Among the Humorists and After Dinner Speakers, Vol. 1
Page 10
unusually attentive throughout the proceedings,and now the Judge was summing up the evidence.
"The evidence shows, Mrs. Maloney," he began, "that you threw a stoneat Policeman Casey."
"It shows more than that, yer Honor," interrupted Mrs. Maloney; "itshows that Oi hit him."
* * * * *
When Mark Twain was a young and struggling newspaper writer, in SanFrancisco, a lady of his acquaintance saw him one day with a cigar-boxunder his arm looking in a shop window.
"Mr. Clemens," she said, "I always see you with a cigar-box under yourarm. I am afraid you are smoking too much."
"It isn't that," said Mark. "I'm moving again."
* * * * *
A thunderstorm overtook the Emperor Francis Joseph of Austria when outshooting in 1873 with old Emperor William of Germany and VictorEmmanuel. The three monarchs got separated from their party and losttheir way. They were drenched to the skin, and, in search of shelter,hailed a peasant driving a covered cart drawn by oxen along the highroad. The peasant took up the royal trio and drove on.
"And who may you be, for you are a stranger in these parts?" he asked,after a while, of Emperor William.
"I am the Emperor of Germany," replied his Teutonic majesty.
"Ha, very good," said the peasant, and then, addressing VictorEmmanuel, "and you, my friend?"
"Why, I am the King of Italy," came the prompt reply.
"Ha, ha, very good, indeed! And who are you?" addressing FrancisJoseph.
"I am the Emperor of Austria," said the latter.
The peasant then scratched his head and said with a knowing wink:"Very good, and who do you suppose I am?"
Their majesties replied they would like very much to know.
"Why, I am his Holiness the Pope."
* * * * *
In a cemetery at Middlebury, Vt., is a stone, erected by a widow toher loving husband, bearing this inscription:
"Rest in peace--until we meet again."
* * * * *
Mrs. Gilroy, prominent in the church work of her small city, hadacquired a new servant, willing but ignorant.
"Bridget," she said, "I am going to lie down and do not wish to bedisturbed. If any one calls, do not say I am not at home, but give anevasive answer."
"What's that, mum?" said Bridget.
Having explained as well as she could, the good lady retired and laterappeared below stairs, much refreshed.
"Did any one call?" she asked.
"Yes, mum; the new minister, from your church."
"Oh, Bridget. What did you tell him?"
"Well," sez he, "is Mrs. Gilroy at home?" and I sez nuthin', and sezhe a little louder, "Is Mrs. Gilroy at home?" and sez I, "Was yourgrandmother a monkey?"
* * * * *
A young kindergarten teacher, of Manhattan, who is made much of by herpupils--frequently meeting their parents--has a very affable manner,and, on entering a Broadway car recently, exclaimed in her mostcordial way to one of the passengers: "Why, how do you do, Mr. Brown!"As the man addressed evidently did not know her and looked ratherdazed, she saw her mistake and hurriedly apologized, saying: "Oh, Ibeg your pardon-I thought you were the father of one of my children."
Then every one within hearing looked so amused that the young ladyleft the car at the next stop.
* * * * *
A Mr. Johnson, of Boston, was the owner of a small yacht, in which hetook much pleasure during the summer, cruising along the coast.
He had for a cook a young fellow from Denmark whose English was notalways perfect, but who made himself so generally useful that Mr.Johnson kept him for several years at good wages. One summer theylanded at a place where a camp-meeting was in full blast. Our friend,the Dane, was greatly interested and took a front seat.
Near the close of the meeting one of the brethren went about among thepeople exhorting them to "go forward." Coming to the Dane, he said,"My friend, don't you want to work for Jesus?"
"No," said the Dane, "I've got a good yob with Yohnson."
* * * * *
Johnny--"Pa, did Moses have the dyspepsia like you?"
Father--"How on earth do I know? What makes you ask such a question?"
"Why, our Sunday-school teacher says the Lord gave Moses two tablets."
* * * * *
Elderly Aunt--"I suppose you wondered, dear little Hans, why I leftyou so abruptly in the lane. I saw a man, and oh, how I ran!"
Hans--"Did you get him?"
* * * * *
A man returned home late one night after having partaken rather freelyof the "cup that cheers." All might have been well had not one treeintercepted between him and his destination--one solitary tree at thefoot of his own steps; but Mr. B---- suddenly came into such forciblecontact with that tree that he was almost stunned. After recoveringhis senses, he wandered about, but repeatedly bumped into the sameinoffensive barrier. At length he sank down on the ground and mutteredhelplessly:
"Lost! Lost! in an impenetrable forest!"
* * * * *
The intoxicated individual who, after bumping into the same treethirteen times, bemoaned the fact that he was lost in an impenetrableforest, is no greater disgrace to modern civilization than the hero ofthis story:
A citizen of Seattle who had looked upon the wine when he was nolonger sure what color it was, in the course of his journey homeencountered a tree protected by an iron tree-guard. Grasping the bars,he cautiously felt his way around it twice.
"Curse it!" he moaned, sinking to the ground in despair. "Locked in!"
* * * * *
Stanley, aged four, was one of a large family. Besides numeroussisters and brothers, there were aunts and uncles galore and manycousins. The only very young people, however, were those in hisimmediate household.
One Thanksgiving dinner Stanley gazed solemnly around the table for awhile, and then announced, oracularly:
"My mother and the cat seem to be the only people in this whole familythat have any children!"
* * * * *
A clergyman was being shaved by a barber, who had evidently becomeunnerved by the previous night's dissipation. Finally he cut theclergyman's chin. The latter looked up at the artist reproachfully,and said:
"You see, my man, what comes of hard drinking."
"Yes, sir," replied the barber consolingly, "it makes the skintender."
* * * * *
Mistress--"Did the mustard plaster do you any good, Bridget?"
Maid--"Yes; but, begorry, mum, ut do bite the tongue!"
* * * * *
They had just met; conversation was somewhat fitful. Finally hedecided to guide it into literary channels, where he was more at home,and, turning to his companion, asked:
"Are you fond of literature?"
"Passionately," she replied. "I love books dearly."
"Then you must admire Sir Walter Scott," he exclaimed with suddenanimation. "Is not his 'Lady of the Lake' exquisite in its flowinggrace and poetic imagery? Is it not--"
"It is perfectly lovely," she assented, clasping her hands in ecstasy."I suppose I have read it a dozen times."
"And Scott's 'Marmion,'" he continued, "with its rugged simplicity andmarvelous description--one can almost smell the heather on the heathwhile perusing its splendid pages."
"It is perfectly grand," she murmured.
"And Scott's 'Peveril of the Peak' and his noble 'Bride ofLammermoor'--where in the English language will you find anything moreheroic than his grand auld Scottish characters and his graphic,forceful pictures of feudal times and customs? You like them, I amsure."
"I just dote upon them," she replied.
"And Scott's Emulsion," he continued hastily, for a faint
suspicionwas beginning to dawn upon him.
"I think," she interrupted rashly, "that it's the best thing he everwrote."
* * * * *
"Why is Jones growing a beard?"
"Oh, I believe his wife made him a present of some ties."
* * * * *
Wife--"Do come over to Mrs. Barker's with me, John. She'll make youfeel just as if you were at home."
Her Husband--"Then what's the use of going?"
* * * * *
About forty years ago, walking down Market street, in this