Two Poets were quarrelling for the Apple of Discord and the Bone of Contention, for they were very hungry.
“My sons,” said Apollo, “I will part the prizes between you. You,” he said to the First Poet, “excel in Art—take the Apple. And you,” he said to the Second Poet, “in Imagination—take the Bone.”
“To Art the best prize!” said the First Poet, triumphantly, and endeavouring to devour his award broke all his teeth. The Apple was a work of Art.
“That shows our Master’s contempt for mere Art,” said the Second Poet, grinning.
Thereupon he attempted to gnaw his Bone, but his teeth passed through it without resistance. It was an imaginary Bone.
A Mind Reader made a wager that he would be buried alive and remain so for six months, then be dug up alive. In order to secure the grave against secret disturbance, it was sown with thistles. At the end of three months, the Mind Reader lost his money. He had come up to eat the thistles.
A Political Leader was walking out one sunny day, when he observed his Shadow leaving him and walking rapidly away.
“Come back here, you scoundrel,” he cried.
“If I had been a scoundrel,” answered the Shadow, increasing its speed, “I should not have left you.”
A Rat that was about to emerge from his hole caught a glimpse of a Cat waiting for him, and descending to the colony at the bottom of the hole invited a Friend to join him in a visit to a neighbouring corn-bin. “I would have gone alone,” he said, “but could not deny myself the pleasure of such distinguished company.”
“Very well,” said the Friend, “I will go with you. Lead on.”
“Lead?” exclaimed the other. “What!Iprecede so great and illustrious a rat as you? No, indeed—after you, sir, after you.”
Pleased with this great show of deference, the Friend went ahead, and, leaving the hole first, was caught by the Cat, who immediately trotted away with him. The other then went out unmolested.
A Member of the Kansas Legislature meeting a Cake of Soap was passing it by without recognition, but the Cake of Soap insisted on stopping and shaking hands. Thinking it might possibly be in the enjoyment of the elective franchise, he gave it a cordial and earnest grasp. On letting it go he observed that a portion of it adhered to his fingers, and running to a brook in great alarm he proceeded to wash it off. In doing so he necessarily got some on the other hand, and when he had finished washing, both were so white that he went to bed and sent for a physician.
“Good-Morning, my friend,” said Alarm to Pride; “how are you this morning?”
“Very tired,” replied Pride, seating himself on a stone by the wayside and mopping his steaming brow. “The politicians are wearing me out by pointing to their dirty records withme, when they could as well use a stick.”
Alarm sighed sympathetically, and said:
“It is pretty much the same way here. Instead of using an opera-glass they view the acts of their opponents withme!”
As these patient drudges were mingling their tears, they were notified that they must go on duty again, for one of the political parties had nominated a thief and was about to hold a gratification meeting.
A Rich Woman having returned from abroad disembarked at the foot of Knee-deep Street, and was about to walk to her hotel through the mud.
“Madam,” said a Policeman, “I cannot permit you to do that; you would soil your shoes and stockings.”
“Oh, that is of no importance, really,” replied the Rich Woman, with a cheerful smile.
“But, madam, it is needless; from the wharf to the hotel, as you observe, extends an unbroken line of prostrate newspaper men who crave the honour of having you walk upon them.”
“In that case,” she said, seating herself in a doorway and unlocking her satchel, “I shall have to put on my rubber boots.”
Meeting a fat and patriotic Statesman on his way to Washington to beseech the President for an office, an idle Tramp accosted him and begged twenty-five cents with which to buy a suit of clothes.
“Melancholy wreck,” said the Statesman, “what brought you to this state of degradation? Liquor, I suppose.”
“I am temperate to the verge of absurdity,” replied the Tramp. “My foible was patriotism; I was ruined by the baneful habit of trying to serve my country. What ruined you?”
“Indolence.”
A Broomstick which had long served a witch as a steed complained of the nature of its employment, which it thought degrading.
“Very well,” said the Witch, “I will give you work in which you will be associated with intellect—you will come in contact with brains. I shall present you to a housewife.”
“What!” said the Broomstick, “do you consider the hands of a housewife intellectual?”
“I referred,” said the Witch, “to the head of her good man.”
A Lion seeing a Poodle fell into laughter at the ridiculous spectacle.
“Who ever saw so small a beast?” he said.
“It is very true,” said the Poodle, with austere dignity, “that I am small; but, sir, I beg to observe that I am all dog.”
A Great Philanthropist who had thought of himself in connection with the Presidency and had introduced a bill into Congress requiring the Government to loan every voter all the money that he needed, on his personal security, was explaining to a Sunday-school at a railway station how much he had done for the country, when an angel looked down from Heaven and wept.
