Among the Humorists and After Dinner Speakers Part 22

"My hair is falling out," admitted the timid man in the chemist's.

"Can you recommend something to keep it in?"

"Certainly," replied the obliging a.s.sistant. "Here is a nice cardboard box."

An eloquent evangelist who was holding a series of protracted meetings had been interrupted on several occasions by the departure of some one of the audience. He determined to prevent further annoyance by making an example of the next one so doing. Therefore, when a young man arose to depart in the middle of a discourse, he said: "Young man, would you rather go to h.e.l.l than listen to this sermon?" The individual addressed stopped midway up the aisle and, turning slowly about, answered: "Well, to tell the truth, I don't know but I would."

Mr. Seabury and his wife were on the point of moving to another flat.

Both of them were anxious that the transfer should be made at the least possible expense, and the nearness of the new home promised materially to further this aim.

"I can carry loads of little things over in my brown bag," announced Mrs. Seabury. "And you can take books and so on in your big satchel."

In discussing further the matter of transportation, Mrs. Seabury remarked that, notwithstanding the heat, she could wear her winter coat over, and leave it, and return for her spring coat. The idea charmed her impractical husband.

"Why, I can do the same thing!" he said. "I'll wear over one suit and then come back for another!"

The ghost of Noah Webster came to a spiritual medium in Alabama, not long ago, and wrote on a slip of paper: "It is t.i.te times." Noah was right, but we are sorry to see he has gone back on his dictionary.

Sydney Smith wrote to Jeffrey: "Tell Murray that I was much struck with the politeness of Miss Markham the day after he went. In carving a partridge I splashed her with gravy from head to foot; and, though I saw three distinct brown rills of juice trickling down her cheek, she had the complaisance to swear that not a drop had reached her.

Such circ.u.mstances are the triumphs of civilized life."

During a certain battle the colonel of an Irish regiment noticed that one of his men was extremely devoted to him, and followed him everywhere. At length he remarked, "Well, my man, you have stuck by me well to-day."

"Yis, sorr," replied Pat. "Shure me mither said to me, said she, just stick to the colonel, Patrick, me bhoy, and you'll be all roight. Them colonels never gets hurted."

Miss Frances Keller, of the Woman's Munic.i.p.al League of New York, ill.u.s.trated admirably at a recent dinner party a point which she wished to make in reply to a man who had said, "Women are vainer than men."

"Of course," Miss Keller answered, "I admit that women are vain and men are not. There are a thousand proofs that this is so. Why, the necktie of the handsomest man in the room is even now up the back of his collar."

There were six men present and each of them put his hand gently behind his neck.

As father was leaving the house one morning he looked in vain for his umbrella.

"I expect sister's beau took it last night," ventured six-year-old Willie.

"Oh, you naughty boy," said Sister Mabel; "how can you say that?"

"Why, it's so," Willie insisted. "When he was saying good night I heard him say, 'I am going to steal just one!'"

During a conversation with a young lady Mark Twain had occasion to mention the word drydock.

"What is a drydock, Mr. Clemens?" she asked.

"A thirsty physician," replied the humorist.

Some officer had disobeyed or failed to comprehend an order. "I believe I'll sit down," said Secretary Stanton, "and give that man a piece of my mind."

"Do so," said Lincoln, "write him now while you have it on your mind.

Make it sharp. Cut him all up." Stanton did not need a second invitation. It was a bone crusher that he read to the President.

"That's right," said Lincoln; "that's a good one."

"Whom can I send it by?" mused the Secretary.

"Send it!" replied Lincoln. "Why, don't send it at all. Tear it up.

You have freed your mind on the subject, and that is all that is necessary. Tear it up. You never want to send such letters, I never do."

A certain old gentleman's lack of "polish" is a sad trial to his eldest daughter. Not long ago the family were gathered in the library, one of the windows of which was open.

"That air--" the father began, but was quickly interrupted.

"Father, dear, don't say 'that air'--say 'that there,'" the daughter admonished.

"Well, this ear--" he again attempted, but was as quickly brought to a halt.

"Nor 'this 'ere'; 'this here' is correct," he was told.

The old gentleman rose with an angry snort. "Look here, Mary," he said. "Of course I know you have been to school and all that, but I reckon I know what I want to say, an' I am going to say it. I believe I feel cold in this ear from that air, and I'm going to shut the window!"

"If you please, sir?"

"Well, Jimmy?"

"Me grandmother, sir--"

"Aha, your grandmother! Go on, Jimmy."

"Me grandmother an' me mother--"