the
    surface tension of consciousness and disarrange its structure
    that it may begin again from a new and strengthened base. It
    permits our mental forces to reform under cover, as it were,
    while the battle is still on. Then, too, it clarifies the
    field and reveals the strategetic points, or, to change the
    figure, it pulls off the mask and exposes the real man. No
    stimulus, perhaps more mercifully and effectually breaks the
    surface tension of consciousness, thereby conditioning the
    mind for a stronger forward movement, than that of humor. It
    is the one universal dispensary for human kind: a medicine for
    the poor, a tonic for the rich, a recreation for the fatigued
    and a beneficient check to the strenuous. It acts as a shield
    to the reformer, as an entering wedge to the recluse and as a
    decoy for barter and trade.

Humor is as necessary to our mental and spiritual life as are vitamins
to our physical well-being. Ruskin has called our attention to the
tendency of rivers to lean a little to one side, to have "One shingly
shore upon which they can be shallow and foolish and childlike, and
another steep shore under which they can pause and purify themselves
and get their strength of waves fully together for due occasions," and
has likened them to great men who must have one side of their life
for work and another for play. Action and reaction must be balanced:
seriousness and lightness. "Men who work prodigously must play with
equal energy," says one commentator. "Humor is the gift of the deeply
serious man," remarks another. "There have been very few solemn men,
but their solemnity was evidence, not of their gifts, but of their
defects; as a rule greatness is accompanied by the overflow of the
fountain of life in play." "The richly furnished mind overflows
with vitality and deals with ideas and life freely, daringly, often
audaciously."

The function of the catalyst in chemical reactions is to help other
bodies to get on together, but in doing this it only lends its
presence.

    CATALYST. A chemical body which by its presence, is capable
    of inducing chemical changes in other bodies while itself
    remaining unchanged.

In quite the same way humor, by its mere presence, serves to smooth
the way in all human relations. It contributes a socializing touch.
"Humor makes the whole world akin."


Importance of Humor

Not only the toastmaster needs to have a sense of humor and a
collection of funny stories, and not only the preacher, the public
speaker and entertainer, but everyone, as well, who must influence
others. The "voice with a smile" wins because behind the voice is a
sense of humor. We have more confidence in those who have a sense
of humor. The following is quoted from a persuasive advertisement
entitled "The Gentle Art of Telling a Humorous Story Well":

    The most successful men and women are those who know how to
    get along with their fellow-beings, who know how to win and
    hold good will. In fact, the biggest problem in business and
    society today is the human problem, the problem of making
    people like you and making people feel kindly towards each
    other.

    And nothing oils the wheels of human relationship so nicely
    as humor. Abraham Lincoln understood this when he saved many
    a critical situation by the introduction of one of his famous
    anecdotes. Humor has its place in serious business life, and
    in social life it is the universal passport to popularity.

The importance of humor in our daily life, often emphasized by
scientists and philosophers, has been well summarized by Justin
McCarthy in an article "Humor as an Element of Success":

    I am strongly of the opinion that the quick and abiding sense
    of humour is a great element of success in every department
    of life. I do not speak merely of success in the more strictly
    artistic fields of human work, but am willing to maintain that
    even in the prosaic and practical concerns of human existence,
    the sense of humour is an exciting and sustaining influence to
    carry a man successfully thru to the full development of his
    capacity and the attainment of his purpose....

    In the stories of great events and great enterprises we are
    constantly told of some heaven-born leader who kept alive,
    thru the most trying hours of what otherwise might have been
    utter and enfeebling depression, the energies, the courage and
    the hope of his comrades and his followers.

During thousands of years nature has developed in the human body many
"safety first" signal systems. For example, when the body becomes
chilled this signal system causes us to shiver and tickles the throat
making us cough and in this way thru exercise stimulates the blood
circulation.

Perhaps in ages to come nature will find a way to tickle our sense
of humor when we are angry, discouraged, or otherwise mentally
discomfitted and will thus help us thru laughter to throw off the soul
chill and to regain spiritual poise.






MORE TOASTS




ABSENT-MINDEDNESS


This story is told of an absent-minded professor at Drew Theological
Seminary. One evening while studying he had need of a book-mark.
Seeing nothing else handy, he used his wife's scissors, which lay on
the sewing-table. A few minutes later the wife wanted the scissors,
but a diligent search failed to reveal them.

The next day the professor appeared before his class and opened his
book. There lay the scissors. He picked them up and, holding them
above his head, shouted:

"Here they are, dear!"

Yes, the class got it.


Deep in a ponderous calculation, the professor leaned over his desk.
One hand held his massive brow; the other guided the pencil.

Suddenly the library door was flung open, and a nurse entered, smiling
broadly.

"There's a little stranger upstairs, professor," she announced, of
course referring to the very latest arrival.

"Eh?" grunted the man of learning, poring deeply over his problem.

"It's a little boy," remarked the nurse, still smiling.

"Little boy," mused the professor. "Little boy-eh? Well ask him what
he wants."


A story is current concerning a professor who is reputed to be
slightly absent-minded. The learned man had arranged to escort his
wife one evening to the theater. "I don't like the tie you have on. I
wish you would go up and put on another," said his wife.

The professor tranquilly obeyed. Moment after moment elapsed, until
finally the impatient wife went upstairs to learn the cause of the
delay. In his room she found her husband undressed and getting into
bed.


"How will you have your roast beef?" asked the waiter.

"Well done, good and faithful servant," murmured the clerical-looking
diner absent-mindedly.

_See also_ Habit; Memory.




ACCIDENTS


Hearing a crash of glassware one morning, Mrs. Blank called to her
maid in the adjoining room, "Norah, what on earth are you doing?"

"I ain't doin' nothin', mum," replied Norah; "it's done."


A big Irishman, while carrying a ladder through a crowded street
had the misfortune to break a plate-glass window in a store. He
immediately dropped his ladder and broke into a run, but he had been
seen by the shopkeeper, who dashed after him in company with several
salesmen, and was soon caught.

"Here you big loafer!" shouted the angry shopkeeper, when he had
regained his breath. "You have broken my window!"

"I sure have," admitted the Celt, "and didn't you see me running home
to get the money to pay for it?"


  There was a man who fancied that by driving good and fast
  He'd get his car across the track before the train came past;
  He'd miss the engine by an inch, and make the train-hands sore.
  There was a man who fancied this; there isn't any more.




ACCURACY


In one of the industrial towns in South Wales a workman met with a
serious accident. The doctor was sent for, and came and examined
him, had him bandaged and carried home on a stretcher, seemingly
unconscious.

After he was put to bed the doctor told his wife to give him
sixpennyworth of brandy when he came to himself. After the doctor had
left the wife told the daughter to run and fetch threepennyworth of
brandy for her father.

The old chap opened his eyes and said, in a loud voice: "Sixpenn'orth,
the doctor said."


An editor had a notice stuck up above his desk on which was printed:
"Accuracy! Accuracy! Accuracy!" and this notice he always pointed out
to the new reporters.

One day the youngest member of the staff came in with his report of a
public meeting. The editor read it through and came to the sentence:
"Three thousand nine hundred ninety-nine eyes were fixed upon the
speaker."

"What do you mean by making a silly blunder like that?" he demanded,
wrathfully.

"But it's not a blunder," protested the youngster. "There was a
one-eyed man in the audience!"





ACTORS AND ACTRESSES


FIRST ACTRESS (behind the scenes)--"Did you hear the way the public
wept during my death scene?"

SECOND ACTRESS--"Yes, it must have been because they realized that it
was only acted!"


"These love scenes are rotten. Can't the leading man act as if he were
in love with the star?"

"Can't act at all," said the director. "Trouble is, he is in love with
her."


The teacher was giving the class a natural history lecture on
Australia. "There is one animal," she said, "none of you have
mentioned. It does not stand up on its legs all the time. It does not
walk like other animals, but takes funny little skips. What is it?"
And the class yelled with one voice, "Charlie Chaplin!"


Eight-year-old Robert had been ill for nearly a month with tonsilitis,
and nothing kept him contented but pictures of his favorite, Charlie
Chaplin, clipped from the pages of the motion-picture pictorials.

One morning, as his mother sat beside his bed, he studied earnestly a
full-page drawing of the million-dollar comedian.

"Mother," he asked, "will Charlie Chaplin go to heaven?"

"Why, yes--I hope so," answered the somewhat astonished parent.

"Gee! won't the Lord have some fun then!" was Robert's comment.


Sweeping his long hair back with an impressive gesture the visitor
faced the proprietor of the film studio. "I would like to secure a
place in your moving-picture company," he said.

"You are an actor?" asked the film man.

"Yes."

"Had any experience acting without audiences?"

A flicker of sadness shone in the visitor's eyes as he replied:

"Acting without audiences is what brought me here!"


It was a death-bed scene, but the director was not satisfied with the
hero's acting.

"Come on!" he cried. "Put more life in your dying!"


"Pa, what's an actor?"

"An actor, my boy, is a person who can walk to the side of a stage,
peer into the wings at a group of other actors waiting for their cues,
a number of bored stage hands and a lot of theatrical odds and ends
and exclaim, 'What a lovely view there is from this window!'"


"There were two actresses in an early play of mine," said an author,
"both very beautiful; but the leading actress was thin. She quarreled
one day at rehearsal with the other lady, and she ended the quarrel by
saying, haughtily: 'Remember, please, that I am the star.'

"'Yes, I know you're the star,' the other retorted, eyeing with an
amused smile the leading actress's long, slim figure, 'but you'd look
better, my dear, if you were a little meteor!'"


INTERVIEWER--"What is your wife's favorite dish?"

HUSBAND OF FAMOUS MOVIE ACTRESS--"In the magazines it is peach-bloom
fudge-cake with orangewisp salad, but at home it is tripe and
cabbage."--_Puck_.


The actress stood before her mirror, in doublet and hose, and regarded
her thin legs anxiously.

"I'm not exactly a poem," said she, "but I may pass for heroic verse."




ADVERTISING


_The Question is How Much More?_

TO RENT--In private home, a large, handsomely furnished front room;
also a medium-sized one; every convenience; centrally and very
choicely located; rent more than reasonable. Address, etc.--


Advertising is the test of integrity; the proof of integrity;
that transmits an ever-increasing confidence to both producer and
purchaser.


"I won't pay one cent for my advertising this week," declared the
store-keeper angrily to the editor of the country paper. "You told me
you'd put the notice of my shoe-polish in with the reading-matter."

"And didn't I do it?" inquired the editor.

"No, sir!" roared the advertiser. "No, sir, you did not! You put it in
the column with a mess of poetry, that's where you put it!"


"Paw, what is an advertisement?"

"An advertisement is the picture of a pretty girl eating, wearing,
holding or driving something that somebody wants to sell."


A violinist was bitterly disappointed with the account of his recital
printed in the paper of a small town.

"I told your man three or four times," complained the musician to
the owner of the paper, "that the instrument I used was a genuine
Stradivarius, and in his story there was not a word about it, not a
word."

Whereupon the owner said with a laugh:

"That is as it should be. When Mr. Stradivarius gets his fiddles
advertised in my paper under ten cents a line, you come around and let
me know."


"Oh, we called about the flat advertised."

"Well, I did mean to let it, but since I've read the house-agent's
description of it, I really feel I can't part with it."


CLASSIFIED AD MANAGER--"Your advertisement begins: 'Wanted: Silent
Partner.'"

ADVERTISER--"Yes, that's right."

CLASSIFIED AD MANAGER--"Do you want this placed under Business
Opportunities or Matrimony?"


"Say, Jim," said the friend of the taxicab-driver, standing in front
of the vehicle, "there's a purse lying on the floor of your car."

The driver looked carefully around and then whispered: "Sometimes when
business is bad I put it there and leave the door open. It's empty,
but you've no idea how many people'll jump in for a short drive when
they see it."


Recently the L. P. Ross Shoe Company inserted an advertisement in a
Rochester paper for vampers and closers-up. Among the answers received
was one from a young lady who signed herself Miss Mabelle Jones and
gave her address as General Delivery, Rochester. The letter said in
part:

"_Gentlemen_: I have seen your ad for vampires and close-ups and I
would like the job. I have been studying to vamp for several years and
have been practising eye work for a long while. My gentlemen friends
tell me that I have the other movie vamps backed off the map. I
have made a particular study of Theda Bara. I don't know much about
close-ups, but suppose I could learn. I have a good form, swell brown
eyes, and a fine complexion."

"If you would like, I will call and show you what I can do. I have
been looking for a vampire job, but never saw no ads in the papers
before."
                                "Yours,"
                                         "MABELLE JONES."

