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by Ernest Bramah


  "Well, what is your sentence, Tommy?" asked the teacher.

  "Father wore his trousers out, but notwithstanding."

  TILDA--"Pass the 'lasses."

  LIZZIE (who has attended school)--"Don't say ''lasses.' Say molasses."

  TILDA--"How come I say mo' 'lasses when I ain't had none yet?"

  _Jailless Crimes_

  Killing time. Hanging pictures. Stealing bases. Shooting the chutes. Choking off a speaker. Running over a new song. Smothering a laugh. Setting fire to a heart. Knifing a performance. Murdering the English language.--_Judge_.

  "Now, boys," said the schoolmaster, "I want you to bear in mind thatthe word 'stan' at the end of a word means 'the place of.' Thus wehave Afghanistan--the place of the Afghans; also Hindustan--the placeof the Hindus. Can any one give me another example?"

  Nobody appeared very anxious to do so, until little Johnny Snaggs, thejoy of his mother and the terror of the cats, said proudly--

  "Yes, sir, I can. Umbrellastan--the place for umbrellas."

  He went into a shop to buy a comb. He was a man careful of otherpeople's grammar, and believed himself to be careful of his own.

  "Do you want a narrow man's comb?" asked the assistant.

  "No," answered the careful grammarian, "I want a comb for a stout manwith tortoiseshell teeth."

  TEACHER--"Thomas, will you tell me what a conjunction is, and composea sentence containing one?"

  THOMAS (after reflection)--"A conjunction is a word connectinganything, such as 'The horse is hitched to the fence by his halter.''Halter' is a conjunction, because it connects the horse and thefence."

  A young man poured out a long story of adventure to a Boston girl.Surprised, she asked:

  "Did you really do that?"

  "I done it," answered the proud young man. He began another narrative,more startling than the first.

  When she again expressed her surprise, he said, with inflated chest,"I done it."

  "Do you know," remarked the girl, "you remind me strongly of Banquo'sGhost?"

  "Why?"

  "Don't you remember that Macbeth said to him, 'Thou canst not say, "Idid it"'?" and the young man wondered why everybody laughed.

  An English professor, traveling through the hills, noted variousquaint expressions. For instance, after a long ride the professorsought provisions at a mountain hut.

  "What d' yo'-all want?" called out a woman.

  "Madam," said the professor, "can we get corn bread here? We'd like tobuy some of you."

  "Corn bread? Corn bread, did yo' say?" Then she chuckled to herself,and her manner grew amiable. "Why, if corn bread's all yo' want, comeright in, for that's just what I hain't got nothing else on hand but."

  Charles B. Towns, the antidrug champion, spent some time in Chinaseveral years ago with Samuel Merwin, the writer. In a Hongkongshop-window they noticed some Chinese house-coats of particularlystriking designs and stepped in to purchase one. Mr. Towns asked Mr.Merwin to do the bargaining.

  "Wantum coatee," said Mr. Merwin to the sleepy-eyed Oriental whoshuffled up with a grunt. He placed several of the coats before them.

  "How muchee Melican monee?" inquired Mr. Merwin.

  "It would aid me in transacting this sale," said the Chinaman, "if youwould confine your language to your mother tongue. The coat is sevendollars."

  Mr. Merwin took it.

  Grace's uncle met her on the street one spring day and asked herwhether she was going out with a picnic party from her school.

  "No," replied his eight-year-old niece, "I ain't going."

  "My dear," said the uncle, "you must not say, 'I ain't going.' Youmust say, 'I am not going.'" And he proceeded to give her a littlelesson in grammar: "'You are not going. He is not going. We are notgoing. You are not going. They are not going.' Now, can you say allthat?"

  "Sure I can," responded Grace quite heartily. "There ain't nobodygoing."--_Harper's_.

  "What is the plural of man, Willie?" asked the teacher of a smallpupil.

  "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 townand 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 donedied detested and I'se got t'ree little infidels so I'se cum to beappointed 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 soclever. 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'sname, but it doesn't matter."

  ENTHUSIASM

  A Soldier of color, recently "over there," had proposed to, and beenaccepted by his dusky sweetheart. During the marriage ceremony heshowed 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 dunlos' mah 'thusiasm."

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

  A man who allows himself to be carried away with enthusiasm often hasto 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 reallyself-made.

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

  When one reaches the end of his rope, he should tie a knot in it andhang 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 washing ain't done, Nor sweeping nor sewing; But everything there is exact to my wishes, For where they don't eat, There's no washing 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 thewords "My sorrow is greater than I can bear" be placed upon the marbleslab of her dear departed.