“For example,” said the Great Philanthropist, watching the teardrops pattering in the dust, “these early rains are of incalculable advantage to the farmer.”
A Wicked Old Man finding himself ill sent for a Physician, who prescribed for him and went away. Then the Wicked Old Man sent for another Physician, saying nothing of the first, and an entirely different treatment was ordered. This continued for some weeks, the physicians visiting him on alternate days and treating him for two different disorders, with constantly enlarging doses of medicine and more and more rigorous nursing. But one day they accidently met at his bedside while he slept, and the truth coming out a violent quarrel ensued.
“My good friends,” said the patient, awakened by the noise of the dispute, and apprehending the cause of it, “pray be more reasonable. If I could for weeks endure you both, can you not for a little while endure each other? I have been well for ten days, but have remained in bed in the hope of gaining by repose the strength that would justify me in taking your medicines. So far I have touched none of it.”
A Man that owned a fine Dog, and by a careful selection of its mate had bred a number of animals but a little lower than the angels, fell in love with his washerwoman, married her, and reared a family of dolts.
“Alas!” he exclaimed, contemplating the melancholy result, “had I but chosen a mate for myself with half the care that I did for my Dog I should now be a proud and happy father.”
“I’m not so sure of that,” said the Dog, overhearing the lament. “There’s a difference, certainly, between your whelps and mine, but I venture to flatter myself that it is not due altogether to the mothers. You and I are not entirely alike ourselves.”
Some White Christians engaged in driving Chinese Heathens out of an American town found a newspaper published in Peking in the Chinese tongue, and compelled one of their victims to translate an editorial. It turned out to be an appeal to the people of the Province of Pang Ki to drive the foreign devils out of the country and burn their dwellings and churches. At this evidence of Mongolian barbarity the White Christians were so greatly incensed that they carried out their original design.
A Robber who had plundered a Merchant of one thousand pieces of gold was taken before the Cadi, who asked him if he had anything to say why he should not be decapitated.
“Your Honour,” said the Robber, “I could do no otherwise than take the money, for Allah made me that way.”
“Your defence is ingenious and sound,” said the Cadi, “and I must acquit you of criminality. Unfortunately, Allah has made me so that I must also take off your head—unless,” he added, thoughtfully, “you offer me half of the gold; for He made me weak under temptation.”
Thereupon the Robber put five hundred pieces of gold into the Cadi’s hand.
“Good,” said the Cadi. “I shall now remove but one half your head. To show my trust in your discretion I shall leave intact the half you talk with.”
A Kangaroo hopping awkwardly along with some bulky object concealed in her pouch met a Zebra, and desirous of keeping his attention upon himself, said:
“Your costume looks as if you might have come out of the penitentiary.”
“Appearances are deceitful,” replied the Zebra, smiling in the consciousness of a more insupportable wit, “or I should have to think that you had come out of the Legislature.”
A Philosopher seeing a Fool beating his Donkey, said:
“Abstain, my son, abstain, I implore. Those who resort to violence shall suffer from violence.”
“That,” said the Fool, diligently belabouring the animal, “is what I’m trying to teach this beast—which has kicked me.”
“Doubtless,” said the Philosopher to himself, as he walked away, “the wisdom of fools is no deeper nor truer than ours, but they really do seem to have a more impressive way of imparting it.”
During a shower of rain the Keeper of a Zoölogical garden observed a Man of Principle crouching beneath the belly of the ostrich, which had drawn itself up to its full height to sleep.
“Why, my dear sir,” said the Keeper, “if you fear to get wet, you’d better creep into the pouch of yonder female kangaroo—theSaltarix mackintosha—for if that ostrich wakes he will kick you to death in a minute.”
“I can’t help that,” the Man of Principle replied, with that lofty scorn of practical considerations distinguishing his species. “He may kick me to death if he wish, but until he does he shall give me shelter from the storm. He has swallowed my umbrella.”
A Man was hanged by the neck until he was dead.
“Whence do you come?” Saint Peter asked when the Man presented himself at the gate of Heaven.
“From California,” replied the applicant.
“Enter, my son, enter; you bring joyous tidings.”
When the Man had vanished inside, Saint Peter took his memorandum-tablet and made the following entry:
“February 16, 1893. California occupied by the Christians.”
A Kind-Hearted Physician sitting at the bedside of a patient afflicted with an incurable and painful disease, heard a noise behind him, and turning saw a cat laughing at the feeble efforts of a wounded mouse to drag itself out of the room.