"P. S.--Do you furnish clothes for your vampires? I have just come to
Rochester and so I haven't got many clothes."--_Rochester Herald_.


             _His Little Ad_

  There was a man in our town
    And he was wondrous wise;
  He swore (it was his policy)
    He would not advertise.
  But one day he did advertise,
    And thereby hangs a tail,
  The "ad" was set in quite small type,
    And headed "Sheriff's Sale."


Burton Holmes, the lecturer, had an interesting experience, while in
London. He told some Washington friends a day or two ago that when he
visited the theater where he was to deliver his travelogue he decided
that the entrance to the theater was rather dingy and that there
should be more display of his attraction.

Accordingly, he suggested to the manager of the house that the front
be brightened up at night by electrical signs, one row of lights
spelling his name "Burton" and another row of lights spelling the name
"Holmes."

The manager told him it was too much of an innovation for him to
authorize and referred him to the owner of the theater. Mr. Holmes
traveled several hours into the country to consult with the owner,
who referred him to his agent in the city. The agent in turn sent Mr.
Holmes to the janitor of the theater.

"I talked with the janitor and explained my plan to him for about an
hour," Mr. Holmes said. "Finally, after we had gone into every detail
of the cost and everything else, the janitor told me that the theater
was a very exclusive and high class theater, and that he would not put
up the sign. I asked him why?"

"Because it would attract too much attention to the theater," the
janitor replied.


"What's your time?" asked the old farmer of the brisk salesman.
"Twenty minutes after five. What can I do for you?" "I want them
pants," said the old farmer, leading the way to the window and
pointing to a ticket marked, "Given away at 5.20."

_See also_ Authorship; Beauty, Personal; Salesmen and salesmanship.




ADVICE


The most unfair person is the one who asks you for advice and doesn't
let you know what advice he wants.


Another thing that we sometimes take when nobody's looking is advice.


It is a good divine that follows his own instructions: I can easier
teach twenty what were good to be done, than be one of the twenty to
follow mine own teaching.--_Shakespeare_.


Advice is the most worthless commodity in the world. Those who might
profit by it don't need it, and those who do need it won't profit by
it--if they could, they wouldn't need it.


  How often have my kindly friends,
    (When Fate has dealt me some shrewd blow),
  Recalling random odds and ends
    Of counsel, cried: "I told you so!"

  But when 'twas I who warned, and they
    Who heeded not, and came to woe,
  I wonder why they'd never say:
    "That's right, old chap, you told me so!"




AFTER DINNER SPEECHES


             _Recipe for an After-dinner Speech_

  Three long breaths.
  Compliment to the audience.
  Funny Story.
  Outline of what speaker is _not_ going to say.
  Points that he will touch on later.
  Two Bartlett's Familiar Quotations.
  Outline of what speaker _is_ going to say.
  Points that he has not time to touch on now.
  Reference to what he said first.
  Funny Story.
  Compliment to the audience.
  Ditto to our City, State and Country.
  Applause.

N. B. For an oration, use same formula, repeating each sentence three
times in slightly different words.--_Mary Eleanor Roberts_.


"You wrote this report of last night's banquet, did you?" asked the
editor with the copy in his hand.

"Yes, sir," replied the reporter.

"And this expression, 'The banquet-table groaned'--do you think that
is proper?"

"Oh, yes, sir. The funny stories the after-dinner speakers told would
make any table groan."


_See also_ Politicians; Public speakers.




AGE


HE--"How old are you?"

SHE--"I've just turned twenty-three."

HE--"Oh, I see--thirty-two."


A judge asked a woman her age.

"Thirty," she replied.

"You've given that age in this court for the last three years."

"Yes. I'm not one of those who says one thing today and another thing
tomorrow."


"Willie," said his mother. "I wish you would run across the street and
see how old Mrs. Brown is this morning."

"Yes'm," replied Willie, and a few minutes later he returned and
reported:

"Mrs. Brown says it's none of your business how old she is."


"Well, auntie, have you got your photographs yet?"

"Yes, and I sent them back in disgust."

"Gracious! How was that?"

"Why, on the back of every photo was written this, 'The original of
this is carefully preserved.'"


Answering the question, "When is a woman old?" a famous tragedienne
wrote: "The conceited never; the unhappy too soon, and the wise at the
right time."


When saving for your old age, don't neglect to lay up a few pleasant
thoughts.


"To what do you attribute your long life, Uncle Mose?" asked a
newspaper interviewer of a colored centenarian.

"Becuz Ah was bo'n a long time back," the old gentleman replied.


MURIEL--"I don't intend to be married until after I'm thirty."

MABEL--"And I don't intend to be thirty until after I'm
married!"--_Life_.


  My first gray hair!
  I never knew that you were there,
  Nor least expected you would come so soon--
  But you are there;
  From whence you came or where
  I know not, but I care.

  You make me stop and wonder
  Why I find you there to-night,
  Is it some worry or some fright
  That leaves you colorless, and oh, so white?
  You'll not be seen, oh, no, not yet.
  On that your fondest curls you bet,
  For just as long as you are there
  I'll hide you very neatly--there!
  And none will wonder--only I, at you--
  My first gray hair.

  --_Wells Hawks_.


One great advantage of really being old is that one is beyond being
told he is getting old.


_Twenty-One Plus_

FIRST SUFFRAGIST--"How old do you think Mabel is?"

SECOND SUFFRAGIST--"Well, I should say she had lost about seventeen
votes."


A maiden lady of uncertain age became very indignant when the census
taker asked how old she was. "Did you see the girls next door," she
asked--"The Hill twins?"

"Certainly," replied the census man.

"And did they tell you their age?"

"Yes."

"Well," she snapped, "I'm just as old as they are."

"Oh, very well," said the census man; and he wrote in his book, "Sarah
Stokes, as old as the Hills."


  I remember, I remember,
    The fir trees dark and high;
  I used to think their slender tops
    Were close against the sky;
  It was a childish ignorance,
    But now 'tis little joy
  To know I'm farther off from heaven
    Than when I was a boy.


PHYSICIAN--"Tell your wife not to worry about that slight deafness, as
it is merely an indication of advancing years."

MR. MEEK--"Doctor would you mind telling her yourself?"


"Ma, is Mr. Jones an awfully old man?"

"No, dear, I don't believe so. What makes you ask?"

"Well, I think he must be, because I heard Pa say last night that Mr.
Jones raised his ante."




AGRICULTURE


"Crop failures?" asked the old timer.

"Yes, I've seen a few in my day. In 1854 the corn crop was almost
nothing. We cooked some for dinner, and my father ate fourteen acres
of corn at one meal!"--_Life_.

_See also_ Farming; Laws.




ALARM CLOCKS


  To-day I bought an alarm-clock,
    It has a very loud ring.
  I think I will call it the Star-Spangled Banner,
    For every time I hear it I have to get up.


A Swede was working for a farmer, who demanded punctuality above
everything else. The farmer told him that he must be at work every
morning at 4 o'clock sharp. The "hand" failed to get up in time, and
the farmer threatened to discharge him. Then the "hand" bought an
alarm-clock, and for some time everything went along smoothly. But
one morning he got to the field fifteen minutes late. The farmer
immediately discharged him, in spite of his protestations that his
alarm-clock was to blame.

Sadly returning to his room, the discharged employee determined to
find out the cause of his downfall. He took the alarm-clock to pieces,
and discovered a dead cockroach among the works.

"Well," he soliloquized, "Ay tank it bane no wonder the clock wouldn't
run--the engineer bane daid."


"I heard something this morning that opened my eyes."

"So did I--an alarm clock."


"Have you any alarm-clocks?" inquired the customer. "What I want is
one that will arouse the girl without waking the whole family."

"I don't know of any such alarm-clock as that, madam," said the man
behind the counter; "we keep just the ordinary kind--the kind that
will wake the whole family without disturbing the girl."


_See also_ Philadelphia; Tardiness.




ALIBI


TEACHER--"What is an alibi?"

BRIGHT Boy--"Being somewhere where you ain't."




ALIMONY


_Or Go to Jail_

"Is there any way a man can avoid paying alimony?" asked the Friend
who was seeking free advice.

"Sure," replied the Lawyer. "He can stay single or stay married."




ALPHABET


MOTHER (who is teaching her child the alphabet)--"Now, dearie, what
comes after 'g'?"

THE CHILD--"Whiz!"--_Judge_.




ALTERNATIVES


_See_ Choices.




AMBITION


Every normal man has two great ambitions. First, to own his home.
Second, to own a car to get away from his home.


Ambition makes the same mistake concerning power that avarice makes
concerning wealth. She begins by accumulating power as a means to
happiness, and she finishes by continuing to accumulate it as an
end.--_Colton_.


To wish is of little account; to succeed thou must earnestly desire;
and this desire must shorten thy sleep.--_Ovid_.


The noblest spirit is most strongly attracted by the love of
glory.--_Cicero_.


When once ambition has passed its natural limits, its progress is
boundless.--_Seneca_.




AMERICANS


A French magazine claims to have discovered in a New York paper an
advertisement to this effect: "A gentleman who has lost his right leg
is desirous of making the acquaintance of some one who has lost his
left leg, in order to become associated with him in the purchase
of boots and shoes, size 8." The very observant French editor very
politely comments: "An American may occasionally lose a leg, but he
never loses his head."


"That's the Goddess of Liberty," explained the New Yorker. "Fine
attitude, eh?"

"Yes, and typically American," replied the Western visitor. "Hanging
to a strap."


"William," asked the teacher of a rosy-faced lad, "can you tell me who
George Washington was?"

"Yes, ma'am," was the quick reply. "He was an American gen'ral."

"Quite right," replied the teacher. "And can you tell us what George
Washington was remarkable for?"

"Yes, ma'am," replied the little boy. "He was remarkable because he
was an American and told the truth."


A party of tourists were looking at Vesuvius in full eruption. "Ain't
this just like hell!" exclaimed an American. "Ah, the Americans," said
a Frenchman standing by, "Where have they not been?"




AMUSEMENTS


It was a sweet, sad play, and there was hardly a dry handkerchief in
the house. But one man in the first balcony irritated his neighbors
excessively by refusing to take the performance in the proper spirit.
Instead of weeping, he laughed. While others were mopping their eyes
and endeavoring to stifle their sobs, his face beamed with merriment
and he burst into inappropriate guffaws.

At last a lady by his side turned upon him indignantly.

"I d-don't know what brought y-you here," she sobbed, with streaming
eyes, and pressing her hand against her aching heart; "but if y-you
don't like the p-play you might l-let other p-people enjoy it!"




ANCESTRY


HAMPTON--"Dinwiddow told me his family is a very old one. They were
one of the first to come across."

RHODES--"The grocer told me yesterday that now they are the last to
come across."--_Judge_.


"Pa, what are ancestors?"

"Well, my son, I'm one of yours. Your grandpa is another."

"Oh! Then why is it people brag about them?"


HE--"My ancestors came over in the _Mayflower_."

SHE--"It's lucky they did; the immigration laws are a little stricter
now."




ANIMALS


It was Robert's first visit to the Zoo.

"What do you think of the animals?" inquired Uncle Ben.

After a critical inspection of the exhibit the boy replied: "I think
the kangaroo and the elephant should change tails."




ANTICIPATION


"Mr. Blinks," said she, "do you think that anticipation is greater
than realization?"

"Well," replied Mr. Blinks, "anticipation is broader and higher, but
realization is longer and flatter."




ANTIQUES


"Gee, whiz! Isn't that Smithson who just went by in his automobile?
When I knew him a few years ago he had a junk-shop."

"He still has. Only he moved in to a fashionable street and labeled
the same stock 'Antiques.'"


CUSTOMER--"What! Five hundred dollars for that antique? Why, I priced
it last week and you said three hundred and fifty."

DEALER--"Yes, I know; but the cost of labor and materials has gone up
so!"


AD WRITER--"When do you want me to prepare that copy for the sale of
antiques you have been planning?"

BOSS--"We'll have to hold back on those awhile. The wormhole borers
are on strike in Grand Rapids."




APARTMENTS


MR. LONGSUFFER--"Say, janitor, it's down to zero in my flat."

JANITOR--"Down to zero, is it? That's nothing."


_Necessarily So_

"I wonder if they take children in these apartments."

"They must. Some of the rooms aren't big enough for a grown person."


"How do the Joneses seem to like their little two-room kitchenette
apartment?"

"Oh, they have no room for complaint!"--_Judge_.




APPEARANCES


A man's appearance indicates how his business is prospering, and his
wife's appearance shows how much he is spending.


In civilized society external advantages make us more respected. A man
with a good coat upon his back meets with a better reception than he
who has a bad one. You may analyze this and say, what is there in
it? But that will avail you nothing, for it is a part of a general
system.--_Johnson_.