  A few months later the lady returned and asked how much it would costher to have the inscription effaced and another substituted.

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

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

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

  Here lies my wife: here let her lie! Now she's at rest, and so am I.

  --_John Dryden_.

  "Did you hear about the defacement of Mr. Skinner's tombstone?" askedMr. Brown a few days after the funeral of that eminent captain ofindustry.

  "No, what was it?" inquired his neighbor curiously.

  "Someone added the word 'friends' to the epitaph."

  "What was the epitaph?"

  "He did his best."

  EQUALITY

  In a mood for companionship with none at hand, a New Yorker was makingher wa
y through a quiet down town cross street to an East Side subway.As she approached a team of horses standing by the curb, the nearerof the pair looked her straight in the eye man-to-man like. No driverbeing in sight she took from her pocket some lumps of sugar (reservedas a tip for the ice-horse) and fed and fondled and talked foolishlyto her friend of the curb. Looking up before turning to the secondhorse, she was confused and startled to find a brisk young driver,reins in hand, looking ready to tear up the pavements in a mad rushto Jersey or somewhere. She hurried off to escape his wrath at beingdelayed. The angry words flung after her were: "The other one ain't nostepchild."

  And the horses galloped off equally sugared.

  ETIQUET

  "Frances," said the little girl's mamma, who was entertaining callersin the parlor, "you came downstairs so noisily that you could be heardall over the house. Now go back and come down stairs like a lady."

  Frances retired and after a few moments re-entered the parlor.

  "Did you hear me come downstairs this time, mamma?"

  "No dear; I am glad you came down quietly. Now, don't ever let me haveto tell you again not to come down noisily. Now tell these ladies howyou managed to come down like a lady the second time, when the firsttime you made so much noise."

  "The last time I slid down the banisters," explained Frances.

  Hearts, like doors, can ope with ease To very, very little keys, And don't forget that they are these "I thank you, Sir"; and, "If you please."

  _Unseen, Unheard_

  TEACHER--"What does a well-bred child do when a visitor calls to seeher mother?"

  CHILD--"Me--I go play in the street."

  HOSTESS (at party)--"Does your mother allow you to have two pieces ofpie when you are at home, Willie?"

  WILLIE (who has asked for a second piece)--"No, ma'am."

  "Well, do you think she'd like you to have two pieces here?"

  "Oh," confidentially, "she wouldn't care. This isn't her pie!"

  "I can't understand this code of ethics."

  "What code is that?"

  "The one which makes it all right to take a man's last dollar, but abreach of etiquette to take his last cigaret."

  Tom Johnson claims that the oldest joke is the one about the Irishsoldier who saw a shell coming and made a low bow. The shell missedhim and took off the head of the man behind him. "Sure," said Pat, "yenever knew a man to lose anything by being polite."

  EUROPEAN WAR

  War is evidently a losing game when it takes a country forty-two yearsto pay for what she destroyed in a little more than four.

  A dusky doughboy, burdened under tons of medals and miles and miles ofribbons, service and wound chevrons, stars et al., encountered a27th Division scrapper in Le Mans a few days prior to the division'sdeparture for the States.

  "Whar yo' all ben scrappin' in dis yar war, boss?" meekly inquired thecolored soldier.

  "Why, we've been fighting up in Belgium and Flanders with theBritish," replied the New Yorker, proudly.

  "Well, we ben down in dem woods--watcha call 'em woods 'way downsouth."

  "The Argonne?" suggested young Knickerbocker.

  "Yas, yas, dem's de woods--d'Argonne."

  "You know our division was the first to break the Hindenburg line,colored boy," explained the 27th man.

  "Was it you wot did dat trick? Y' know boss, we felt dat ol' line sag'way down in d'Argonne."

  WILLIS--"Did the war do anything for you?"

  GILLIS--"Sure did. It taught me to save peach-stones, tin-foil,newspapers and all kinds of junk. In fact, I can now save anythingexcept money."

  Just before the St. Mihiel show the Germans blew up an ammunitiondump near a company of Yanks. It was reported that there was a largequantity of gas shells in the dump, and as soon as the explosionsbegan the Americans immediately made themselves scarce with greatrapidity.

  When the danger had passed all started drifting back with theexception of one man who did not appear till the next day.

  "Well, where you been?" demanded the top kick, eyeing him coldly.

  "Sergeant," replied the other earnestly, "I don't know where I been,but I give you my word I been all day gettin' back."

  "Who won the war?" asked the bright young goof behind thesoda-counter.