“You cruel beast!” cried he. “Why don’t you kill it at once, like a lady?”
Rising, he kicked the cat out of the door, and picking up the mouse compassionately put it out of its misery by pulling off its head. Recalled to the bedside by the moans of his patient, the Kind-hearted Physician administered a stimulant, a tonic, and a nutrient, and went away.
Two Blighted Beings, haggard, lachrymose, and detested, met on a blasted heath in the light of a struggling moon.
“I wish you a merry Christmas,” said the First Blighted Being, in a voice like that of a singing tomb.
“And I you a happy New Year,” responded the Second Blighted Being, with the accent of a penitent accordeon.
They then fell upon each other’s neck and wept scalding rills down each other’s spine in token of their banishment to the Realm of Ineffable Bosh. For one of these accursed creatures was the First of January, and the other the Twenty-fifth of December.
A Governor visiting a State prison was implored by a Convict to pardon him.
“What are you in for?” asked the Governor.
“I held a high office,” the Convict humbly replied, “and sold subordinate appointments.”
“Then I decline to interfere,” said the Governor, with asperity; “a man who abuses his office by making it serve a private end and purvey a personal advantage is unfit to be free. By the way, Mr. Warden,” he added to that official, as the Convict slunk away, “in appointing you to this position, I was given to understand that your friends could make the Shikane county delegation to the next State convention solid for—for the present Administration. Was I rightly informed?”
“You were, sir.”
“Very well, then, I will bid you good-day. Please be so good as to appoint my nephew Night Chaplain and Reminder of Mothers and Sisters.”
Hearing a sound of strife, a Christian in the Orient asked his Dragoman the cause of it.
“The Buddhists are cutting Mohammedan throats,” the Dragoman replied, with oriental composure.
“I did not know,” remarked the Christian, with scientific interest, “that that would make so much noise.”
“The Mohammedans are cutting Buddhist throats, too,” added the Dragoman.
“It is astonishing,” mused the Christian, “how violent and how general are religious animosities. Everywhere in the world the devotees of each local faith abhor the devotees of every other, and abstain from murder only so long as they dare not commit it. And the strangest thing about it is that all religions are erroneous and mischievous excepting mine. Mine, thank God, is true and benign.”
So saying he visibly smugged and went off to telegraph for a brigade of cutthroats to protect Christian interests.
A Person belonging to the Society for Passing Resolutions of Respect for the Memory of Deceased Members having died received the customary attention.
“Good Heavens!” exclaimed a Sovereign Elector, on hearing the resolutions read, “what a loss to the nation! And to think that I once voted against that angel for Inspector of Gate-latches in Public Squares!”
In remorse the Sovereign Elector deprived himself of political influence by learning to read.
A Dog of a taciturn disposition said to his Tail:
“Whenever I am angry, you rise and bristle; when I am pleased, you wag; when I am alarmed, you tuck yourself in out of danger. You are too mercurial—you disclose all my emotions. My notion is that tails are given to conceal thought. It is my dearest ambition to be as impassive as the Sphinx.”
“My friend, you must recognise the laws and limitations of your being,” replied the Tail, with flexions appropriate to the sentiments uttered, “and try to be great some other way. The Sphinx has one hundred and fifty qualifications for impassiveness which you lack.”
“What are they?” the Dog asked.
“One hundred and forty-nine tons of sand on her tail.”
“And—?”
“A stone tail.”
An Undertaker Who Was a Member of a Trust saw a Man Leaning on a Spade, and asked him why he was not at work.
“Because,” said the Man Leaning on a Spade, “I belong to the Gravediggers’ National Extortion Society, and we have decided to limit the production of graves and get more money for the reduced output. We have a corner in graves and propose to work it to the best advantage.”
“My friend,” said the Undertaker Who Was a Member of a Trust, “this is a most hateful and injurious scheme. If people cannot be assured of graves, I fear they will no longer die, and the best interests of civilisation will wither like a frosted leaf.”
And blowing his eyes upon his handkerchief, he walked away lamenting.
The Gallant Crew at a life-saving station were about to launch their life-boat for a spin along the coast when they discovered, but a little distance away, a capsized vessel with a dozen men clinging to her keel.
“We are fortunate,” said the Gallant Crew, “to have seen that in time. Our fate might have been the same as theirs.”
So they hauled the life-boat back into its house, and were spared to the service of their country.