A miser grows rich by seeming poor; an extravagant man grows poor by
seeming rich.--_Shenstone_.


Polished brass will pass upon more people than rough gold.
--_Chesterfield_.


In all professions every one affects a particular look and exterior,
in order to appear what he wishes to be thought; so that it may be
said the world's made up of appearances.--_La Rochefoucauld_.




APPETITE


"Josh," said Farmer Corntossel to his son, "I wish, if you don't mind,
you'd eat off to yourself instead of with the summer boarders."

"Isn't my society good enough for them?"

"Your society is fine. But your appetite sets a terrible example."


TEACHER--"You remember the story of Daniel in the lion's den, Robbie?"

ROBBIE--"Yes, ma'am."

TEACHER--"What lesson do we learn from it?"

ROBBIE--"That we shouldn't eat everything we see."




APPLAUSE


"You don't attach much importance to the applause an orator receives."

"Not much," admitted Senator Sorghum. "There is bound to be applause.
You can't expect an audience to sit still all evening and do
absolutely nothing."


"The train pulled out before you had finished your speech."

"Yes," replied Senator Sorghum. "As I heard the shouts of the crowd
fading in the distance I couldn't be sure whether they were applauding
me or the engineer."


A slowness to applaud betrays a cold temper or an envious
spirit.--_Hannah More_.


The silence that accepts merit as the most natural thing in the world,
is the highest applause.--_Emerson_.




ARITHMETIC


"Waiter," he suggested mildly, "I want three eggs, and boil them four
minutes."

But the cook, having only one in the place, boiled it twelve minutes.

Which proves the value of higher mathematics.


SCHOOL-TEACHER (to little boy)--"If a farmer raises 3,700 bushels of
wheat and sells it for $2.50 per bushel, what will he get?"

LITTLE BOY--"An automobile."


"Now, then, Johnny," said his teacher, "if your father gave you seven
cents and your mother gave you six and your uncle gave you four more,
what would you have?"

Johnny wrinkled up his forehead and went into silence for the space of
several minutes.

"Come, come," said the teacher impatiently. "Surely you can solve a
simple little problem like that."

"It ain't a simple problem at all," replied the boy. "I can't make up
my mind whether I'd have an ice-cream soda or go to the movies."


In Missouri, where they raise more mules and children than in any
other place in the world, a certain resident died possessed of
seventeen mules and three sons. In his will he disposed of the mules
as follows: One-half to the eldest son, one-third to the next, and
one-ninth to the youngest.

The administrator who went to divide the property drove a span of
mules out to the farm, but when he went to divide the seventeen into
halves, thirds, and ninths he found it was impossible with live mules;
mules not being very valuable, he unhitched one of his own, putting it
with the other seventeen, making eighteen, when he proceeded to divide
as follows: One-half, or nine to the eldest, one third, or six, to the
next son, and one-ninth, or two, to the youngest. Adding up nine, six,
two, he found that it made seventeen, so he hitched up his mule and
went home rejoicing.--_Ladies Home Journal_.


"Now, Harold," said the teacher, "if there were eleven sheep in a
field and six jumped the fence how many would there be left?"

"None," replied Harold.

"Why, but there would," said she.

"No, ma'am, there wouldn't," persisted he. "You may know arithmetic,
but you don't know sheep."


One day, as Pat halted at the top of the river-bank, a man famous for
his inquisitive mind stopped and asked:

"How long have you hauled water for the village, my good man?"

"Tin years, sor."

"Ah, how many loads do you take in a day?"

"From tin to fifteen, sor."

"Ah, yes! Now I have a problem for you. How much water at this rate
have you hauled in all?"

The driver of the watering-cart jerked his thumb backward toward the
river and replied:

"All the water yez don't see there now, sor."




ARMIES


A sentry was giving close attention to his post in the neighborhood of
a British army camp in England, challenging returning stragglers late
after dark. The following is reported as an incident to his vigil:

"Who goes there?" called the sentry at the sound of approaching
footsteps.

"Coldstream Guards!" was the response.

"Pass, Coldstream Guards!" rejoined the sentry.

"Who goes there?" again challenged the sentry.

"Forty-ninth Highlanders!" returned the unseen pedestrian.

"Pass, Forty-ninth Highlanders!"

"Who goes there?" sounded a third challenge.

"None of your d--n business!" was the husky reply.

"Pass, Canadians!" acquiesced the sentry.


            _Things in the Army that_

        _Increase_                _Decrease_
  Your appetite.               Your surplus fat.
  Your respect for the flag.   Your self-conceit.
  Your love for your mother.   Your fastidiousness.
  Your promptness.             Your selfishness.
  Your democracy.              Your carelessness.
  Your feet.                   Your finances.


A few soldiers belonging to part of a Swiss regiment in garrison at
Basel went to a certain cafe for refreshments. One of them sat down
alone at a table. Later a civilian, a German, joined him and the two
began to talk war politics. "Would you shoot on the Germans if they
invaded Switzerland?" asked the German.

"Oh, no, never!" exclaimed the soldier.

"Waiter, a pint of beer and a beefsteak with potatoes for this brave
man," ordered the civilian.

"And your pals sitting at the next table--would they also not shoot
the Germans if they tried to invade this country?"

"Oh, no, never," retorted the Swiss.

"Waiter, a glass of beer for each of the soldiers at the next table!"
ordered the civilian.

And addressing again the soldier, he asked: "Is this generally the
view held in the Swiss Army in regard to a possible German invasion?
Are all the Swiss soldiers so Germanophil?"

"I don't know," replied the soldier.

"But why would you not shoot the Germans?"

"Because we belong to the band."


OFFICER (to private)--"What are you doing down in that shell-hole?
Didn't you hear me say we were out against four to one?"

GEORDIE (a trade-unionist)--"Ay. Aa heard you; but aa've killed ma
fower."--_Punch_.


"The army must be a terrible place," said Aunt Samanthy, looking up
from the evening paper.

"What makes you think so, Samanthy?" asked her dutiful spouse.

"Why, jest think what it must be where beds is bunk and meals is a
mess."


Said the colored lad as he was being mustered out, on being asked
what train he was going to take for home: "Boss, I ain't gonna take
no train. I lives two hundred miles away, and I'se gonna run the first
eighteen, just to make sure they don't change their minds befo' I
leave camp."


A factory foreman who had some 300 hands under him went into the army,
became a captain of a company and could not get into the habit of
calling his soldiers men, but invariably referred to them as my
"hands." Imagine, therefore, the surprise of his commanding officer
when the captain turned in a report of an engagement, in which he
said he "had the very good fortune to have only one of my 'hands' shot
through the nose."


"Were you happy when you started for France?"

"Happy? We were in transports."


_See also_ Conscription; Military discipline.




ART AND ARTISTS


HENRY--"He may be a great artist, but he has a peculiar way of doing
things."

HAPPY--"How's that?"

HENRY--"He says he painted his greatest masterpiece on an empty
stomach."


_Impressionistic_

Whistler once undertook to get a fellow artist's work into the autumn
salon. He succeeded, and the picture was hung. But the painter, going
to see his masterpiece with Whistler on varnishing day, uttered an
exclamation of dismay.

"Good Heavens!" he cried, "you're exhibiting my picture upside down."

"Hush!" said Whistler. "The committee refused it the other way."


"If you do good work, your work will grow after you are gone."

"That's a fact. Rubens left only some 2,000 pictures, but there are
10,000 of his pictures in circulation now."


"Luxurious tastes Richleigh has. He has a Corot in his office."

"That's nothing! I have a whistler in mine."


Two ladies, each with her child, visited the Chicago Art Museum. As
they passed the "Winged Victory" the little boy exclaimed: "Huh! She
ain't got no head." "Sh!" the horrified little girl replied, "That's
art; she don't need none!"


One of those country gentlemen who owns a farm in Brown County, but
lives in Indianapolis and only spends his weekends on the farm, asked
one of his neighbors down in Brown county: "Did you know that T. C.
Steele sold the picture that he painted on your farm?" The farmer made
no reply to this, and then the country gentleman told him the price
Mr. Steele got for the canvas. "I just wish I had known the feller
liked the place well enough to pay that for a picture of it," the
farmer said. "I'd a' sold him the farm for $200 less than that."


ARTIST--"Now, here's a picture--one of my best, too--I've just
finished. When I started out I had no idea what it was going to be."

FRIEND--"After you got through, how did you find out what it was?"


Bessie is a bright one. The other day her teacher set her and her
schoolmates to drawing, letting them choose their own subjects. After
the teacher had examined what the other children had drawn, she took
up Bessie's sheet.

"Why, what's this?" she said. "You haven't drawn anything at all,
child."

"Please, teacher, yes, I have," returned Bessie. "It's a war-picture-a
long line of ammunition-wagons at the front. You can't see 'em 'cause
they're camouflaged."


"Mark Twain was visiting H.H. Rogers," said a New York editor. "Mr.
Rogers led the humorist into his library.

"'There,' he said as he pointed to a bust of white marble. 'What do
you think of that?' It was a bust of a young woman coiling her hair-a
graceful example of Italian sculpture. Mr. Clemens looked and then he
said:

"'It isn't true to nature."

"'Why not?' Mr. Rogers asked.

"'She ought to have her mouth full of hairpins,' said the humorist."

_See also_ Futurist art.




ASTRONOMY


FINNEGAN--"Oh, yis, Oi can undershtand how thim astronomers can
calkilate th' distance av a shtarr, its weight, and dinsity and color
and all thot--but th' thing thot gets me is, how th' divvle do they
know its _name_."


  I think the stars do nod at me,
    But not when people are about;
  For they regard me curiously
    Whenever I go out.

  Brothers, what is it ye mean,
    What is it ye try to say.
  That so earnestly ye lean
    From the spirit to the clay?

  I may have been a star one day,
    One of the rebel host that fell,
  And they are nodding down to say.
    Come back to us from hell.




AUTHORS


A clever author is one who never asks what they are saying when he is
told that everybody is talking about his latest book.


The wife of a successful young literary man had hired a buxom Dutch
girl to do the housework. Several weeks passed and from seeing her
master constantly about the house, the girl received an erroneous
impression.

"Ogscuse me, Mrs. Blank," she said to her mistress one day, "but I
like to say somedings."

"Well, Rena?"

The girl blushed, fumbled with her apron, and then replied, "Veil, you
pay me four tollars a veek--"

"Yes, and I really can't pay you any more."

"It's not dot," responded the girl; "but I be villing to take tree
tollars till--till your husband gets vork."


Kate Douglas Wiggin's choicest possession, she says, is a letter
which she once received from the superintendent of a home for the
feeble-minded. He spoke in glowing terms of the pleasure with which
the "inmates" had read her little book, "Marm Lisa," and ended thus
superbly:

"In fact, madam, I think I may safely say that you are the favorite
author of the feeble-minded!"


Harold Jenks, a syndicate editor of Denver, was talking about the low
rates paid by the magazines.

"They who write for newspaper syndicates, where their work appears
simultaneously in forty or fifty newspapers all over the country,"
said Mr. Jenks, "make a good deal of money. Of course, the magazine
writer, beside such men, isn't one, two, three.

"A seedy magazine writer dropped in on me this morning to borrow a
quarter. As he left, he said:

"'Jenks, old man, the difference between a hen and a magazine writer
is this--while they both scratch for a living, the hen gets hers.'"


_Consolation_

"How did your novel come out?"

"Well," replied the self-confident man, "it proved beyond all doubt
that it isn't one of these trashy best-sellers."


The late Ambassador Walter Hines Page was formerly editor of The
World's Work and, like all editors, was obliged to refuse a great many
stories. A lady once wrote him:

"_Sir_: you sent back last week a story of mine. I know that you did
not read the story, for as a test I had pasted together pages 18, 19,
and 20, and the story came back with these pages still pasted; and so
I know you are a fraud and turn down stories without reading same."

Mr. Page wrote back:

"_Madame_: At breakfast when I open an egg I don't have to eat the
whole egg to discover it is bad."


The great novelist summoned his publisher to his luxurious home.

"Have your salesmen," he asked, "prepared for their semi-annual trip
among the down-trodden booksellers?"

"They have."

"Has your publicity man written the usual biographical notices and
arranged for a series of dinners in my honor?"

"He has."

"Have your great minds selected a title for my forthcoming work?"

"Indeed, yes."

"Then what do you want me to write about?"

The publisher drew from his pocket a paper.

"Here is a wonderful plot," he replied. "It has every element--maudlin
sentiment, mystery, touches of your characteristic humor, profound
insight--everything."

The great author was conservative. He had had experience.

