More Toasts Part 72

"Men," answered Willie.

"And, the plural of child?"

"Twins," was the unexpected reply.

A colored woman one day visited the court-house in a Tennessee town and said to the judge:

"Is you-all the reperbate judge?"

"I am the judge of probate, mammy."

"I'se come to you-all 'cause I'se in trubble. Mah man--he's done died detested and I'se got t'ree little infidels so I'se c.u.m to be appointed der execootioner."

ENGLISHMEN

At a dinner in New York an Englishman heard for the first time and, probably after due explanation, was much amused by that "toasted"

chestnut:

"Here's to the happiest hours of my life,

"Spent in the arms of another man's wife:

"My mother."

Shortly after his return to England he was present at a banquet, and thought he would get off the New York toast he had considered so clever. At the proper time he rose and said:

"Here's to the happiest hours of my life,

"Spent in the arms of another man's wife:

"Spent in the arms of another man's wife--

"Another man's wife. Excuse me, I really cawn't recall the lady's name, but it doesn't matter."

ENTHUSIASM

A Soldier of color, recently "over there," had proposed to, and been accepted by his dusky sweetheart. During the marriage ceremony he showed such signs of nervousness that the minister, noticing it, whispered to him, in a voice which could have been heard half a mile:

"What's de mattah wif you Rastus, is yo dun los' yo' ring or sumpin?"

"N-no sah, Mr. Preacher," answered the ex-hero, "but I sho nuff dun los' mah 'thusiasm."

If a man lacks enthusiasm it takes him twice as long to accomplish a task.

A man who allows himself to be carried away with enthusiasm often has to walk back.

EPIGRAMS

An epigram is a twinkle in the eye of Truth.

Many a woman is blamed for making a fool of a man when he is really self-made.

Some men are like rusty needles; the best way to clean and brighten them is with work.

When one reaches the end of his rope, he should tie a knot in it and hang on.

EPITAPHS

_A Tired Woman's Epitaph_ _(Before 1850)_

Here lies a poor woman, Who always was tired; She lived in a house, Where help was not hired; Her last words on earth were, "Dear friends I am going; Where was.h.i.+ng ain't done, Nor sweeping nor sewing; But everything there is exact to my wishes, For where they don't eat, There's no was.h.i.+ng of dishes; I'll be where loud anthems will always be ringing; But having no voice, I'll be clear of the singing; Don't mourn for me now, don't mourn for me never, I'm going to do nothing, forever and ever."

Mrs. Whann, the weeping widow of a well-known man, requested that the words "My sorrow is greater than I can bear" be placed upon the marble slab of her dear departed.

A few months later the lady returned and asked how much it would cost her to have the inscription effaced and another subst.i.tuted.

"No need of that, marm," replied the man, soothingly; "you see, I left jes' enough room to add 'alone.'"

THE TOMBSTONE MAN (after several abortive suggestions)--"How would simply, 'Gone Home' do?"

MRS. NEWWEEDS--"I guess that would be all right. It was always the last place he ever thought of going."--_Puck_.