Through massacres of each other’s citizens China and the United States had been four times plunged into devastating wars, when, in the year 1994, arose a Philosopher in Madagascar, who laid before the Governments of the two distracted countries the followingmodus vivendi:
“Massacres are to be sternly forbidden as heretofore; but any citizen or subject of either country disobeying the injunction is to detach the scalps of all persons massacred and deposit them with a local officer designated to receive and preserve them and sworn to keep and render a true account thereof. At the conclusion of each massacre in either country, or as soon thereafter as practicable, or at stated regular periods, as may be provided by treaty, there shall be an exchange of scalps between the two Governments, scalp for scalp, without regard to sex or age; the Government having the greatest number is to be taxed on the excess at the rate of $1000 a scalp, and the other Government credited with the amount. Once in every decade there shall be a general settlement, when the balance due shall be paid to the creditor nation in Mexican dollars.”
The plan was adopted, the necessary treaty made, with legislation to carry out its provisions; the Madagascarene Philosopher took his seat in the Temple of Immortality, and Peace spread her white wings over the two nations, to the unspeakable defiling of her plumage.
A Gifted and Honourable Editor, who by practice of his profession had acquired wealth and distinction, applied to an Old Friend for the hand of his daughter in marriage.
“With all my heart, and God bless you!” said the Old Friend, grasping him by both hands. “It is a greater honour than I had dared to hope for.”
“I knew what your answer would be,” replied the Gifted and Honourable Editor. “And yet,” he added, with a sly smile, “I feel that I ought to give you as much knowledge of my character as I possess. In this scrap-book is such testimony relating to my shady side, as I have within the past ten years been able to cut from the columns of my competitors in the business of elevating humanity to a higher plane of mind and morals—my ‘loathsome contemporaries.’”
Laying the book on a table, he withdrew in high spirits to make arrangements for the wedding. Three days later he received the scrap-book from a messenger, with a note warning him never again to darken his Old Friend’s door.
“See!” the Gifted and Honourable Editor exclaimed, pointing to that injunction—“I am a painter and grainer!”
And he was led away to the Asylum for the Indiscreet.
The Cashier of a bank having defaulted was asked by the Directors what he had done with the money taken.
“I am greatly surprised by such a question,” said the Cashier; “it sounds as if you suspected me of selfishness. Gentlemen, I applied that money to the purpose for which I took it; I paid it as an initiation fee and one year’s dues in advance to the Treasurer of the Cashiers’ Mutual Defence Association.”
“What is the object of that organisation?” the Directors inquired.
“When any one of its members is under suspicion,” replied the Cashier, “the Association undertakes to clear his character by submitting evidence that he was never a prominent member of any church, nor foremost in Sunday-school work.”
Recognising the value to the bank of a spotless reputation for its officers, the President drew his check for the amount of the shortage and the Cashier was restored to favour.
A Detective searching for the murderer of a dead man was accosted by a Clew.
“Follow me,” said the Clew, “and there’s no knowing what you may discover.”
So the Detective followed the Clew a whole year through a thousand sinuosities, and at last found himself in the office of the Morgue.
“There!” said the Clew, pointing to the open register.
The Detective eagerly scanned the page, and found an official statement that the deceased was dead. Thereupon he hastened to Police Headquarters to report progress. The Clew, meanwhile, sauntered among the busy haunts of men, arm in arm with an Ingenious Theory.
A Widow weeping on her husband’s grave was approached by an Engaging Gentleman who, in a respectful manner, assured her that he had long entertained for her the most tender feelings.
“Wretch!” cried the Widow. “Leave me this instant! Is this a time to talk to me of love?”
“I assure you, madam, that I had not intended to disclose my affection,” the Engaging Gentleman humbly explained, “but the power of your beauty has overcome my discretion.”
“You should see me when I have not been crying,” said the Widow.
A Dispenser-Elect of Patronage gave notice through the newspapers that applicants for places would be given none until he should assume the duties of his office.
“You are exposing yourself to a grave danger,” said a Lawyer.
“How so?” the Dispenser-Elect inquired.
“It will be nearly two months,” the Lawyer answered, “before the day that you mention. Few patriots can live so long without eating, and some of the applicants will be compelled to go to work in the meantime. If that kills them, you will be liable to prosecution for murder.”
“You underrate their powers of endurance,” the official replied.
“What!” said the Lawyer, “you think they can stand work?”
“No,” said the other—“hunger.”
An Office Seeker whom the President had ordered out of Washington was watering the homeward highway with his tears.
“Ah,” he said, “how disastrous is ambition! how unsatisfying its rewards! how terrible its disappointments! Behold yonder peasant tilling his field in peace and contentment! He rises with the lark, passes the day in wholesome toil, and lies down at night to pleasant dreams. In the mad struggle for place and power he has no part; the roar of the strife reaches his ear like the distant murmur of the ocean. Happy, thrice happy man! I will approach him and bask in the sunshine of his humble felicity. Peasant, all hail!”