  "Huh," ejaculated the ex-sergeant gruffly as he dug up the war-tax, "Ithink we bought it."

  A librarian confides to us that she was visited by a young lady whowished to see a large map of France. She was writing a paper on thebattle-fields of France for a culture club, and she just couldn't findFlanders Fields and No Man's Land on any of the maps in her books.

  The trouble with the peace table is that the Allies want it _a lacarte_, and Wilson wants it American plan--_table d'hote_.

  _See also_ Exaggeration; Heroes; Soldiers; War.

  EUROPEAN WAR--POEMS

  _Gifts of the Dead_

  Ye who in Sorrow's tents abide, Mourning your dead with hidden tears, Bethink ye what a wealth of pride They've won you for the coming years.

  Grievous the pain; but, in the day When all the cost is counted o'er, Would it be best that ye should say: "We lost no loved ones in the war?"

  Who knows? But proud then shall ye stand That best, most honored boast to make: "My lover died for his dear land," Or, "My son fell for England's sake."

  Christlike they died that we might live; And our redeemed lives would we bring, With aught that gratitude may give To serve you in your sorrowing.

  And never a pathway shall ye tread, No foot of seashore, hill, or lea, But ye may think: "The dead, my dead, Gave this, a sacred gift, to me."

  --_Habberton Lulhaut_.

  The war is like the Judgment Day-- All sham, all pretext torn away; And swift the searching hours reveal Hearts good as gold, souls true as steel. Blest saints and martyrs in disguise, Concealed ere-while from holden eyes.

  And now we feel that all around Have angels walked the well-known ground; Not winged and strange beyond our ken, But in the form of common men. God's messengers from Heaven's own sphere-- Unrecognized because so near.

  --_Ella Fuller Maitland_.

  _For Thee They Died_

  For thee their pilgrim swords were tried, Thy flaming word was in their scrips, They battled, they endured, they died To make a new Apocalypse. Master and Maker, God of Right, The soldier dead are at thy gate, Who kept the spears of honor bright And freedom's house inviolate.

  --_John Drinkwater_.

  _After-Days_.

  When the last gun has long withheld Its thunder, and its mouth is sealed, Strong men shall drive the furrow straight On some remembered battle-field.

  Untroubled they shall hear the loud. And gusty driving of the rains, And birds with immemorial voice Sing as of old in leafy lanes.

  The stricken, tainted soil shall be Again a flowery paradise-- Pure with the memory of the dead And purer for their sacrifice.

  --_Eric Chilman_.

  EVIDENCE

  An attorney was defending a man charged by his wife with desertion.For a time it looked as tho it were a cinch for the prosecution, butat the psychological moment the attorney called the defendant to thestand. "Take off that bandage," he cried, and the man did it, exposinga black eye. "Your honor," said the attorney, "our defense is thatthis man is not a deserter. He's a refugee."

  The London police-sergeant raised his eyes from the blotter as twopolicemen propelled the resisting victim before him.

  "A German spy, sir!" gasped the first bobby.

  "I'm an American, and can prove it," denied the victim.

  "That's what he says, but here's the evidence," interrupted the secondbobby, triumphantly producing a bulky hotel-register from beneath hisarm, and pointing to an entry.

  "V. Gates," written in a flowing hand, was the record that met theastonished sergeant's gaze.

  It happened in the court-room
during the trial of a husky young manwho was charged with assault and battery. Throughout an especiallysevere cross-examination the defendant stoutly maintained that he hadmerely pushed the plaintiff "a little bit."

  "Well, about how hard?" queried the prosecutor.

  "Oh, just a little bit," responded the defendant.

  "Now," said the attorney, "for the benefit of the judge and thejury, you will please step down here and, with me for the subject,illustrate just how hard you mean."

  Owing to the unmerciful badgering which the witness had just beenthrough, the prosecutor thought that the young man would perhapsoverdo the matter to get back at him, and thus incriminate himself.

  The defendant descended as per schedule, and approached the waitingattorney. When he reached him the spectators were astonished to seehim slap the lawyer in the face, kick him in the shins, seize himbodily, and, finally, with a supreme effort, lift him from the floorand hurl him prostrate across a table.

  Turning from the bewildered prosecutor, he faced the court andexplained mildly:

  "Your honor and gentlemen, about one-tenth that hard!"

  An aged negro was crossing-tender at a spot where an express trainmade quick work of a buggy and its occupants. Naturally he was thechief witness, and the entire case hinged upon the energy with whichhe had displayed his warning signal.

 

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