“By an unjust discrimination against quadrupeds I am made ineligible to a seat in your convention; so I am compelled to seek representation through you.”
“It will give me great pleasure, sir,” said the Owner of a Silver Mine, “to serve one so closely allied to me in—in—well, you know,” he added, with a significant gesture of his two hands upward from the sides of his head. “What do you want?”
“Oh, nothing—nothing at all for myself individually,” replied the Donkey; “but his country’s welfare should be a patriot’s supreme care. If Americans are to retain the sacred liberties for which their fathers strove, Congress must declare our independence of European dictation by maintaining the price of mules.”
The Dog and the Physician
A Dog that had seen a Physician attending the burial of a wealthy patient, said: “When do you expect to dig it up?”
“Why should I dig it up?” the Physician asked.
“When I bury a bone,” said the Dog, “it is with an intention to uncover it later and pick it.”
“The bones that I bury,” said the Physician, “are those that I can no longer pick.”
The Party Manager and the Gentleman
A Party Manager said to a Gentleman whom he saw minding his own business:
“How much will you pay for a nomination to office?”
“Nothing,” the Gentleman replied.
“But you will contribute something to the campaign fund to assist in your election, will you not?” asked the Party Manager, winking.
“Oh, no,” said the Gentleman, gravely. “If the people wish me to work for them, they must hire me without solicitation. I am very comfortable without office.”
“But,” urged the Party Manager, “an election is a thing to be desired. It is a high honour to be a servant of the people.”
“If servitude is a high honour,” the Gentleman said, “it would be indecent for me to seek it; and if obtained by my own exertion it would be no honour.”
“Well,” persisted the Party Manager, “you will at least, I hope, indorse the party platform.”
The Gentleman replied: “It is improbable that its authors have accurately expressed my views without consulting me; and if I indorsed their work without approving it I should be a liar.”
“You are a detestable hypocrite and an idiot!” shouted the Party Manager.
“Even your good opinion of my fitness,” replied the Gentleman, “shall not persuade me.”
The Legislator and the Citizen
An ex-Legislator asked a Most Respectable Citizen for a letter to the Governor recommending him for appointment as Commissioner of Shrimps and Crabs.
“Sir,” said the Most Respectable Citizen, austerely, “were you not once in the State Senate?”
“Not so bad as that, sir, I assure you,” was the reply. “I was a member of the Slower House. I was expelled for selling my influence for money.”
“And you dare to ask for mine!” shouted the Most Respectable Citizen. “You have the impudence? A man who will accept bribes will probably offer them. Do you mean to—”
“I should not think of making a corrupt proposal to you, sir; but if I were Commissioner of Shrimps and Crabs, I might have some influence with the water-front population, and be able to help you make your fight for Coroner.”
“In that case I do not feel justified in denying you the letter.”
So he took his pen, and, some demon guiding his hand, he wrote, greatly to his astonishment:
“Who sells his influence should stop it,
An honest man will only swap it.”
The Rainmaker
An Officer of the Government, with a great outfit of mule-waggons loaded with balloons, kites, dynamite bombs, and electrical apparatus, halted in the midst of a desert, where there had been no rain for ten years, and set up a camp. After several months of preparation and an expenditure of a million dollars all was in readiness, and a series of tremendous explosions occurred on the earth and in the sky. This was followed by a great down-pour of rain, which washed the unfortunate Officer of the Government and the outfit off the face of creation and affected the agricultural heart with joy too deep for utterance. A Newspaper Reporter who had just arrived escaped by climbing a hill near by, and there he found the Sole Survivor of the expedition—a mule-driver—down on his knees behind a mesquite bush, praying with extreme fervour.
“Oh, you can’t stop it that way,” said the Reporter.
“My fellow-traveller to the bar of God,” replied the Sole Survivor, looking up over his shoulder, “your understanding is in darkness. I am not stopping this great blessing; under Providence, I am bringing it.”
“That is a pretty good joke,” said the Reporter, laughing as well as he could in the strangling rain—“a mule driver’s prayer answered!”
“Child of levity and scoffing,” replied the other; “you err again, misled by these humble habiliments. I am the Rev. Ezekiel Thrifft, a minister of the gospel, now in the service of the great manufacturing firm of Skinn & Sheer. They make balloons, kites, dynamite bombs, and electrical apparatus.”
The Citizen and the Snakes
A Public-Spirited Citizen who had failed miserably in trying to secure a National political convention for his city suffered acutely from dejection. While in that frame of mind he leaned thoughtlessly against a druggist’s show-window, wherein were one hundred and fifty kinds of assorted snakes. The glass breaking, the reptiles all escaped into the street.
“When you can’t do what you wish,” said the Public-spirited Citizen, “it is worth while to do what you can.”
Fortune and the Fabulist
A Writer of Fables was passing through a lonely forest when he met a Fortune. Greatly alarmed, he tried to climb a tree, but the Fortune pulled him down and bestowed itself upon him with cruel persistence.
“Why did you try to run away?” said the Fortune, when his struggles had ceased and his screams were stilled. “Why do you glare at me so inhospitably?”