Leaning upon his rake, the Peasant returned the salutation with a nod, but said nothing.
“My friend,” said the Office Seeker, “you see before you the wreck of an ambitious man—ruined by the pursuit of place and power. This morning when I set out from the national capital—”
“Stranger,” the Peasant interrupted, “if you’re going back there soon maybe you wouldn’t mind using your influence to make me Postmaster at Smith’s Corners.”
The traveller passed on.
The King of Wideout having been offered the sovereignty of Wayoff, sent for the Three Persons who had made the offer, and said to them:
“I am extremely obliged to you, but before accepting so great a responsibility I must ascertain the sentiments of the people of Wayoff.”
“Sire,” said the Spokesman of the Three Persons, “they stand before you.”
“Indeed!” said the King; “are you, then, the people of Wayoff?”
“Yes, your Majesty.”
“There are not many of you,” the King said, attentively regarding them with the royal eye, “and you are not so very large; I hardly think you are a quorum. Moreover, I never heard of you until you came here; whereas Wayoff is noted for the quality of its pork and contains hogs of distinction. I shall send a Commissioner to ascertain the sentiments of the hogs.”
The Three Persons, bowing profoundly, backed out of the presence; but soon afterward they desired another audience, and, on being readmitted, said, through their Spokesman:
“May it please your Majesty, we are the hogs.”
A Statesman who had been indicted by an unfeeling Grand Jury was arrested by a Sheriff and thrown into jail. As this was abhorrent to his fine spiritual nature, he sent for the District Attorney and asked that the case against him be dismissed.
“Upon what grounds?” asked the District Attorney.
“Lack of evidence to convict,” replied the accused.
“Do you happen to have the lack with you?” the official asked. “I should like to see it.”
“With pleasure,” said the other; “here it is.”
So saying he handed the other a check, which the District Attorney carefully examined, and then pronounced it the most complete absence of both proof and presumption that he had ever seen. He said it would acquit the oldest man in the world.
At a meeting of the Golden League of Mystery a Woman was discovered, writing in a note-book. A member directed the attention of the Superb High Chairman to her, and she was asked to explain her presence there, and what she was doing.
“I came in for my own pleasure and instruction,” she said, “and was so struck by the wisdom of the speakers that I could not help making a few notes.”
“Madam,” said the Superb High Chairman, “we have no objection to visitors if they will pledge themselves not to publish anything they hear. Are you—on your honour as a lady, now, madam—are you not connected with some newspaper?”
“Good gracious, no!” cried the Woman, earnestly. “Why, sir, I am an officer of the Women’s Press Association!”
She was permitted to remain, and presented with resolutions of apology.
A Judge who had for years looked in vain for an opportunity for infamous distinction, but whom no litigant thought worth bribing, sat one day upon the Bench, lamenting his hard lot, and threatening to put an end to his life if business did not improve. Suddenly he found himself confronted by a dreadful figure clad in a shroud, whose pallor and stony eyes smote him with a horrible apprehension.
“Who are you,” he faltered, “and why do you come here?”
“I am the Rash Act,” was the sepulchral reply; “you may commit me.”
“No,” the judge said, thoughtfully, “no, that would be quite irregular. I do not sit to-day as a committing magistrate.”
A Slander travelling rapidly through the land upon its joyous mission was accosted by a Retraction and commanded to halt and be killed.
“Your career of mischief is at an end,” said the Retraction, drawing his club, rolling up his sleeves, and spitting on his hands.
“Why should you slay me?” protested the Slander. “Whatever my intentions were, I have been innocuous, for you have dogged my strides and counteracted my influence.”
“Dogged your grandmother!” said the Retraction, with contemptuous vulgarity of speech. “In the order of nature it is appointed that we two shall never travel the same road.”
“How then,” the Slander asked, triumphantly, “have you overtaken me?”
“I have not,” replied the Retraction; “we have accidentally met. I came round the world the other way.”
But when he tried to execute his fell purpose he found that in the order of nature it was appointed that he himself perish miserably in the encounter.
The President of a great Corporation went into a dry-goods shop and saw a placard which read:
“If You Don’t See What You Want, Ask For It.”
Approaching the shopkeeper, who had been narrowly observing him as he read the placard, he was about to speak, when the shopkeeper called to a salesman:
“John, show this gentleman the world.”
