Bartlett's Book of Anecdotes

by Clifton Fadiman

  4 James had dinner with Guy de Maupassant in a restaurant, where the French writer saw an interesting-looking woman nearby and asked James to “get her for me.” James demurred, noting the English custom of needing proper introductions. De Maupassant then saw another woman, and asked to meet her. Again James declined. After several such tries, de Maupassant snapped at James, “Really, you don’t seem to know anyone in London!”

  5 As they were driving in her new car, Edith Wharton mentioned to James that it had been bought with the proceeds of her last novel. James then replied, “With the proceeds of my last novel I purchased a small go-cart, or hand-barrow, on which my guests’ luggage is wheeled from the station to my house. It needs a coat of paint. With the proceeds from my next novel I shall have it painted.”

  6 At dinner with his sister Alice in Florence, he developed a severe pain in his throat. Having recently had a toothache, he arranged to go to the dentist the next day. All through the night he suffered; even the dentist was unable to alleviate the discomfort. So he went to a doctor, who looked into his throat and exclaimed, “Why, you have got something sticking in it and it is green!” He pulled and pulled; out came a very long string bean, which had become wrapped around the root of his tongue.

  7 When James suffered his first stroke, he thought he was dying. He told a friend that the thought had come into his mind: “So it has come at last — the Distinguished Thing.” He lived for a further three months.

  8 After James’s stroke the literary establishment rallied around and recommended him for the Order of Merit. When the honor was announced, Sir Edmund Gosse went to his bedside to deliver the news. James paid him no attention, apparently not even taking in the honor that was being paid him, but after Gosse had left, the invalid called out, “Nurse, take away the candle and spare my blushes.”

  JAMES, Jesse (1847–82), US train- and bank-robber.

  1 On one occasion Jesse James and his gang sought food and rest at a lonely farmhouse. The woman there gave them what food she could and apologized for the poor hospitality. A widow and deeply in debt, she was even then waiting for the debt collector to visit her to demand $1,400, which she could not possibly afford to pay. Jesse James had the spoils of one of his bank raids with him. He gave the astonished woman enough money to pay off her debt, telling her to be sure to get a receipt from the debt collector. Then he and his gang withdrew to watch the road leading to the farmhouse. Along came the debt collector, looking very grim. A short while later he emerged from the farm, looking altogether more pleased with himself. Jesse James and his men stopped him, recovered their $1,400, and rode off.

  2 The St. Louis-Texas express train was robbed by Jesse James’s gang on January 31, 1874. As they boarded the train, one of the gang members handed the conductor an envelope. It contained the following press release, which appeared in the newspapers the next day: “THE MOST DARING TRAIN ROBBERY ON RECORD! The southbound train of the Iron Mountain Railroad was stopped here this evening by five heavily armed men and robbed of ——— dollars. The robbers arrived at the station a few minutes after the arrival of the train, arrested the agent, put him under guard and then threw the train on the switch. The robbers were all large men, all being slightly under six feet. After robbing the train they started in a southerly direction. They were all mounted on handsome horses. P.S. There is a hell of an excitement in this part of the country.”

  In England in the years following World War I, the universal obsession was dancing — as Thomas Beecham once described it, “a funeral assemblage of creatures, tightly packed together in an exiguous space, bumping and banging into one another, hardly moving the while and all looking as if they were practicing some painful penitential exercise.” Beecham in turn related a French diplomat’s comment on the phenomenon, “Les visages sont si tristes, mais les derrières sont si gais.”

  — THOMAS BEECHAM, A Mingled Chime

  JAMES, William (1842–1910), US philosopher and psychologist, brother of Henry James.