"I haven't time to read it just now," he said. "But are you sure? How
do you know that it is any good?"

"Good!" exclaimed the publisher. "Of course it is good. Why, my dear
sir, it has met with the unqualified approval of every member of our
motion-picture department."


THE PUBLISHER--"How are you going to introduce accurate local color in
your new story of life in Thibet? You've never been there."

THE EMINENT AUTHOR--"Neither has any of my public."--_Judge_.


"So you got your poem printed?"

"Yes," replied the author. "I sent the first stanza to the editor of
the Correspondence Column with the inquiry, 'Can anyone give me the
rest of this poem?' Then I sent in the complete poem over another
name!"


"Ye think a fine lot of Shakespeare?"

"I do, sir," was the reply.

"An' ye think he was mair clever than Rabbie Burns?"

"Why, there's no comparison between them."

"Maybe, no; but ye tell us it was Shakespeare who wrote 'Uneasy lies
the head that wears a crown.' Now, Rabbie would never hae sic nonsense
as that."

"Nonsense, sir!" thundered the other.

"Ay, just nonsense. Rabbie would hae kent fine that a king or queen
either disna ganga to bed wi' a croon on their head. He'd hae kent
they hang it over the back o' a chair."


HOSTESS--"I sometimes wonder, Mr. Highbrow, if there is anything
vainer than you authors about the things you write."

HIGHBROW--"There is, madam; our efforts to sell them."


"No," said the honest man, "I was never strong at literature. To save
my life I could not tell you who wrote 'Gray's Elegy.'"


HENLEY--"How are you getting on with your writing for the magazines?"

PENLEY--"Just holding my own. They send me back as much as I send
them."


Wouldn't it be pleasant if so many authors didn't:

Let their characters converse for hours without any identification
tags, so that you have to turn back three pages and number off odd
speeches in order to find out who's talking.

Overwork the "smart" atmosphere, the suspension points and the
seasonal epidemics of such words as "gripping," "virile," "intrigue,"
"gesture," etc.

Stick up a periscope every now and then, like, "Little did he think
how dearly this trifling error was to cost him," or "She was to meet
this man again, under strange circumstances."

Apply a large hunk of propaganda, like an ice bag, just where the plot
ought to rush ahead.


EDITOR--"Historically, this story is incorrect."

AUTHOR--"But hysterically it is one of the best things I have ever
done."


A man who was a great admirer of Mark Twain was visiting in Hannibal,
Mo. He asked the darkey who was driving him about if he knew where
Huckleberry Finn lived. "No sah, I never heard of the gemmen." Then
he said "Then perhaps you knew Tom Sawyer?" "No, sah, I never met the
gemmen." "But surely you have heard of Puddin'head Wilson?" "Yes, sah,
I've never met him, but I've voted for him twice."




AUTHORSHIP


TED--"I was tempted to read his book by the advertisements, but I was
disappointed."

NED--"That's only natural. The advertisements are better written than
the book."




AUTOMOBILE TOURISTS


"Why do you turn out for every road hog that comes along?" said the
missus, rather crossly. "The right of way is ours, isn't it?"

"Oh, undoubtedly!" answered he, calmly. "As for our turning out,
the reason is plainly suggested in this epitaph which appeared in a
newspaper recently:

  "Here lies the body of William Jay,
    Who died maintaining his right of way;
  He was right, dead right, as he sped along,
    But he's just as dead as if he'd been wrong."


A motorist had been haled into court, and when his name was called the
judge asked what the charges were against the prisoner.

"Suspicious actions, your Honor," answered the policeman who had made
the arrest.

"Suspicious actions?" queried his Honor "What was he doing that seemed
suspicious?"

"Well," replied the officer, "he was running within the speed limit,
sounding his horn properly, and trying to keep on the right side of
the street, so I arrested him."


"What kind of a time is he having on his motor-trip?"

"Guess he's having a pretty lively time. He sent me a picture
post-card of a hospital."


A tourist was just emerging from a corn-field by the roadside, bearing
in his arms a dozen handsome roasting ears. A second car approached
and stopped, whereon the tourist reached for his pocketbook and asked
in an embarrassed manner, "How much?"

"One dollar," said the newcomer, and then, after receiving payment,
remarked, "This is a fine field of corn. Wonder who it belongs to?"




AUTOMOBILES AND AUTOMOBILING


"Has this car got a speedometer?" asked an old gentleman to the
auctioneer, at one of the Disposal Board sales. The auctioneer
was equal to the occasion and replied: "At thirty miles an hour it
exhibits a white flag, at forty miles a red flag, and at fifty miles
a gramophone begins to play, 'I'm going to be an angel, and with the
angels dwell'"


"Remember, son, Garfield drove mules on a tow-path and Lincoln split
rails."

"I know, dad; but say, did any of these Presidents ever crank a cold
motor in a blizzard for half an hour before he discovered that he
didn't have any gasoline?"


The time to buy a used car is just before you move, so people in the
new neighborhood will think you were the one who used it.

"I understand that you have a new motor-car."

"Yes."

"Do you drive it yourself?"

"Nobody drives it. We coax it."


"We deny ourselves much. I am saving to build a house."

"Is your wife cheerful about it?"

"Oh, yes. She thinks we're saving for an automobile."


SHE--"Tell me, is an F.O.B. Detroit a reliable car?"


"I have never owned any automobiles," said the man who hadn't yet paid
for his home, "but I can say one thing in praise of them."

"What is that?" inquired Henderson.

"They have made mortgages respectable."--_Judge_.


"I see Smith is building a garage. When did he get a car?"

"He hasn't got one yet, but he's got an option on ten gallons of
gasoline."


An irate customer complained to her butcher about finding pieces of
rubber in the sausage meat and demanded an explanation. The butcher
said, "It is only another proof of how the automobile is taking the
place of the horse."


"Hello, old top. New car?"

"No! Old car, new top."


A farmer was recently arguing with a French chauffeur, who had
slackened up at an inn, regarding the merits of the horse and the
motor-car.

"Give me a 'orse," remarked the farmer; "them traveling oil-shops is
too uncertain fer my likin'."

"Eet is prejudice, my friend." the chauffeur replied; "you Engleesh
are behind ze times; you will think deefairent some day."

"Behind the times be blowed!" came the retort; "p'r'aps nex' time the
Proosians are round Paris and you have to git your dinner off a steak
from the 'ind wheel of a motor-car, you Frenshmen'll wish you wasn't
so bloomin' well up-to-date!"


"What does autosuggestion mean?" asked Pringle.

"That's when your wife begins to figure out how much you would save in
car-fare, and all that, if you had your own machine," replied Teggard,
who had been worked just that way.


An automobile show is a place to which car owners go to hear the
exhibitors confirm their judgment.


"I've stopped riding horseback and got a second-hand car."

"Need more exercise?"


"I suppose you think I'm foolish enough to buy that broken-down old
automobile!"

"Broken-down nothing! With the exception of a busted drive-shaft,
a cracked crank-case, a loose steering-wheel, a bum battery, a
dilapidated differential and faulty ignition, it is just as good as
new. Outside of buying four sets of tires, three new springs, a new
top, two rear axles, a couple of batteries, having the valves ground
sixteen times, the clutch tightened every week and the self-starter
repaired now and then, I have never spent one cent for repairs.
The old boat hasn't been run a mile over one hundred thousand, will
average fourteen gallons to the mile, and absolutely will not exceed
twenty-five miles an hour. It has an extra-fine new coat of paint,
and is fully equipped with a hand pump and switch-key. Because of the
difficulty in shifting gears, I absolutely guarantee your wife will
never be able to drive it, and--"

"Never mind the rest. I'll take it!"


"I thought you owned an automobile."

"I do, but I taught the wife to drive it, and now I'm back to the
street-cars."


"Say, Rastus, I done see de funniest thing t'day."

"How come, niggah?"

"I seed an ottermobile with its reah license B--4."

"Say, bo, doan hand me no truck lak that."--_Judge_.


The only trouble with a 60-horse-power motor is that every darned
horse balks at the same time.


BILL--"Just happened to run into an old friend down-town."

PHIL--"Was he glad to see you?"

BILL--"You bet not. I smashed his whole right fender."


"My brother bought a motor here last week," said an angry man to the
salesman that stepped up to greet him, "and he said if anything broke
you would supply him with new parts."

"Certainly," said the salesman. "What does he want?"

"He wants two deltoid muscles, a couple of kneecaps, one elbow, and
about half a yard of cuticle," said the man, "and he wants them at
once."


An elderly lady of very prim and severe aspect was seated next a young
couple, who were discussing the merits of their motor-cars.

"What color is your body?" asked the young man of the girl at his
side, meaning of course, the body of her motor.

"Oh, mine is pink. What is yours?"

"Mine," replied the man, "is brown with wide yellow stripes."

This was too much for the old lady. Rising from the table, she
exclaimed:

"When young people come to asking each other the color of their bodies
at a dinner-party, it is time I left the room."


"Why didn't you stop when I signaled you?" inquired the officer.

"Well," replied Mr. Chuggins, "it had taken me two hours to get this
old flivver started, and it seemed a shame to stop her merely to avoid
a little thing like being arrested."


             _Who Can Tell?_

  Dear Sirs,--About the engine. Well,
  We write to let you know
  We've waded through the booklet on
  "What Makes the Engine Go."
  It took us close on half a day
  To read through all the guff;
  The engine goes all right, but don't
  Keep goin' long enough.
  It's very good to understand
  What makes the engine go.
  But why the deuce the d--- thing stops
  Is what we want to know.
  So now we're making this request,
  While tears and curses drop,
  Please send along a booklet on
  What Makes the Engine Stop.
  The folk around here all await
  With interest your reply:
  To them the reasons why she goes
  Don't seem to signify.
  So while we wait and chew the cud
  Don't let the matter flop;
  For Gawd's sake write and let us know
  What makes the blighter stop.

_See also_ Fords; Garages; Horses; Reputation.




AVIATION


TOMMY (to Aviator)--"What is the most deadly poison known?"

AVIATOR--"Aviation poison."

TOMMY--"How much does it take to kill a person?"

AVIATOR--"One drop!"


ENTHUSIASTIC AVIATOR (after long explanation of principle and workings
of his biplane)--"Now, you understand it, don't you?"

YOUNG LADY--"All but one thing."

AVIATOR--"And that is--?"

YOUNG LADY--"What makes it stay up?"


ENTHUSIAST--"Don't the spectators tire you with the questions they
ask?"

AVIATOR--"Yes. What else do you want to know?"


MANDY--"Rastus, you all knows dat yo' remind me of dem dere flyin'
machines?"

RASTUS--"No, Mandy, how's dat?"

MANDY--"Why becays youse no good on earth."




BACHELORS


It is a safe guess that the man who pokes fun at a woman for shopping
all day and not buying anything isn't married.


MADGE--"You shouldn't say he's a confirmed bachelor unless you know."

MARJORIE--"But I do know; I confirmed him."


It is admitted that married men have better halves but it is claimed
that bachellors generally have better quarters.




BAGGAGE


TOMMY (just off train, with considerable luggage)--"Cabby, how much is
it for me to Latchford?"

CABBY--"Two shillings, sir."

TOMMY--"How much for my luggage?"

CABBY--"Free, sir."

TOMMY--"Take the luggage, I'll walk."




BALDNESS


BALD HEADED GUEST--"Well, sonny, what is it that amuses you?"

YOUNG HOPEFUL--"Nothing; only mother has put a brush and comb in your
bedroom."


SCEPTIC--"If you have such an infallible remedy for baldness, why
don't you use it?"

SUBTLE BARBER (very bald)--"Ah, sir, I sacrifice my appearance to
bring 'ome to clients the 'orror of 'airlessness."--_Punch_.


"That bald-headed man who just went out is the greatest optimist I
ever met," said the druggist.

"That so?" asked the customer.

"Yes," replied the druggist. "When I guaranteed my hair restorer he
bought a bottle, and bought a comb and brush because he felt sure he'd
need them in a few days."


Two traveling men, who had not met in several years, were condoling
with each other on their increasing baldness.

"Well," said Jones, "one comfort is that it's only brain workers who
lose their hair."

"Yes," Smith answered, "only thinkers ever become bald. Isn't that so,
Sam?" appealing to the porter.

"Well, I dunno 'bout dat," the darky replied. "My granddad said dat an
empty bahn doan need no cover."




BANKS AND BANKING


Before the passage of the present strict banking laws in Wisconsin,
starting a bank was a comparatively simple proposition. The
surprizingly small amount of capital needed is well illustrated by the
story a prosperous country-town banker told on himself, when asked how
he happened to enter the banking business:

"Well," he said, "I didn't have much else to do, so I rented an empty
store building and painted BANK on the window. The first day I was
open for business a man came in and deposited a hundred dollars with
me; the second day another man dropped in and deposited two hundred
and fifty; and so, by George, along about the third day I got
confidence enough in the bank to put in a hundred myself!"