A Heavy Operator overtaken by a Reverse of Fortune was bewailing his sudden fall from affluence to indigence.
“Do not weep,” said the Reverse of Fortune. “You need not suffer alone. Name any one of the men who have opposed your schemes, and I will overtakehim.”
“It is hardly worth while,” said the victim, earnestly. “Not a soul of them has a cent!”
A Forestry Commissioner had just felled a giant tree when, seeing an honest man approaching, he dropped his axe and fled. The next day when he cautiously returned to get his axe, he found the following lines pencilled on the stump:
“What nature reared by centuries of toil,A scalawag in half a day can spoil;An equal fate for him may Heaven provide—Damned in the moment of his tallest pride.”
“What nature reared by centuries of toil,A scalawag in half a day can spoil;An equal fate for him may Heaven provide—Damned in the moment of his tallest pride.”
A Turbulent Person was brought before a Judge to be tried for an assault with intent to commit murder, and it was proved that he had been variously obstreperous without apparent provocation, had affected the peripheries of several luckless fellow-citizens with the trunk of a small tree, and subsequently cleaned out the town. While trying to palliate these misdeeds, the defendant’s Attorney turned suddenly to the Judge, saying:
“Did your Honour ever lose your temper?”
“I fine you twenty-five dollars for contempt of court!” roared the Judge, in wrath. “How dare you mention the loss of my temper in connection with this case?”
After a moment’s silence the Attorney said, meekly:
“I thought my client might perhaps have found it.”
A Politician seeing a fat Turkey which he wanted for dinner, baited a hook with a grain of corn and dragged it before the fowl at the end of a long and almost invisible line. When the Turkey had swallowed the hook, the Politician ran, drawing the creature after him.
“Fellow-citizens,” he cried, addressing some turkey-breeders whom he met, “you observe that the man does not seek the bird, but the bird seeks the man. For this unsolicited and unexpected dinner I thank you with all my heart.”
A Distinguished Advocate of Republican Institutions was seen pickling his shins in the ocean.
“Why don’t you come out on dry land?” said the Spectator. “What are you in there for?”
“Sir,” replied the Distinguished Advocate of Republican Institutions, “a ship is expected, bearing His Majesty the King of the Fly-Speck Islands, and I wish to be the first to grasp the crowned hand.”
“But,” said the Spectator, “you said in your famous speech before the Society for the Prevention of the Protrusion of Nail Heads from Plank Sidewalks that Kings were blood-smeared oppressors and hell-bound loafers.”
“My dear sir,” said the Distinguished Advocate of Republican Institutions, without removing his eyes from the horizon, “you wander away into the strangest irrelevancies! I spoke of Kings in the abstract.”
The Trainer of a Pugilist consulted a Physician regarding the champion’s diet.
“Beef-steaks are too tender,” said the Physician; “have his meat cut from the neck of a bull.”
“I thought the steaks more digestible,” the Trainer explained.
“That is very true,” said the Physician; “but they do not sufficiently exercise the chin.”
A Beautiful Old Man, meeting a Sunday-school Pupil, laid his hand tenderly upon the lad’s head, saying: “Listen, my son, to the words of the wise and heed the advice of the righteous.”
“All right,” said the Sunday-school Pupil; “go ahead.”
“Oh, I haven’t anything to do with it myself,” said the Beautiful Old Man. “I am only observing one of the customs of the age. I am a pirate.”
And when he had taken his hand from the lad’s head, the latter observed that his hair was full of clotted blood. Then the Beautiful Old Man went his way, instructing other youth.
A Man died leaving a large estate and many sorrowful relations who claimed it. After some years, when all but one had had judgment given against them, that one was awarded the estate, which he asked his Attorney to have appraised.
“There is nothing to appraise,” said the Attorney, pocketing his last fee.
“Then,” said the Successful Claimant, “what good has all this litigation done me?”
“You have been a good client to me,” the Attorney replied, gathering up his books and papers, “but I must say you betray a surprising ignorance of the purpose of litigation.”
Several Political Entities were dividing the spoils.
“I will take the management of the prisons,” said a Decent Respect for Public Opinion, “and make a radical change.”
“And I,” said the Blotted Escutcheon, “will retain my present general connection with affairs, while my friend here, the Soiled Ermine, will remain in the Judiciary.”
The Political Pot said it would not boil any more unless replenished from the Filthy Pool.
The Cohesive Power of Public Plunder quietly remarked that the two bosses would, he supposed, naturally be his share.
“No,” said the Depth of Degradation, “they have already fallen to me.”