  1 Josiah Royce, who succeeded James in the Harvard chair of philosophy, was among a group of philosophers who were close personal friends of James, even though they might disagree on philosophical matters. On one occasion Royce was standing in for James at a lecture, using the latter’s copies of texts for reference. He picked up one of his own works, opened it at a page marked by James, was about to read from it, then paused. After a long look at the passage, he glanced up at the class, smiled, and said, “Gentlemen, the marginal note says ‘Damn fool!’ ”

  2 At Radcliffe, Gertrude Stein was a favorite pupil of William James. Confronted with an exam paper the day after a session of opera-going and parties, she wrote on her paper, “Dear Professor James, I am so sorry but I do not feel a bit like writing an examination paper on philosophy today.” James wrote back, “Dear Miss Stein, I understand perfectly. I often feel like that myself.”

  3 James was walking along a Cambridge, Massachusetts, street accompanied by a pair of his students, a boy and a girl. A large, imposing figure, white-bearded, swinging his cane, talking to himself, oblivious to the others, approached them. Remarked the girl: “Whoever he is, he’s the epitome of the absent-minded professor.” “What you really mean,” said James, “is that he is present-minded somewhere else.”

  4 Professor James was once asked by a young writer what his views were about the use of dictation in writing. “Never dictate any of your creative work,” the professor answered. “Now let me tell you, I have a brother [Henry James] who used to be a pretty good novelist. But of late he has taken to dictating his stuff, and it has ruined his style. I can’t read him anymore!”

  JAMES I (1566–1625), king of England and Ireland (1603–25) and, as James VI, king of Scotland (1567–1625). The son of the luckless Mary, Queen of Scots.

  1 Shortly after ascending the throne of England, James was attending the hearing of a court case. The counsel for the plaintiff spoke so eloquently that when he had finished, James said, “ ’Tis a clear case,” and made as if to leave the court. His advisers insisted that he stay and hear the other side, which the king with a bad grace agreed to do. The counsel for the defendant also spoke very eloquently. When he had finished, James jumped to his feet, crying out, “They are all rogues alike,” and left the courtroom.

  2 A preacher as renowned for his fearless attacks on personalities and abuses as James was for his irresolution was invited to preach before the king. He entered the pulpit and gave as his text: “James One, Six. ‘But let him ask in faith, nothing wavering. For he that wavereth is like a wave of the sea, driven with the wind and tossed.’” “God’s faith!” exclaimed the monarch. “He’s at me already.”

  3 A young girl was presented to James I as a prodigy. Impressed by her proficiency in Latin, Greek, and Hebrew, the king was not without reservation. “These are rare attainments for a damsel,” he remarked, “but pray tell me, can she spin?”

  JARRY, Alfred (1873–1907), French surrealist writer.

  1 Jarry demonstrated his eccentricity one day in a Paris restaurant. Wishing to communicate with a woman fellow diner who was engaged in staring contemplatively at her reflection in a mirror on the wall, Jarry drew out a pistol and shot at the mirror. In the stunned silence that followed Jarry repock-eted the pistol and smiled engagingly. “Now that the mirror is gone,” he said to the lady, “can we talk to each other?”

  2 Another time Jarry fired his pistol into a hedge. From behind it appeared a furious woman shouting, “My child is playing here. You might have killed him!”

  “Madame, I would have given you another!” responded Jarry gallantly.

  3 Jarry was a small man, only five feet tall. In his room on the mantel he displayed an enormous stone phallus. A lady visitor inquired if this were a cast. Jarry at once rapped out, “No, madame, it is a re-duc-tion.”

  4 One night Jarry was stopped in the street by man who asked for a light. Jarry said politely, “Voilà,” pulled out his pistol and shot it in the air.

&nb
sp; JEFFERSON, Joseph (1829–1905), US actor.

  1 (Jefferson once told this story to a friend:)

  “ ‘I was coming down the elevator of the Stock Exchange building, and at one of the intermediate floors a man whose face I knew as well as I know yours got in. He greeted me very warmly at once, said it was a number of years since we had met, and was very gracious and friendly, but I couldn’t place him for the life of me. I asked him as a sort of feeler how he happened to be in New York, and he answered, with a touch of surprise, that he had lived there for several years. Finally, I told him in an apologetic way that I couldn’t recall his name. He looked at me for a moment and then he said very quietly that his name was U. S. Grant.’