“I don’t know what you are,” replied the Writer of Fables, deeply disturbed.
“I am wealth; I am respectability,” the Fortune explained; “I am elegant houses, a yacht, and a clean shirt every day. I am leisure, I am travel, wine, a shiny hat, and an unshiny coat. I am enough to eat.”
“All right,” said the Writer of Fables, in a whisper; “but for goodness’ sake speak lower.”
“Why so?” the Fortune asked, in surprise.
“So as not to wake me,” replied the Writer of Fables, a holy calm brooding upon his beautiful face.
A Smiling Idol
An Idol said to a Missionary, “My friend, why do you seek to bring me into contempt? If it had not been for me, what would you have been? Remember thy creator that thy days be long in the land.”
“I confess,” replied the Missionary, fingering a number of ten-cent pieces which a Sunday-school in his own country had forwarded to him, “that I am a product of you, but I protest that you cannot quote Scripture with accuracy and point. Therefore will I continue to go up against you with the Sword of the Spirit.”
Shortly afterwards the Idol’s worshippers held a great religious ceremony at the base of his pedestal, and as a part of the rites the Missionary was roasted whole. As the tongue was removed for the high priest’s table, “Ah,” said the Idol to himself, “that is the Sword of the Spirit—the only Sword that is less dangerous when unsheathed.”
And he smiled so pleasantly at his own wit that the provinces of Ghargaroo, M’gwana, and Scowow were affected with a blight.
Philosophers Three
A Bear, a Fox, and an Opossum were attacked by an inundation.
“Death loves a coward,” said the Bear, and went forward to fight the flood.
“What a fool!” said the Fox. “I know a trick worth two of that.” And he slipped into a hollow stump.
“There are malevolent forces,” said the Opossum, “which the wise will neither confront nor avoid. T
he thing is to know the nature of your antagonist.”
So saying the Opossum lay down and pretended to be dead.
The Boneless King
Some Apes who had deposed their king fell at once into dissension and anarchy. In this strait they sent a Deputation to a neighbouring tribe to consult the Oldest and Wisest Ape in All the World.
“My children,” said the Oldest and Wisest Ape in All the World, when he had heard the Deputation, “you did right in ridding yourselves of tyranny, but your tribe is not sufficiently advanced to dispense with the forms of monarchy. Entice the tyrant back with fair promises, kill him and enthrone. The skeleton of even the most lawless despot makes a good constitutional sovereign.”
At this the Deputation was greatly abashed. “It is impossible,” they said, moving away; “our king has no skeleton; he was stuffed.”
Uncalculating Zeal
A Man-Eating tiger was ravaging the Kingdom of Damnasia, and the King, greatly concerned for the lives and limbs of his Royal subjects, promised his daughter Zodroulra to any man who would kill the animal. After some days Camaraladdin appeared before the King and claimed the reward.
“But where is the tiger?” the King asked.
“May jackasses sing above my uncle’s grave,” replied Camaraladdin, “if I dared go within a league of him!”
“Wretch!” cried the King, unsheathing his consoler-under-disappointment; “how dare you claim my daughter when you have done nothing to earn her?”
“Thou art wiser, O King, than Solyman the Great, and thy servant is as dust in the tomb of thy dog, yet thou errest. I did not, it is true, kill the tiger, but behold! I have brought thee the scalp of the man who had accumulated five million pieces of gold and was after more.”
The King drew his consoler-under-disappointment, and, flicking off Camaraladdin’s head, said:
“Learn, caitiff, the expediency of uncalculating zeal. If the millionaire had been let alone he would have devoured the tiger.”
A Transposition
Travelling through the sage-brush country a Jackass met a rabbit, who exclaimed in great astonishment:
“Good heavens! how did you grow so big? You are doubtless the largest rabbit living.”
“No,” said the Jackass, “you are the smallest donkey.”
After a good deal of fruitless argument the question was referred for decision to a passing Coyote, who was a bit of a demagogue and desirous to stand well with both.
“Gentlemen,” said he, “you are both right, as was to have been expected by persons so gifted with appliances for receiving instruction from the wise. You, sir,”—turning to the superior animal—“are, as he has accurately observed, a rabbit. And you”—to the other—“are correctly described as a jackass. In transposing your names man has acted with incredible folly.”
They were so pleased with the decision that they declared the Coyote their candidate for the Grizzly Bearship; but whether he ever obtained the office history does not relate.
The Honest Citizen
A Political Preferment, labelled with its price, was canvassing the State to find a purchaser. One day it offered itself to a Truly Good Man, who, after examining the label and finding the price was exactly twice as great as he was willing to pay, spurned the Political Preferment from his door. Then the People said: “Behold, this is an honest citizen!” And the Truly Good Man humbly confessed that it was so.
A Creaking Tail
An American Statesman who had twisted the tail of the British Lion until his arms ached was at last rewarded by a sharp, rasping sound.
“I knew your fortitude would give out after a while,” said the American Statesman, delighted; “your agony attests my political power.”