A negro bank was opened in a small town in Georgia, and Sam deposited
ten dollars. Several weeks later he returned to draw out his
money. When he presented his check the colored cashier looked at it
doubtfully and said: "Sam, you ain't got any money in dis here bank,
but I'll look on de books an' make sure." In a minute he came back and
said: "Yes, you did have ten dollars; but, nigger, de interes' done
eat up dat money."


"Father," said Nellie, "that bank in which you told me to put my money
is in a bad way."

"In a bad way?" returned her father. "Why, my child, that's one of
the strongest banks in the country. What in the world gives you that
idea?"

"Well," said Nellie, "it returned one of my checks today for $30
marked 'No funds.'"


A Buffalo man stopped a newsboy in New York saying: "See here, son, I
want to find the Blank National Bank. I'll give you half a dollar if
you direct me to it."

With a grin, the boy replied: "All right, come along," and he led the
man to a building a half-block away.

The man paid the promised fee, remarking, however, "That was a
half-dollar easily earned."

"Sure!" responded the lad. "But you mustn't fergit that bank-directors
is paid high in Noo Yawk."


HE--"We'll have to give up our intended summer trip. My account at the
bank is already overdrawn."

SHE--"Oh, John, you are such a wretched financier. Why don't you keep
your account in a bank that has plenty of money?"


A Hebrew by the name of Cohen went into a bank one day and asked the
cashier to discount his note. The bank cashier said:

"Mr. Cohen, I can't discount that note unless you get some one you
know, a responsible man, to indorse it."

Cohen said to the cashier: "You know me, und you're responsible; you
indorse it."




BAPTISM


"You don't know me, do you, Bobby?" asked a lady who had recently been
baptized.

"Sure I do," piped the youth. "You're the lady that went in swimming
with the preacher last Sunday."


Little Edward's twin sisters were being christened. All went well
until Edward saw the water in the font. Then he anxiously turned to
his mother and exclaimed: "Ma, which one are you going to keep?"


Throughout the christening ceremony the baby smiled up beautifully
into the clergyman's face.

"Well, madam," said he to the young wife, "I must congratulate you on
your little one's behavior. I have christened more than 2,000 babies,
but I never before christened one that behaved so well as yours."

The young mother smiled demurely, and said:

"His father and I, with a pail of water, have been practising on him
for the last ten days."


"Tommy," said the Sunday-school teacher, who had been giving a lesson
on the baptismal covenant, "can you tell me the two things necessary
to baptism?"

"Yes'm," said Tommy, "water and a baby."


In a small country church, not long since a little child was brought
forward for baptism. The young minister, taking the little one in his
arms, spoke as follows:

"Beloved hearers, no one can foretell the future of this little child.
He may grow up to be a great astronomer, like Sir Isaac Newton, or a
great labor leader like John Burns; and it is possible he might become
the prime minister of England."

Turning to the mother, he inquired, "What is the name of the child?"

"Mary Ann," was the reply.




BAPTISTS


The mayor of a tough border town is about to engage a preacher for the
new church.

"Parson, you aren't by any chance a Baptist, are you?"

"Why, no, not necessarily. Why?"

"Well, I was just agoin' to say we have to haul our water twelve
miles."




BARGAINS


A thin, anemic woman was accosted by her friend on the street: "Why,
Mary, how pale and thin you look! I thought you were going south for
your health."

"I was," said Mary, "but my doctor has offered me such a lovely
bargain in operations--a major operation for one thousand dollars--and
of course I can't resist that."



"How much vas dose collars?"

"Two for a quarter."

"How much for vun?"

"Fifteen cents."

"Giff me de odder vun."



"Ikey," said the teacher, "can you give me a definition for 'a
bargain'?"

"Sure I can," smiled Ikey. "A bargain's when you get the best of
them."


Dad was not greatly pleased by the school report brought to him by his
hopeful.

"How is it?" he demanded, "that you stand so much lower in your
studies for the month of January than for December?"

Samuel was equal to the emergency. "Why, dad," said he, in an injured
tone, "don't you know that everything is marked down after the
holidays?"


Swapping dollars enriches nobody but swapping ideas enriches both
parties to the trade.


A noted wag met an Irishman in the street one day, and thought he
would be funny at his expense.

"Hello, Pat!" he said. "I'll give you eight (in) pence for a
shilling."

"Will ye, now?" said Pat.

"Yes," he replied.

The Irishman handed over the shilling, and his friend put eight pence
into his palm in return.

"Eight in pence," he explained. "Not bad, is it?"

"No," answered Pat; "but the shilling is!"




BASEBALL


"Baseball," says a Big League magnate, "is the public's luxury." The
small boy will disagree with him, a luxury being something you can do
without.-Puck.

At a ball game between a South Carolina negro team and a visiting team
of similar color a negro preacher was acting as umpire. The pitcher
had gone rather wild, and had permitted all the bases to fill. Another
man came to the bat, and the nervous pitcher shot one over.

"Ball one," yelled the ump.

The pitcher tried again.

"Ball two," was the decision.

Another effort by the hurler.

"Ball three," said the umpire.

The pitcher saw his predicament, and made one master effort to save
the day.

"Ball four," yelled the ump, "and the man's out."

"How come, I'se out?" inquired the enraged batter.

"I'se repelled to put you out, nigger. Don't you see dar's nowhere
else to put you?" reasoned the umpire.


They were getting up a ball game in a small town and lacked one
player. They finally persuaded an old fellow to fill in, although he
said he had never played before. He went to the bat and the first ball
pitched he knocked over the fence. Every one stood and watched the
ball, even the batter. Excitedly they told him to run. "Shucks!" he
said, "what's the use of running, I'll buy you another ball."


An Englishman was seeing his first game of baseball, and the "fan" was
explaining the different plays as they were being made.

"Don't you think it's great?" enthusiastically asked the "fan."

"Well," replied the Englishman, "I think it's very exciting, but also
a very dangerous game."

"Dangerous nothing," replied the fan.

Just then a runner was put out at second base.

"What has happened now?" asked the Englishman.

"Chick Smith has died at second," laconically replied the fan.

"Died at second?" replied the astonished Briton. "I knew it was a
dangerous game."


They arrived at the fifth inning.

"What's the score, Jim?" he asked a fan.

"Nothing to nothing," was the reply.

"Oh, goody!" she exclaimed. "We haven't missed a thing!"


At the base ball game.

SHE--"What's the man running for?"

HE--"He hit the ball."

SHE--"I know. But is he required to chase it, too?"


An Englishman was once persuaded to see a game of baseball, and during
the play, when he happened to look away for a moment, a foul tip
caught him on the ear and knocked him senseless. On coming to himself,
he asked faintly, "What was it?"

"A foul--only a foul!"

"Good heavens!" he exclaimed. "A fowl? I thought it was a mule."




BATHS AND BATHING


"S-s-s-s-sus-say, ma," stammered Bobby, through the suds, as his
mother scrubbed and scrubbed him, "I guess you want to get rid o' me,
don't you?"

"Why, no, Bobby dear," replied his mother. "Whatever put such an idea
into your mind?"

"Oh, nuthin'," said Bobby, "only it seems to me you're tryin' to rub
me out."


PA--"At last I've found a way to make that young scamp of ours stop
winking his eyes."

MA--"Really?"

PA--"Yes; I'll show him the article in this science magazine where it
says that every time we wink we give the eye a bath."




BEAUTY, PERSONAL


"Is she very pretty?"

"Pretty? Say! when she gets on a street-car the advertising is a total
loss."


"I don't like these photos at all," he said, "I look like an ape."

The photographer favored him with a glance of lofty disdain.

"You should have thought of that before you had them taken," was his
reply as he turned back to work.


"We're giving Baxby a farewell dinner and I'm to respond to the toast,
'None but the brave deserves the fair.'"

"Sorry for you, old top. You'll have to prove that Baxby is an utter
coward, or that he isn't getting what is his due."


The Chinese are not given to flattery. A gentleman called at a Chinese
laundry for his clothes. On receiving the package he noticed
some Chinese characters marked upon it. He asked, pointing to the
lettering:

"That's my name, I suppose?"

"No; 'scliption," was the Chinaman's bland reply. "'Lil ol' man,
closs-eyed, no teeth.'"--_Everybody's_.




BEGGING


"Some men have no hearts," said the tramp. "I've been a-tellin' that
feller I am so dead broke that I have to sleep outdoors."

"Didn't that fetch him?" asked the other.

"Naw. He tol' me he was a-doin' the same thing, and had to pay the
doctor for tellin' him to do it."


DEAF-AND-DUMB BEGGAR--"Do you think it looks like rain, Bill?"

BLIND BEGGAR--"I dasn't look up to see--here comes one o' my best
customers!"--_Puck_.


He who begs timidly courts a refusal.--_Seneca_.


The matron passed a handout to the disreputable hobo, remarking
curtly, "If you don't mind, eat it outside."

"Bless yer, I'm used to it," he answered. "When I was at home and
in clover, as it were, it was me daily custom, when donnin' me dress
suit, to announce to me valet, 'Parkins, don't await dinner fer me
tonight. I'm dinin' out.'"




BEQUESTS


"There's a story connected with this diamond," said Heinie, pointing
to a big, handsome stone which sparkled in his shirt front. "A friend
of mine by the name of Meyer lay sick in bed. I being his best friend,
he sent for me and said:

"'Heinie, I'm a very sick man. I ain't got long to live. I'm worth
a lot of money, and I'm going to leave it all to you and my other
friends. But I want you to do me one favor. Take this money and when
I'm dead and laid away buy me a nice stone.'

"Those were Meyer's last words, and the day of the funeral I bought
this stone. But how can I give it to him when he's dead?"




BETTING


"Charley, dear," said young Mrs. Torkins, "I am glad to see you taking
as much interest in politics as you formerly took in racing."

"It is the duty of every man and woman to take an interest in
politics."

"Do you wish me to vote for the same candidate that you do?"

"Why shouldn't you?"

"I thought it might be a good idea for me to vote for the other one.
It would be a satisfaction to feel that one or the other of us has at
last succeeded in picking a winner."


A Scottish gentleman on a trip to New Orleans went to see his first
horse-race. He was feeling very reckless, and decided to risk one
dollar, choosing a forty-to-one shot, as that looked like the largest
percentage of gain. By a miracle his horse won, and upon handing his
ticket to the bookmaker, he received forty dollars.

"Do I get all this for my dollar?" he asked. Upon being assured that
he did, he exclaimed. "Hoots! how long has this been going on?"


Little Pat and big Mike had had a dispute, when Mike in contempt said:
"Ye little runt, Oi bet I could carry yez up to the fifth story in me
hod."

Pat immediately took up the bet, saying: "I'd loike to see ye thry
thot same. I'll bet yez fifty cints on it."

Before he knew it Mike had him in his hod and was going up the ladder.
When he got to the fourth story his foot slipped and he almost fell.
He regained his footing, however, and reached the fifth story in
triumph.

"Oi won!" he said.

"Yez did thot," said Pat, "but Oi had high hopes when yer foot
slipped."




BIBLE INTERPRETATION


Senator Simmons was discussing the proposed war-tax on
automobile-owners. "Making war-taxes," he said, "isn't pleasant work.
It puts one in the position of the facetious minister at Ocean Grove
who took a little girl on his knee, and said:

"'I don't love you, Nellie.'"

All the ladies on the breeze-swept veranda laughed, but little Nellie
frowned and said:

"'You've got to love me. You've got to.'"

"'Got to? How so?'" laughed the divine.

"'Because,' said Nellie stoutly, 'you've got to love them that hate
you--and I hate you, goodness knows!'"


"The Bible tells us we should love our neighbors," said the good
deacon.

"Yes, but the Bible was written before our neighbors lived so close,"
replied the mere man.


WILLIE--"Paw, why is the way of the transgressor hard?"

PAW--"Because so many people have tramped on it, my son."


Little Marie was sitting on her grandfather's knee one day, and after
looking at him intently for a time she said:

"Grandpa, were you in the ark?"

"Certainly not, my dear," answered the astonished old man.

"Then why weren't you drowned?"


A bashful curate found the young ladies in the parish too helpful. At
last it became so embarrassing that he left.

Not long afterward--he met the curate who had succeeded him.

"Well," he asked, "how do you get on with the ladies?"

"Oh, very well indeed," said the other. "There is safety in numbers,
you know."

"Ah!" was the instant reply. "I only found it in Exodus."