  “ ‘What did you do, Joe?’ his friend asked.

  “‘Do?’ he replied, with a characteristic smile. ‘Why, I got out at the next floor for fear I’d ask him if he had ever been in the war.’”

  JEFFERSON, Thomas (1743–1826), US statesman, chief author of the Declaration of Independence (1776), and 3d President of the United States (1801–09).

  1 While Jefferson and his mother were away from home, the house caught fire and was destroyed with all its contents. One of their slaves came to report the bad news. “Not one of my books saved?” cried Jefferson in distress. The slave shook his head: “No, master — but we saved the fiddle.”

  2 The young widow Martha Skelton, whom Jefferson married in 1772, had many suitors. Two gentlemen among their number decided to visit her together. Arriving at her house, they heard as they stood in the hall the sound of music — a violin accompanied by a harpsichord, and a lady and a gentleman singing. At once the gentlemen realized who it was: Jefferson was the only violinist in the vicinity. Acknowledging to each other that they were wasting their time, they stole out of the house and returned home.

  3 When Jefferson arrived to represent his country in France in 1785, he went to pay his respects to the French minister for foreign affairs. “You replace Monsieur Franklin?” asked the minister.

  “I succeed him,” was Jefferson’s reply. “No one can replace him.”

  4 While ambassador to France, Jefferson and the naturalist Georges Buffon disagreed on the physical properties of certain animals, including the moose, which was then common in New England. Jefferson wrote to a friend in New Hampshire, who sent him the entire skeleton of a moose he had shot for the purpose. When it arrived Jefferson showed it to Buffon, who acknowledged his error. “I should have consulted you,” said Buffon, “before publishing my book on natural history, and then I should have been sure of my facts.”

  5 Jefferson often told how the Declaration of Independence had been ratified and signed so quickly. The committee overseeing the document had their rooms near a stable, and members were much annoyed by constant swarms of biting flies who were adept at getting into their leggings. So impatient did the members become, waving at the flies and running from their aggressions, that their hurry to be done with the pestilential place insured the Declaration’s signing.

  6 During his term as vice president, Jefferson once asked for a room in Baltimore’s principal hotel. Not recognizing the vice president, who had no servants with him and was dressed in soiled working clothes, the proprietor, a Mr. Boyden, turned him away. Soon after Jefferson’s departure, Boyden was informed that he had just sent away the vice president. Horrified, Boyden promptly dispatched a number of his servants to find Jefferson and offer him as many rooms as he required. Jefferson had already taken a room at another hotel and sent the man who found him back with the message: “Tell Boyden that I value his good intentions highly, but if he has no room for a dirty farmer, he shall have none for the vice president.”

  7 One morning Thomas Jefferson woke up in a modest Washington rooming house, dressed, and then left the house in order to attend his inauguration as the third President. When he got back, duly sworn in, he found no space left for him at the dinner table. Quietly accepting the democratic principle of first come, first served, the President of the United States went up to his room without dinner.

  8 In bygone days affairs of state were tackled with a good deal less frenetic haste than they are today, as this remark by Thomas Jefferson, speaking of the US minister to Spain, illustrates: “I haven’t heard from him in two years. If I don’t hear from him next year, I will write him a letter.”

  9 Baron Alexander von Humboldt, the German scientist and explorer, was surprised to find in Jefferson’s office a newspaper containing the most scurrilous abuse of the President. “Why is this libelous journal not suppressed?” asked the baron. “Or why do you not fine the editor, or imprison him?” Jefferson smiled. “Put that paper in your pocket, baron,” he said, “and if you hear the reality of our liberty, the freedom of the press, questioned, show them this paper and tell them where you found it.”