A Person with a Wart on His Nose met a Person Similarly Afflicted, and said:
“Let me propose your name for membership in the Imperial Order of Abnormal Proboscidians, of which I am the High Noble Toby and Surreptitious Treasurer. Two months ago I was the only member. One month ago there were two. To-day we number four Emperors of the Abnormal Proboscis in good standing—doubles every four weeks, see? That’s geometrical progression—you know how that piles up. In a year and a half every man in California will have a wart on his Nose. Powerful Order! Initiation, five dollars.”
“My friend,” said the Person Similarly Afflicted, “here are five dollars. Keep my name off your books.”
“Thank you kindly,” the Man with a Wart on His Nose replied, pocketing the money; “it is just the same to us as if you joined. Good-by.”
He went away, but in a little while he was back.
“I quite forgot to mention the monthly dues,” he said.
A Delegation at Washington went to a New President, and said:
“Your Excellency, we are unable to agree upon a Favourite Son to represent us in your Cabinet.”
“Then,” said the New President, “I shall have to lock you up until you do agree.”
So the Delegation was cast into the deepest dungeon beneath the moat, where it maintained a divided mind for many weeks, but finally reconciled its differences and asked to be taken before the New President.
“My child,” said he, “nothing is so beautiful as harmony. My Cabinet Selections were all made before our former interview, but you have supplied a noble instance of patriotism in subordinating your personal preferences to the general good. Go now to your beautiful homes and be happy.”
It is not recorded that the Delegation was happy.
The Chief of the Weather Bureau having predicted a fine day, a Thrifty Person hastened to lay in a large stock of umbrellas, which he exposed for sale on the sidewalk; but the weather remained clear, and nobody would buy. Thereupon the Thrifty Person brought an action against the Chief of the Weather Bureau for the cost of the umbrellas.
“Your Honour,” said the defendant’s attorney, when the case was called, “I move that this astonishing action be dismissed. Not only is my client in no way responsible for the loss, but he distinctly foreshadowed the very thing that caused it.”
“That is just it, your Honour,” replied the counsel for the plaintiff; “the defendant by making a correct forecast fooled my client in the only way that he could do so. He has lied so much and so notoriously that he has neither the legal nor moral right to tell the truth.”
Judgment for the plaintiff.
An Insurance Agent was trying to induce a Hard Man to Deal With to take out a policy on his house. After listening to him for an hour, while he painted in vivid colours the extreme danger of fire consuming the house, the Hard Man to Deal With said:
“Do you really think it likely that my house will burn down inside the time that policy will run?”
“Certainly,” replied the Insurance Agent; “have I not been trying all this time to convince you that I do?”
“Then,” said the Hard Man to Deal With, “why are you so anxious to have your Company bet me money that it will not?”
The Agent was silent and thoughtful for a moment; then he drew the other apart into an unfrequented place and whispered in his ear:
“My friend, I will impart to you a dark secret. Years ago the Company betrayed my sweetheart by promise of marriage. Under an assumed name I have wormed myself into its service for revenge; and as there is a heaven above us, I will have its heart’s blood!”
Two Frogs in the belly of a snake were considering their altered circumstances.
“This is pretty hard luck,” said one.
“Don’t jump to conclusions,” the other said; “we are out of the wet and provided with board and lodging.”
“With lodging, certainly,” said the First Frog; “but I don’t see the board.”
“You are a croaker,” the other explained. “We are ourselves the board.”
A Big Nation having a quarrel with a Little Nation, resolved to terrify its antagonist by a grand naval demonstration in the latter’s principal port. So the Big Nation assembled all its ships of war from all over the world, and was about to send them three hundred and fifty thousand miles to the place of rendezvous, when the President of the Big Nation received the following note from the President of the Little Nation:
“My great and good friend, I hear that you are going to show us your navy, in order to impress us with a sense of your power. How needless the expense! To prove to you that we already know all about it, I inclose herewith a list and description of all the ships you have.”
The great and good friend was so struck by the hard sense of the letter that he kept his navy at home, and saved one thousand million dollars. This economy enabled him to buy a satisfactory decision when the cause of the quarrel was submitted to arbitration.
Two Footpads sat at their grog in a roadside resort, comparing the evening’s adventures.
“I stood up the Chief of Police,” said the First Footpad, “and I got away with what he had.”
“And I,” said the Second Footpad, “stood up the United States District Attorney, and got away with—”
“Good Lord!” interrupted the other in astonishment and admiration—“you got away with what that fellow had?”
“No,” the unfortunate narrator explained—“with a small part of whatIhad.”