Bishop Hoss said at a Nashville picnic:

"The religious knowledge of too many adults resembles, I am afraid,
the religious knowledge of little Eve.

"'So you attend Sunday-school regularly?' the minister said to little
Eve."

"'Oh, yes, sir.'"

"'And you know your Bible?'"

"'Oh, yes, sir.'"

"'Could you perhaps tell me something that is in it?'"

"'I could tell you everything that's in it.'"

"'Indeed,' and the minister smiled. 'Do tell me, then.'"

"'Sister's beau's photo is in it,' said little Eve, promptly, 'and
ma's recipe for vanishin' cream is in it, and a lock of my hair cut
off when I was a baby is in it, and the ticket for pa's watch is in
it.'"


"Bobby, do you know you've deliberately broken the eighth commandment
by stealing James's candy?"

"Well, I thought I might as well break the eighth commandment and have
the candy as to break the tenth and only 'covet' it."--_Life_.


"I thought you were preaching, Uncle Bob," said the Colonel, to whom
the elderly negro had applied for a job.

"Yessah, Ah wuz," replied Uncle; "but Ah guess Ah ain't smaht enough
to expound de Scriptures. Ah almost stahved to deff tryin' to explain
de true meanin' uv de line what says 'De Gospel am free.' Dem fool
niggahs thought dat it meant dat Ah wuzn't to git no salary."


The college boys played a mean trick on "Prexy" by pasting some of
the leaves of his Bible together. He rose to read the morning lesson,
which might have been as follows:

"Now Johial took unto himself a wife of the daughters of Belial." (He
turned a leaf.) "She was eighteen cubits in height and ten cubits in
breadth." (A pause and careful scrutiny of the former page.)

He resumed: "Now Johial took unto himself a wife," etc. (Leaf turned.)
"She was eighteen cubits in height and ten cubits in breadth, and was
pitched within and without--" (Painful pause and sounds of subdued
mirth.) "Prexy" turns back again in perplexity.

"Young gentlemen, I can only add that 'Man is fearfully and
wonderfully made'--and woman also."


_See also_ Drinking.




BIGAMY


             _The Bugamist._

  A June bug married an angleworm;
    An accident cut her in two.
  They charged the bug with bigamy;
    Now what could the poor thing do?

  --_Punch Bowl_.


A tariff expert of Kansas City said in a recent address:

"The average tariff argument is amusing in its ignorance. It reminds
me of a certain Kansas City police court.

"A policeman rose in this court to testify against a prisoner.

"'Wot's this here feller charged with?' the magistrate demanded.

"'Bigotry, judge,' the police answered. 'He's got three wives.'

"'Three!' cried the magistrate. 'Why, you ignoramus, that ain't
bigotry. That's trigonometry!'"


"I left my money at home," said the lady on the train to the
conductor. "You will have to trust me. I am one of the directors'
wives."

"I am sorry, madam," replied the conductor. "I can't do that, even if
you were the director's only wife."




BILLS


COLLECTOR--"Did you look at that little bill I left yesterday, sir?"

HOUSE MEMBER--"Yes; it has passed the first reading."


Daniel Webster was once sued by his butcher for a bill of long
standing. Before his suit was settled he met the butcher on the street
and, to the man's great embarrassment, stopped to ask why he had
ceased sending around for his order.

"Why, Mr. Webster," said the tradesman, "I did not think you would
want to deal with me when I've brought suit against you."

"Tut! tut!" said Mr. Webster, "sue me all you wish, but for heaven's
sake don't try to starve me to death!"


"My doctor told me I would have to quit eating so much meat."

"Did you laugh him to scorn?'"

"I did at first; but when he sent in his bill, I found he was right."


TOMMY--"Why do the ducks dive?"

HARP--"Guess they must want to liquidate their bills."


Bill Sprague kept a general store at Croyden Four Corners. One day
he set off for New York to buy a lot of goods. The goods were shipped
immediately; and as Bill had lingered in New York sightseeing, they
reached Croyden Four Corners before him. The goods in an enormous
packing-case were driven to the general store by the local teamster.
Mrs. Sprague came out to see what had arrived and, with a shriek,
tottered and fell.

"Oh, what's the matter, ma'am?" cried the hired girl.

Mrs Sprague, her eyes blinded with tears, pointed to the packing-case,
whereon was stenciled in large black letters: "BILL INSIDE."


When you do not intend to pay a bill there is nothing like being
decisive in your refusal. The other day a bookseller had an "account
rendered" returned to him with the following reply scrawled across the
billhead: "Dear Sir--I never ordered this beastly book. If I did, you
didn't send it. If you sent it, I never got it. If I got it, I
paid for it. If I didn't, I won't. Now go and hang yourself, you
fathead.--Yours very respectfully, John Jones."


PATIENT--"Doctor, what I need is something to stir me up--something
to put me in fighting-trim. Did you put anything like that in this
prescription?"

DOCTOR--"No. You will find that in the bill."--_Judge_.


_See also_ Debts; Collecting of accounts.




BLUFFING


VISITOR (at private hospital)--"Can I see Lieutenant Barker, please?"

MATRON--"We do not allow ordinary visiting. May I ask if you're a
relative?"

VISITOR (boldly)--"Oh, yes! I'm his sister."

MATRON--"Dear me! I'm very glad to meet you. I'm his
mother."--_Punch_.


Yes, life's like poker sure enough. It pays to know just when to
bluff.


Half-way up the steep hill the stage-coach stopped. For the seventh
time the driver climbed down from his seat and opened and slammed the
rear door.

"What do you do that for?" asked a passenger, whose curiosity had got
the better of him.

"Sh-h; spake aisy. Don't let th' mare 'ear yer," cautioned the driver.
"Every toime she 'ears th' door shut she thinks some one has got down,
and it starrts 'er up quicker loike."


Ollie James is a big man personally and politically. He is a United
States senator from Kentucky, and he weighs a trifle more than three
hundred and fifty pounds.

On one occasion, in traveling from New York to Washington, he barely
caught the midnight train, and discovered that the only berth left was
an upper. Having learned from experience that the process of coiling
up his three hundred and fifty pounds and his six feet three inches in
an upper berth was tough stuff, he was indignant. He was particularly
enraged when he noticed that the lower directly under his berth was
occupied by a small man who tipped the scales at not more than a
hundred and twenty.

Ollie grasped the curtains of the berth, shook them vigorously,
growled once or twice, and remarked vindictively to the porter:

"So I've got to sleep in an upper, have I? The last time I did that it
was on a trip from Frankfort to Washington, and the blamed thing broke
down and mashed the man under me. Throw that grip up there, and I hope
to Heaven the berth will hold me."

Then he went back to the smoker and had a cigar.

When he returned, the little man was in the upper.


             _As it is_

    Weep and you are called a baby,
      Laugh and you are called a fool,
    Yield and you're called a coward,
      Stand and you're called a mule,
    Smile and they'll call you silly,
      Frown and they'll call you gruff,
    Put on a front like a millionaire,
      And somebody calls you a bluff.


A successful old lawyer tells the following story anent the beginning
of his professional life: "I had just installed myself in my office,"
he said, "had put in a phone and had preened myself for my first
client who might come along when, through the glass of my door I saw
a shadow. Yes, it was doubtless some one to see me. Picture me, then,
grabbing the nice, shiny receiver of my new phone and plunging into an
imaginary conversation. It ran something like this: 'Yes, Mr. S.,' I
was saying as the stranger entered the office, 'I'll attend to that
corporation matter for you. Mr. J. had me on the phone this morning
and wanted me to settle a damage suit, but I had to put him off, as I
was too busy with other cases. But I'll manage to sandwich your case
in between the others somehow. Yes. Yes. All right. Goodby.' Being
sure, then, that I had duly impressed my prospective client, I hung up
the receiver and turned to him. 'Excuse me, sir,' the man said,
'but I'm from the telephone company. I've come to connect your
instrument.'"




BOARD OF HEALTH


Strolling along the quays of New York harbor, an Irishman came across
the wooden barricade which is placed around the inclosure where
immigrants suspected of suffering from contagious diseases are
isolated.

"Phwat's this fince for?" he inquired of a bystander.

"Oh," was the reply; "that's to keep out fever and things like that,
you know."

"Indade!" said Pat. "Oi've often heard of the board of health, but
bejabers, it's the first time Oi've seen it!"




BOARDING HOUSES


The fare at a certain boarding-house was very poor. A boarder who had
been there for some time, because he could not get away, was standing
in the hall when the landlord rang the dinner-bell. Whereupon an old
dog that was lying outside on a rug commenced to howl mournfully.

The boarder watched him a little while and then said: "What on earth
are you howling for? You don't have to eat it!"


In the soft firelight even the boarding-house sitting-room looked cozy
and attractive. The warmth and comfort thawed the heart of the "star"
boarder. He turned to the landlady and murmured. "Will you be my
wife?"

"Let me see," replied the landlady, "you have been here four years.
You have never once grumbled at the food or failed to pay my bill
promptly and without question. No, sir, I'm sorry. You're too good a
boarder to be put on the free list!"




BOASTING


The engineer had become tired of the boastful talk he heard from the
other engine drivers at his boarding-house. One evening he began:

"This morning I went over to see a new machine we've got at our place,
and it's astonishing how it works."

"And how does it work?" asked one.

"Well," was the reply, "by means of a pedal attachment a fulcrumed
lever concerts a vertical reciprocating motion into a circular
movement. The principal part of the machine is a huge disk that
revolves in a vertical plane. Power is applied through the axis of the
disk, and work is done on the periphery, and the hardest steel by mere
impact may be reduced to any shape."

"What is this wonderful machine?" was asked.

"A grindstone," was the reply.


Senator Tillman was arguing the tariff with an opponent.

"You know I never boast," the opponent began.

"Never boast? Splendid!" said Senator Tillman, and he added quietly,
"No wonder you brag about it."


They are mighty proud of their one sky-scraper up in Seattle.

It is a long, skinny building that stands on one leg like a stork
and blinks down disdainfully from its thousand windows on ordinary
fifteen-story shacks.

A San Francisco man recently in that city was incautious enough to
express surprise.

"What are those posts sticking out all the way up?" he asked a
Seattleite.

"Those are mile-posts," said the Seattle man.


A gentleman from Vermont was traveling west in a Pullman when a group
of men from Topeka, Kansas, boarded the train and began to praise
their city to the Vermonter, telling him of its wide streets and
beautiful avenues. Finally the Vermonter became tired and said
the only thing that would improve their city would be to make it a
seaport.

The enthusiastic Westerners laughed at him and asked how they could
make it a seaport, being so far from the ocean.

The Vermonter replied that it would be a very easy task.

"The only thing that you will have to do," said he, "is to lay a
two-inch pipe from your city to the Gulf of Mexico. Then if you
fellows can suck as hard as you can blow you will have it a seaport
inside half an hour."




BOLSHEVISM


"The reason you disapprove of Bolshevism is that you don't understand
it."

"Probably. Every time I get with Bolshevists and think I am beginning
to understand, they start a riot and take my mind off the subject."


There's just one thing the Bolshevik in America can do well--he can
dampen the fire under the Melting Pot!


Bolshevism--A blow-out on the tire of world-politics.




BOOKS AND READING


A student assistant, engaged in reading the shelves at the public
library, was accosted by a primly dressed middle-aged woman who said
that she had finished reading the last of Laura Jean Libby's writings,
and that she should like something just as good.

The young assistant, unable for the moment to think of Laura Jean
Libby's equal, hastily scanned the shelf on which she was working and,
choosing a book, offered it to the applicant, saying, "Perhaps you
would like this, 'A Kentucky Cardinal.'"

"No," was the reply, "I don't care for theological works."

"But," explained the kindly assistant, with needless enthusiasm, "this
cardinal was a bird!"

"That would not recommend him to me," said the woman, as she moved
away in search of a librarian who should be a better judge of
character as well as of Laura Jean Libby's peers.


Books are the legacies that genius leaves to mankind, to be delivered
down from generation to generation, as presents to the posterity of
those that are yet unborn.--_Addison_.


"Are you interested in a loose-leaf encyclopedia?"

"Nope, got one."

"Indeed! Whose?"

"The Britannica."

"Didn't know they published a loose-leaf edition."

"Huh! You ought to see mine after the children had used the volumes as
building blocks a few years."


A dressy lady asked one of the assistants for an up-to-date story
such as "Women men love" or the "Adventures of Anne." The assistant
selected a story which she thought this type of reader would
appreciate. After a few minutes the dressy lady again appeared with
the book open, and pointing to a quotation on the title page said
"I would like this book or any other by Proverbs." The astonished
assistant read the quotation which was, "who can find a virtuous
woman, her price is far above rubies." _Proverbs_ 31:10.