  10 While riding to Washington one day, Jefferson overtook a traveler on the road. After exchanging greetings, the man, who clearly did not recognize his fellow traveler, began to abuse the President in vile terms. Asked if he knew the President, the man replied, “No, nor do I wish to.” Jefferson asked if the man would consent to meeting the President if Jefferson could arrange it, and they parted. The traveler suddenly realized his error, but nevertheless he appeared at Monticello and sent in his card, which read, “Mr. X, Mr. Jefferson’s yesterday’s companion.” Jefferson appeared and warmly greeted him. “I have called,” the man said, “to apologize for having said to a stranger —” and Jefferson broke in, saying, “Hard things of an imaginary being who is no relation of mine.”

  11 Jefferson and his grandson were out riding one day when a slave took off his hat and bowed to them. Jefferson courteously raised his hat and bowed in acknowledgment. His grandson, engrossed in conversation, ignored the man. Jefferson said severely, “Do you permit a slave to be more of a gentleman than you?”

  12 The code of discipline at the University of Virginia was at first very lax, as Jefferson trusted that the students would take their studies seriously. This trust proved misplaced and the misbehavior of the students culminated in a riot in which the professors who tried to restore order were attacked with bricks and canes.

  The following day a meeting was held between the university’s board of visitors, of which Jefferson was of course a member, and the defiant students. Jefferson began by saying, “This is one of the most painful events of my life,” was overcome by emotion, and burst into tears. No amount of oratory or scolding could have had such an extraordinary effect. Another member of the board took over the meeting and asked the rioters to come forward and give their names. Nearly every one of them did so. As one of the students said afterward, “It was not Mr. Jefferson’s words, but his tears.”

  13 By a strange coincidence Jefferson and his old rival John Adams both died on the fiftieth anniversary of the Declaration of Independence — July 4, 1826. On the evening of July 3 Jefferson was in bed, his life ebbing rapidly. “This is the Fourth?” he whispered to a young friend watching by his bedside. The man could not bring himself to say that it was not yet, so kept silent. Jefferson repeated the question, and this time the friend nodded. A look of deep satisfaction came over Jefferson’s face, he sighed deeply, lay back, sank into a deep sleep, and died shortly after noon on the Fourth.

  14 Jefferson’s grandson Jefferson Randolph once asked an old man, who remembered the President as a young lawyer, how his grandfather had been as a speaker in the courtroom. “Well,” said the man, “it’s hard to tell, because he always took the right side.”

  JEFFREYS, George, 1st Baron Jeffreys of Wem (?1645–89), English judge, notorious for his brutality.

  1 Pointing with his cane at a man about to be tried, Jeffreys remarked, “There is a rogue at the end of my cane.” The accused looked Jeffreys straight in the eye. “At which end, my lord?” he asked.

  JÉRÔME (1784–1860), king of Westphalia (1807–13), brother of Napoleon Bonaparte.

  1 When Napoleon III heard that his uncle was on his deathbed,
he sent for Cardinal Moriot, told him that he wished Jérôme to die with the full benefit of the last rites of the Roman Catholic Church, and dispatched him to attend on the dying man. Arriving at Jérôme’s house, the cardinal asked his majordomo, “Le roi a-t-il sa connaissance?” (Is the king in possession of his senses?) But the major-domo, interpreting connaissance in its more colloquial sense as “mistress,” replied, “Yes, your eminence, Mme de Plancy has spent the whole night at his bedside.”

  JERROLD, Douglas (1803–57), English writer, humorist, and playwright.

  1 Jerrold had been seriously ill and was recuperating at a seaside resort, with reading prohibited. One day a parcel arrived containing Robert Browning’s abstruse philosophical poem Sordello, and Jerrold indulged in the illicit pleasure. After reading a few lines he was seized with a mounting panic. He could not understand the poem at all. He sat down on his sofa, murmuring, “Oh, God, I am an idiot!” Had the illness softened his brain? When Mrs. Jerrold came in, he thrust the book into her hands, demanding to know what she made of it. She read it carefully under the anxious scrutiny of her husband. “I don’t understand what the man means,” she declared at last. “It is gibberish.” A delighted smile broke out on Jerrold’s face. “Thank God, I am not an idiot!” he cried.