“Agony I know not!” said the British Lion, yawning; “the swivel in my tail needs a few drops of oil, that is all.”
Wasted Sweets
A Candidate canvassing his district met a Nurse wheeling a Baby in a carriage, and, stooping, imprinted a kiss upon the Baby’s clammy muzzle. Rising, he saw a Man, who laughed.
“Why do you laugh?” asked the Candidate.
“Because,” replied the Man, “the Baby belongs to the Orphan Asylum.”
“But the Nurse,” said the Candidate—“the Nurse will surely relate the touching incident wherever she goes, and perhaps write to her former master.”
“The Nurse,” said the Man who had laughed, “is an inmate of the Institution for the Illiterate-Deaf-and-Dumb.”
Six and One
The Committee on Gerrymander worked late, drawing intricate lines on a map of the State, and being weary sought repose in a game of poker. At the close of the game the six Republican members were bankrupt and the single Democrat had all the money. On the next day, when the Committee was called to order for business, one of the luckless six mounted his legs, and said:
“Mr. Chairman, before we bend to our noble task of purifying politics, in the interest of good government I wish to say a word of the untoward events of last evening. If my memory serves me the disasters which overtook the Majority of this honourable body always befell when it was the Minority’s deal. It is my solemn conviction, Mr. Chairman, and to its affirmation I pledge my life, my fortune, and my sacred honour, that that wicked and unscrupulous Minority redistricted the cards!”
The Sportsman and the Squirrel
A Sportsman who had wounded a Squirrel, which was making desperate efforts to drag itself away, ran after it with a stick, exclaiming:
“Poor thing! I will put it out of its misery.”
At that moment the Squirrels stopped from exhaustion, and looking up at its enemy, said:
“I don’t venture to doubt the sincerity of your compassion, though it comes rather late, but you seem to lack the faculty of observation. Do you not perceive by my actions that the dearest wish of my heart is to continue in my misery?”
At this exposure of his hypocrisy, the Sportsman was so overcome with shame and remorse that he would not strike the Squirrel, but pointing it out to his dog, walked thoughtfully away.
The Fogy and the Sheik
A Fogy who lived in a cave near a great caravan route returned to his home one day and saw, near by, a great concourse of men and animals, and in their midst a tower, at the foot of which something with wheels smoked and panted like an exhausted horse. He sought the Sheik of the Outfit.
“What sin art thou committing now, O son of a Christian dog?” said the Fogy, with a truly Oriental politeness.
“Boring for water, you black-and-tan galoot!” replied the Sheik of the Outfit, with that ready repartee which distinguishes the Unbeliever.
“Knowest thou not, thou whelp of darkness and father of disordered livers,” cried the Fogy, “that water will cause grass to spring up here, and trees, and possibly even flowers? Knowest thou not, that thou art, in truth, producing an oasis?”
“And don’t you know,” said the Sheik of the Outfit, “that caravans will then stop here for rest and refreshments, giving you a chance to steal the camels, the horses, and the goods?”
“May the wild hog defile my grave, but thou speakest wisdom!” the Fogy replied, with the dignity of his race, extending his hand. “Sheik.”
They shook.
At Heaven’s Gate
Having arisen from the tomb, a Woman presented herself at the gate of Heaven, and knocked with a trembling hand.
“Madam,” said Saint Peter, rising and approaching the wicket, “whence do you come?”
“From San Francisco,” replied the Woman, with embarrassment, as great beads of perspiration spangled her spiritual brow.
“Never mind, my good girl,” the Saint said, compassionately. “Eternity is a long time; you can live that down.”
“But that, if you please, is not all.” The Woman was growing more and more confused. “I poisoned my husband. I chopped up my babies. I—”
“Ah,” said the Saint, with sudden austerity, “your confession suggests a very grave possibility. Were
you a member of the Women’s Press Association?”
The lady drew herself up and replied with warmth:
“I was not.”
The gates of pearl and jasper swung back upon their golden hinges, making the most ravishing music, and the Saint, stepping aside, bowed low, saying:
“Enter, then, into thine eternal rest.”
But the Woman hesitated.
“The poisoning—the chopping—the—the—” she stammered.
“Of no consequence, I assure you. We are not going to be hard on a lady who did not belong to the Women’s Press Association. Take a harp.”
“But I applied for membership—I was blackballed.”
“Take two harps.”
The Catted Anarchist
An Anarchist Orator who had been struck in the face with a Dead Cat by some Respector of Law to him unknown, had the Dead Cat arrested and taken before a Magistrate.
“Why do you appeal to the law?” said the Magistrate—“You who go in for the abolition of law.”
“That,” replied the Anarchist, who was not without a certain hardness of head, “that is none of your business; I am not bound to be consistent. You sit here to do justice between me and this Dead Cat.”
“Very well,” said the Magistrate, putting on the black cap and a solemn look; “as the accused makes no defence, and is undoubtedly guilty, I sentence her to be eaten by the public executioner; and as that position happens to be vacant, I appoint you to it, without bonds.”
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