"How far have you studied, Johnny?" inquired the teacher. "Just as far
as the book is dirty, ma'am."


Our youngest borrower is a little boy of three who reads surprisingly
well for one so young and selects his own books from the children's
room. The other day, however, his mother complained that lately he has
become "lazy" and refuses to read. As we stood talking the little chap
ran joyfully toward her waving a picture book that had been made at
the branch and said, "No words Mother, no words."


  If this is borrowed by a friend
    Right welcome shall he be;
  To read, to study, not to lend
    But to return to me.
  Not that imparted knowledge doth
    Diminish learning's store,
  But books, I find, if often lent,
    Return to me no more.


  "Books are keys to wisdom's treasures;
    Books are gates to lands of pleasure;
  Books are paths that upward lead;
    Books are friends, come, let us read."


When I consider what some books have done for the world, and what they
are doing, how they keep up our hope, awaken new courage and faith,
soothe pain, give an ideal life to those whose hours are cold and
hard, bind together distant ages and foreign lands, create new worlds
of beauty, bring down Truth from heaven; I give eternal blessings for
this gift and thank God for books.


Mr. Dooley says "Books is f'r thim that can't inj'ye thimsilves in
anny other way. If ye're in good health, an ar-re atin' three squares
a day, an' not ayether sad or very much in love with ye'er lot, but
just lookin' on an' not carin' a rush, ye don't need books," he says.

"But if ye're a down-spirited thing an' want to get away an' can't, ye
need books."


1921--"Did you see that movie called 'Oliver Twist'?" FROSH--"Yes, and
say, wouldn't that make a peach of a book?"


Young Isaac stood in line at the library to draw out a book. When his
turn came he asked, respectfully, "Please give me Miss Alcott's Jew
book."

The young lady looked puzzled. "A book by Miss Louisa M. Alcott?" she
queried.

"Yes," reiterated Isaac, "her Jew book."

"Can you remember the title?"

"No; but it's her Jew book," he insisted.

"Well, I'll read over some of the titles of her books to you, and
perhaps you can tell me the one you want when you hear it read."
Patiently she began, "_Little Women, Little Men, Under the Lilacs,
Rose in Bloom_--"

"That's it, that's it!" cried Isaac--"_Rosenbloom_."


A MAID (handing up two books to a library assistant)--"Will you
change these two books, please, for Mrs. Crawley-Smith?"

ASSISTANT--"Are there any others you wish for?"

MAID--"No. Mrs. Crawley-Smith doesn't mind what they are so long as
they have big print and a happy ending."


_Hard to Find_

LIBRARIAN--"What kind of book do you want--fictional, historical,
philosophical--?"

PATRON--"Oh, any kind that H.G. Wells hasn't written."

LIBRARIAN--"We have none!"




BOOKSELLERS AND BOOKSELLING


William Dean Howells, at a dinner in Boston, said of modern American
letters:

"The average popular novel shows on the novelist's part an ignorance
of his trade which reminds me of a New England clerk.

"In a New England village I entered the main street department-store
one afternoon and said to the clerk at the book-counter:

"'Let me have, please, the letters of Charles Lamb.'

"'Post-office right across the street, Mr. Lamb,' said the clerk, with
a naive, brisk smile."


"You never can tell," said a traveling salesman. "Now you'd think
that a little New England village, chock full of church influence and
higher education, would be just the place to sell a book like 'David
Harum,' wouldn't you? Well, I know a man who took a stock up there and
couldn't unload one of 'em. He'd have been stuck for fair if he hadn't
had a brilliant idea and got the town printer to doctor up the title
for him. As it was, he managed to unload the whole lot and get out of
town before the first purchaser discovered that 'David's Harum' wasn't
quite what he had led himself to suppose."


Remember what Roger Mifflin says: "When you sell a man a book, you
don't sell him just three ounces of paper and ink and glue--you sell
him a whole new life. Love and friendship and humour, and ships at sea
by night--there's all heaven and earth in a book."


PENFIELD--"What do you know about Bestseller's new book?"

CRABSHAW--"Nothing at all. I've merely read all the reviews of
it."--_Life_.


MANAGER--"Can't you find some way to make yourself busy around here?"

BOOKISH NEW SALESMAN--"Milton, in his 'Sonnet on Blindness,' says:
'They also serve who only stand and wait.'"

MANAGER--"Yes, but you must keep in mind that Milton's most famous
book was about a fellow that lost his job and went to hades."


"What do you think of my library?"

"I was just looking it over and I notice that you were visited by the
same book agents who landed me."


  "There's a fellow outside with a volume of poems
  (The title, I think is 'The Beautiful Gnomes'),
  He says it's the best of poetical tomes."
    "I'll see him next Christmas," the publisher said.

  "There's a gentleman waiting to tell you about
  A novel of his, which, without any doubt
  (So he says), will make critics with happiness shout."
    "Oh, tell him I'm ill or rheumatic--or dead."

  "There's also a lady who's just come away
  From Russia; she says that the Reds are at bay,
  And she's willing to write it at so much a day."
    "I've just left for Portugal, China and Mars."

  "And then there's a bookseller--looks like a gink--
  From somewhere out West; Indiana, I think.
  I'll tell him you're out buying authors a drink."
    "A bookseller? In with him! Boy, the cigars!"

  --_Edward Anthony_.


CANVASSER--"May I have a few minutes of your time?"

PROSPECT--"Yes, if you will be brief. What can I do for you; I'm a man
of few words."

CANVASSER--"Just the man I'm looking for, my specialty is
dictionaries."




BOOMERANGS


_See_ Repartee; Retaliation.




BOOSTING


    Boost your city, boost your friend,
    Boost the lodge that you attend.
    Boost the street on which you're dwelling,
    Boost the goods that you are selling.
    Boost the people 'round about you,
    They can't get along without you,
    But success will quicker find them,
    If they know that you're behind them.
    Boost for every forward movement,
    Boost for every new improvement,
    Boost the man for whom you labor,
    Boost the stranger and the neighbor.
    Cease to be a chronic knocker,
    Cease to be a progress blocker.
    If you'd make your city better
    Boost it to the final letter.


    Boost, and the world boosts with you,
      Knock, and you're on the shelf,
    For the world gets sick of the one who'll kick
      And wishes he'd kick himself.
    Boost, for your own achievements,
      Boost for the things sublime,
    For the one who is found on the topmost round,
      Is the Booster every time.


It takes no more time to boost a man than it does to knock him--and
think how much pleasanter for everybody.




BORROWERS


Mr. Tucker had unexpectedly come face to face with Mr. Cutting, from
whom he had frequently borrowed money.

"Er--aw--what was the denomination of the bill you loaned me?" he
asked nervously.

"Episcopalian, I guess," said Mr. Cutting. "At any rate, it keeps Lent
very well."


"There's a friend in the outer office waiting for you, sir."

"Here, James, take this $10 and keep it till I come back."


ED--"Have you forgotten you owe me five dollars?"

NED--"No, not yet. Give me time, and I will."


Jenkins was always trying to borrow money, and his friends had begun
to avoid him.

One morning he tackled an acquaintance in the street before the latter
had a chance to escape.

"I say, old man," began Jenkins, "I'm in a terrible fix. I want some
money badly, and I haven't the slightest idea where on earth I'm going
to get it from."

"Glad to hear it, my boy," returned the other promptly. "I was afraid
that you might have an idea you could borrow it from me."


One of the shrewd lairds of Lanarkshire had evidently experienced the
difficulties of collecting money lent to friends.

"Laird," a neighbor accosted him one morning, "I need twenty poonds.
If ye'll be guid enough to tak ma note, ye'll hae yere money back agin
in three months frae the day."

"Nae, Donald," replied the laird, "I canna do it."

"But, laird, ye hae often done the like fer yere friends."

"Nae, mon, I canna obleege ye."

"But, laird--"

"Will ye listen to me, Donald? As soon as I took yere note ye'd draw
the twenty poonds, would ye no?"

Donald could not deny that he would.

"I ken ye weel, Donald," the laird continued, "and I ken that in
three months ye'd nae be ready to pay me ma money. Then, ye ken, we'd
quarrel. But if we're to quarrel, Donald, I'd rather do it noo, when I
hae ma twenty poonds in ma pocket."


ASKER--"Could you lend me a V?"

TELLIT--"No, I couldn't."

ASKER--"Have you a friend that would lend me a V?"

TELLIT--"No. I have not a friend to spare."


"Has Owens ever paid back that $10 you loaned him a year ago?"

"Oh, yes; he borrowed $25 more from me last week and only took $15."


An Oriental story tells us of a man who was asked to lend a rope to a
neighbor. His reply was that he was in need of the rope just then.

"Shall you need it a long time?" asked the neighbor.

"I think I shall," replied the owner, "as I am going to tie up some
sand with it."

"Tie up sand!" exclaimed the would-be borrower. "I do not see how you
can do that!"

"Oh, you can do almost anything with a rope when you do not want to
lend it," was the reply.


MISS PRITTIKID--"But, father, he is a man you can trust."

HER PA--"Gracious, girl; what I want is one I can borrow from."




BOSTON


MR. PENN--"They say the streets in Boston are frightfully crooked."

MR. HUBB--"They are. Why, do you know, when I first went there I could
hardly find my way around."

"That must be embarrassing."

"It is. The first week I was there I wanted to get rid of an old cat
we had, and my wife got me to take it to the river a mile away."

"And you lost the cat all right?"

"Lost nothing! I never would have found my way home if I hadn't
followed the cat!"


Owing to the war a distinguished Boston man, deprived of his summer
trip to Europe, went to the Pacific coast instead. Stopping off at
Salt Lake City, he strolled about the city and made the acquaintance
of a little Mormon girl.

"I'm from Boston," he said to her. "I suppose you do not know where
Boston is?"

"Oh, yes, I do," answered the little girl eagerly. "Our Sunday-school
has a missionary there."


The motorist was a stranger in Boston's streets. It was evening. A man
approached.

"Sir," said he, "your beacon has ceased its functions."

"What?" gasped the astonished driver.

"Your illuminator, I say, is shrouded in unmitigated oblivion."

"I don't quite--"

"The effulgence of your irradiator has evanesced."

"My dear fellow, I--"

"The transversal ether oscillations in your incandenser have been
discontinued."

Just then a little newsboy came over and said:

"Say, mister, yer lamp's out!"


Senator Hoar used to tell with glee of a Southerner just home from
New England who said to his friend, "You know those little white round
beans?"

"Yes," replied the friend; "the kind we feed to our horses?"

"The very same. Well, do you know, sir, that in Boston the enlightened
citizens take those little white round beans, boil them with molasses
and I know not what other ingredients, bake them, and then--what do
you suppose they do with the beans?"

"They--"

"They eat 'em, sir," interrupted the first Southerner impressively;
"bless me, sir, they eat 'em!"


The newly married couple had gone West to live, and as the Christmas
season drew nigh she became homesick.

"Even the owls are different here," she sighed.

"And how is that?" he asked.

"Here they say 'To-hoot-to-who,' and in Boston they say
'To-hoot-to-whom.'"


"Lay down, pup. Lay down. That's a good doggie. Lay down, I tell you."

"Mister, you'll have to say, 'Lie down.' He's a Boston terrier."


"Well, the Red Sox won the world's series."

"Yes," said the Boston girl, "we feel very proud of the Red--er--the
Red Hose."




BOY SCOUTS


_A Boy Scout's Will_

I, John W. Bradshaw, pioneer scout of the Wolf Patrol, having attained
the age of maturity and realizing that my Boy Scout days are numbered,
do hereby give, devise and bequeath my scout assets, tangible and
intangible, as follows, to wit:

My uniform, pack and equipment, to Larry O'Toole, the son of my
mother's laundress, to be preserved for him until he is old enough to
use them;

My scout's manual, axe and compass, to George Washington Jackson, 3d,
son of my father's handy man, with the admonition that he organize, if
possible, a troop of scouts among the colored boys of the village;

My strap watch with the "see by night" dial, to Roscoe, my small
brother, who has wanted it ever since he learned to tell time;

My waterproof match box and hunting knife, to James Fanning, to be
held in trust until he can repeat the Scout Oath;

To all boys in general I bequeath the knowledge that the Boy Scout
organization teaches obedience, bravery, loyalty, self-respect,
kindness, thrift, cleanliness and reverence; that it makes men of its
members, and that no boy can possibly go wrong by joining it.




BOYS


"I see they are making shingles out of cement now."

"Then I recall my wish to be a boy again."


One of Theodore Roosevelt's sons, when small, was playing in the
Washington streets when a woman recognized him and said she didn't
think his father would like his playing with so many "common boys."