During the Civil War a Patriot was passing through the State of Maryland with a pass from the President to join Grant’s army and see the fighting. Stopping a day at Annapolis, he visited the shop of a well-known optician and ordered seven powerful telescopes, one for every day in the week. In recognition of this munificent patronage of the State’s languishing industries, the Governor commissioned him a colonel.
A Negro in a boat, gathering driftwood, saw a sleeping Alligator, and, thinking it was a log, fell to estimating the number of shingles it would make for his new cabin. Having satisfied his mind on that point, he stuck his boat-hook into the beast’s back to harvest his good fortune. Thereupon the saurian emerged from his dream and took to the water, greatly to the surprise of the man-and-brother.
“I never befo’ seen such a cyclone as dat,” he exclaimed as soon as he had recovered his breath. “It done carry away de ruf of my house!”
After a great expenditure of life and treasure a Daring Explorer had succeeded in reaching the North Pole, when he was approached by a Native Galeut who lived there.
“Good morning,” said the Native Galeut. “I‘m very glad to see you, but why did you come here?”
“Glory,” said the Daring Explorer, curtly.
“Yes, yes, I know,” the other persisted; “but of what benefit to man is your discovery? To what truths does it give access which were inaccessible before?—facts, I mean, having a scientific value?”
“I‘ll be Tom scatted if I know,” the great man replied, frankly; “you will have to ask the Scientist of the Expedition.”
But the Scientist of the Expedition explained that he had been so engrossed with the care of his instruments and the study of his tables that he had found no time to think of it.
A Man who had experienced the favours of fortune and was an Optimist, met a man who had experienced an optimist and was a Cynic. So the Cynic turned out of the road to let the Optimist roll by in his gold carriage.
“My son,” said the Optimist, stopping the gold carriage, “you look as if you had not a friend in the world.”
“I don’t know if I have or not,” replied the Cynic, “for you have the world.”
“My dear sir,” said the editor to the man, who had called to see about his poem, “I regret to say that owing to an unfortunate altercation in this office the greater part of your manuscript is illegible; a bottle of ink was upset upon it, blotting out all but the first line—that is to say—”
“‘The autumn leaves were falling, falling.’
“Unluckily, not having read the poem, I was unable to supply the incidents that followed; otherwise we could have given them in our own words. If the news is not stale, and has not already appeared in the other papers, perhaps you will kindly relate what occurred, while I make notes of it.
“‘The autumn leaves were falling, falling,’
“Go on.”
“What!” said the poet, “do you expect me to reproduce the entire poem from memory?”
“Only the substance of it—just the leading facts. We will add whatever is necessary in the way of amplification and embellishment. It will detain you but a moment.
“‘The autumn leaves were falling, falling—’
“Now, then.”
There was a sound of a slow getting up and going away. The chronicler of passing events sat through it, motionless, with suspended pen; and when the movement was complete Poesy was represented in that place by nothing but a warm spot on the wooden chair.
A Successful Man of Business, having occasion to write to a Thief, expressed a wish to see him and shake hands.
“No,” replied the Thief, “there are some things which I will not take—among them your hand.”
“You must use a little strategy,” said a Philosopher to whom the Successful Man of Business had reported the Thief’s haughty reply. “Leave your hand out some night, and he will take it.”
So one night the Successful Man of Business left his hand out of his neighbour’s pocket, and the Thief took it with avidity.
A Judge said to a Convicted Assassin:
“Prisoner at the bar, have you anything to say why the death-sentence should not be passed upon you?”
“Will what I say make any difference?” asked the Convicted Assassin.
“I do not see how it can,” the Judge answered, reflectively. “No, it will not.”
“Then,” said the doomed one, “I should just like to remark that you are the most unspeakable old imbecile in seven States and the District of Columbia.”
The people of Madagonia had an antipathy to the people of Novakatka and set upon some sailors of a Novakatkan vessel, killing two and wounding twelve. The King of Madagonia having refused either to apologise or pay, the King of Novakatka made war upon him, saying that it was necessary to show that Novakatkans must not be slaughtered. In the battles which ensued the people of Madagonia slaughtered two thousand Novakatkans and wounded twelve thousand. But the Madagonians were unsuccessful, which so chagrined them that never thereafter in all their land was a Novakatkan secure in property or life.
While the Owner of a Silver Mine was on his way to attend a convention of his species he was accosted by a Jackass, who said:
“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.”
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.”
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.”
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.”
“Who sells his influence should stop it,An honest man will only swap it.”
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.”
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.”
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.
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.
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. The thing is to know the nature of your antagonist.”
So saying the Opossum lay down and pretended to be dead.