"My father says there are no common boys," replied the young
Roosevelt.

"He says there are only tall boys and short boys, and good boys and
bad boys, and that's all the kinds of boys there are."


Johnny stood beside his mother as she made her selection from the
green grocer's cart, and the latter told the boy to take a handful of
nuts, but the child shook his head.

"What's the matter, don't you like nuts?" asked the green grocer.

"Yes," replied Johnny.

"Then go ahead and take some."

Johnny hesitated, whereupon the green grocer put a generous handful in
Johnny's cap.

After the man had driven on the mother asked: "Why didn't you take the
nuts when he told you to?"

Johnny winked as he said: "'Cause his hand was bigger'n mine."


  Golly! Let him whistle, mother!
    He's just boy--that's all.
  Let him be one while he can: you'll find it pays.
  Jolly little baby brother!
    When the shadows fall
      You'll be wishin' he was back in boyhood days!
  If you'd been in France and seen
  All the things that I have seen--
    Baby faces that will never
      Baby faces be again--
    Say! You wouldn't check that whistle
      For a million iron men!

  Lordy! mother, let him holler!
    He's not hurting anything;
      And he's carefree as a puppy--just that gay.
  Dirty shirt, without a collar--
    Never was a king
      Happy as that baby yonder, yelling at his play.
  Little kiddies over there--
  Solemn eyes and tangled hair--
    Ten years old? That's still a baby!
      What he's doin's baby stuff!
    And the dignity of manhood
      Will be comin' quick enough!

  Let him yell and squeal and whistle,
    Rollin' in the sand;
      Let him have the freedom of the whole back lot.
  Things that hurt like thorn o' thistle
    Workin' in your hand
      You'll be wishin' some time that those things were not!
  When I think of babies--old
  From the things that can't be told--
    And then look at him a-dancin',
      Singin', shoutin', in his joy:
    Don't put out a hand to stop him!
      Mother--let him be a boy!


William's uncle was a very tall, fine-looking man, while his father
was very small. William admired his uncle, and wished to grow up like
him. One day he said to his mother:

"Mama, how did uncle grow so big and tall?"

His mother said: "Well, when uncle was a small boy he was always a
very good boy, and tried to do what was right at all times; so God let
him grow up big and tall."

William thought this over seriously for a few minutes, then said:
"Mama, what kind of a boy was papa?"


_See also_ Office boys.




BRIDES


And men relate that Mrs. Newlywed went to the grocery store to do her
morning marketing. And she was determined that the grocer should not
take advantage of her youth and inexperience.

"These eggs are dreadfully small," she criticized.

"I know it," he answered. "But that's the kind the farmer brings me.
They are just fresh from the country this morning."

"Yes," said the bride, "and that's the trouble with those farmers.
They are so anxious to get their eggs sold that they take them off the
nest too soon!"


"Hello! Is this you, mother, dear?"

"Yes, Sue? What is it? Something awful must have happened for you to
call me up at this--"

"It's not so awful. But, John, dear, hasn't been feeling well and the
doctor gave him pills to take every four hours. I've been sitting up
to give them to him, and now it's about time for the medicine, and
John has fallen asleep. Should I wake him?"

"I wouldn't if I were you. What is he suffering from?"

"Insomnia."


WIFE--"Oh, George, do order a rat-trap to be sent home today."

GEORGE--"But you bought one last week."

WIFE--"Yes, dear, but there's a rat in that."


"What kind of coal do you wish, mum?"

"Dear me, I am so inexperienced in these things. Are there various
kinds?"

"Oh, yes. We have egg coal, chestnut--"

"I think I'll take egg coal. We have eggs oftener than we have
chestnuts."




BROOKLYN


"Where can I find a map of Brooklyn, old man?"

"There ain't any such thing. No one has ever been able to make one."




BROTHERHOOD


The brotherhood of man begins with the manhood of the brother.


To live is not to live for one's self alone; let us help one
another.--_Menander_.


We must love men, ere to us they will seem worthy of our
love.--_Shakespeare_.




BURBANK


One day Luther Burbank was walking in his garden when he was accosted
by an officious acquaintance who said:

"Well, what are you working on now?"

"Trying to cross an eggplant and milk-weed," said Mr. Burbank.

"And what under heaven do you expect from that?"

Mr. Burbank calmly resumed his walk.

"Custard pie," he said.




BUSINESS


There are two reasons why some people don't mind their own business.
One is that they haven't any mind, the other that they haven't any
business.


"I'm a very busy man, sir. What is your proposition?"

"I want to make you rich."

"Just so. Leave your recipe with me and I'll look it over later. Just
now I'm engaged in closing up a little deal by which I expect to make
$3.50 in real money."


A teacher asked those pupils who wanted to go to heaven to raise their
hands. All except little Ikey's hands went up. The teacher asked him
if he didn't want to go to heaven and Ikey replied that he had heard
his father tell his mother that 'Business had all gone to hell' and
Ikey wanted to go where the business had gone.


The vicar's appeal had been a most eloquent one, and had even
penetrated the depths of Mr. Blackleigh's granite organ. The latter
came forward and offered L50 for the fund.

The worthy cleric was overjoyed.

"I don't know your name, sir," he cried; "but I thank you from the
bottom of my heart. I thank you! May your business prosper, sir!"

Then there was a solemn hush, and the committee looked askance at
their vicar.

"What's the matter?" whispered the clergyman, turning to the chairman.

"Well--er--that donor is an undertaker!"


"There is one respect in which a live business man isn't like a tree."

"What is that?"

"If he remains rooted to the spot, he can't branch out."


During a campaign preceding the election of a Missouri Congressman it
was suggested that, since he posed as a good business man, he might be
willing to tell just what a good business man is.

"That's easy," he explained. "A good business man is one who can buy
goods from a Scotchman and sell them to a Jew--at a profit!"


EDITH--"Dick, dear, your office is in State street, isn't it?"

DICKEY--"Yes; why?"

EDITH--"That's what I told papa. He made such a funny mistake about
you yesterday. He said he'd been looking you up in Bradstreet."


FIRST MERCHANT (as reported in the New York "Trade Record")--"How's
business?"

SECOND MERCHANT--"Picking up a little. One of our men got a $5,000
order yesterday."

"Go away. I don't believe that."

"Honest he did--I'll show you the cancellation."




BUSINESS ENTERPRISE


The story of the rival boot-makers, which appeared recently, is
matched by a correspondent of an English paper with another story,
equally old but equally worth repeating. It concerns two rival
sausage-makers. Again, they lived on opposite sides of a certain
street, and, one day, one of them placed over his shop the legend:

"We sell sausages to the gentry and nobility of the country."

The next day, over the way, appeared the sign:

"We sell sausages to the gentry and nobility of the whole country."

Not to be outdone, the rival put up what he evidently regarded as a
final statement, namely:

"We sell sausages to the King."

Next day there appeared over the door of the first sausage-maker the
simple expression of loyalty:

"God save the King."


"Biddy," remarked the newly wed Irishman, "go down and feed the pigs."

"Faith and I will not," replied the bride.

"Don't be after contradicting me, Biddy," retorted the husband.
"Haven't I just endowed you with all my worldly goods, and if you can
not feed your own property, then it's ashamed of you I am."

This was a new point of view, so off Biddy went.

Presently she returned.

"Have you fed the pigs, Biddy?" demanded her husband, sternly.

"Faith, and I have not," she answered. "I have done a great deal
better. As they were my property I have sold them, and shall not be
bothered with them again."


A business man advertised for an office boy. The next morning there
were some fifty boys in line. He was about to begin examining the
applicants when his stenographer handed him a card on which was
scribbled:

"Don't do anything until you see me. I'm the last kid in line, but I'm
telling you I'm there with the goods."


In one of the back streets in Philadelphia is a little jewelry store
which is making progress--witness this incident:

"What's the price of nickel alarm clocks?"

"Dwenty-fife cends."

"What! Why, how's that? Last week you told my son they were a dollar."

"Yaw, dat is so. Listen: You are a good frien', so I tol' you. Ven I
hat some I sells him for von tollar. Now I ain'd got none I sells him
for dwendy-fife cents. Dot makes me a rebutation for cheabness, und I
don't lose noddings!"


_Commercialomania_

PROFITEER--"One million is the price of a gram of radium!"

HIS PARTNER--"And we never thought of trying to sell any!"


An enterprising young florist, in order to increase his trade,
displayed this sign in his window:

"We give a packet of flower seeds with every plant."

His competitor across the street promptly sought to meet the
competition by placing in his window the following announcement:

"We give the earth with every plant."


A very small but live boy applied to a great merchant for a job.

The great man sized him up with twinkling eyes, for the one situation
open needed a bigger parcel of human experience, and asked what
position he wanted.

"A chance to grow up in the business, Mister."

"Well, we are more or less being depopulated by the drafts. What is
your motto, my son?"

"The same as yours," was the ready answer.

"What do you mean?" asked the puzzled merchant.

"Why, on the door there--'Push.'"

He got the job of keeper of that very door.


The proprietors of two rival livery-stables, situated alongside each
other in a busy street, have been having a lively advertising duel
lately.

The other week one of them stuck up on his office window a long strip
of paper, bearing the words:

"Our horses need no whip to make them go."

This bit of sarcasm naturally caused some amusement at the expense of
the rival proprietor, but in less than an hour he neatly turned the
tables by pasting the following retort on his own window:

"True. The wind blows them along!"


A group of farmers were complaining of the potato bugs' ravages.

"The pests ate my whole potato crop in two weeks," said one farmer.

"They ate my crop in two days," said a second farmer, "and then they
roosted on the trees to see if I'd plant more."

A drummer for a seed house cleared his throat.

"Gents," he said, "all that's very remarkable. Let me tell you,
though, what I saw in our own store. I saw a couple of potato bugs
examining the books about a week before planting time to see who had
bought seed."


UNFORTUNATE PEDESTRIAN (who has been knocked down and dazed)--"Where
am I? Where am I?"

ENTERPRISING HAWKER--"'Ere y'are, sir--map of London, one
penny."--_Punch_.


             _Why He Was Not Promoted_

  He watched the clock.
  He was always grumbling.
  He was never at the office on time.
  He asked too many questions.
  His stock excuse was "it isn't necessary."
  He wasn't ready for the next step.
  He did not put his heart in his work.
  He learned nothing from his blunders.
  He chose his friends among his inferiors.
  He ruined his ability by half-doing things.
  He never acted on his own judgment.
  He did not think it worth while to learn how.
  He imitated the habits of other men who could stand more than he
          could.
  He did not learn that the best part of his salary was not in his
          pay envelope.
  He didn't have to.
  He was the President of the Company.

  --G.M.



BUSINESS ETHICS


Johnny was at the grocery store.

"I hear you have a little sister at your house," said the grocer.

"Yes, sir," said Johnny.

"Do you like that?" was queried.

"I wish it was a boy," said Johnny, "so I could play marbles with him,
and baseball."

"Well," said the storekeeper, "why don't you exchange your little
sister for a boy?"

Johnny reflected for a minute; then he said sorrowfully:

"We can't now; it's too late. We've used her four weeks."


A Priest in Ireland went to Rome, and a number of his parishioners
asked him to buy things for them. Some gave him the cash; others did
not. When he returned, he brought the articles for those who paid for
them in advance. When the others complained, he said, with a wink:

"While I was at sea I got out all the commissions and spread them on
the deck. On the papers of those who had given me the coin I put the
money. The others had nothing to weight them down. A squall of wind
came up. It blew all the unweighted papers into the sea! So the ones
who gave me the money got what they asked me to get. The others must
ask Father Neptune for theirs."


A New York lawyer had in his employ an office-boy who was addicted to
the bad habit of telling in other offices what happened in that of
his employer. The lawyer found it necessary to discharge him, but,
thinking to restrain him from a similar fault in the future, he
counseled the boy, on his departure, in this wise:

"Tommy, you must never hear anything that is said in the office. Do
what you are told, but turn a deaf ear to conversation that does not
include you."

This struck the boss as such a happy inspiration that, to the end that
his stenographer might learn the same lesson, he turned to her and
said:

"Miss Jones, did you hear what I said to Tommy?"

"No, sir," she returned, promptly.


The firm of Hansen & Fransen was started in wartime and did very well
for a couple of years. But last year things were on the down grade,
and the other day, when the two partners had finished making up their
none-too-good record for the year, Hansen said: "This would make
anyone thoughtful. Now that the good times are over, how about a
little honest business?"

"No, thanks," said Fransen. "I never indulge in experiments."


"There are no more enterprising young men. Why, I remember when it was
a common thing for a young man to start out as a clerk and in a few
years own the business."