Among the Humorists and After Dinner Speakers Part 47

"Please, mum," began the aged hero in appealing tones, as he stood at the kitchen-door on washday, "I've lost my leg--"

"Well, I ain't got it," snapped the woman, slamming the door.

In the absence of the regularly appointed spokesman, Mr. Makinbrakes had reluctantly consented to make a presentation speech.

"Miss Higham," he said, "unfortunately it is my--er--fortunate lot to fulfill the embarra.s.sing--the pleasant duty of--of inflicting a few remarks upon this occasion--which is highly appreciated, I a.s.sure you, and by none more so than myself, for the reason that--in short, as I may say, it falls to my lot to convey, so to speak, the a.s.surances of--that is, with the a.s.surances of those to whom--to whom I have occasion to refer to--more or less--in this connection, together with the best wishes, if I may so express myself, of those who have clubbed together--who have a.s.sociated themselves--not that you need anything of the kind, of course, but as a token of--as a token of--of--with which few remarks, Miss Higham, it is my--my pleasant surprise to hand you this gold watch and chain. I--I thank you."

The reputed affinity between the Southern negro and unguarded poultry is the subject of a story told by Senator Bacon, of Georgia. An old colored man, notorious for his evil ways, after attending a revival meeting, desired to lead a better life. At a later meeting he was called up to be questioned.

"Well, Rastus," said the revivalist, "I hope you are now trying to live a Christian life in accordance with the rules of the Church. Have you been stealing any chickens lately?"

"No, sah! I ain't stole no chicken ob late."

"Any turkeys or pigs?"

Rastus, grieved, replied: "No, sah!"

"I am very glad to hear that you have been doing better lately,"

replied the evangelist. "Continue to lead a holy and Christian life, Rastus."

After the meeting was over, Rastus drew a long breath of relief, and turning to his wife exclaimed:

"Mandy, if he'd said ducks I'd been a lost n.i.g.g.e.r, suah!"

The late Moses Coit Tyler, so long Professor of History in Cornell, was at one time a popular professor in the University of Michigan. One raw February morning as he was calling the roll of an 8 o'clock cla.s.s in English, he called "Mr. Robbins," and receiving no answer called again: "Mr. Robbins?" Still no reply. "Ah," said Professor Tyler, looking around upon the cla.s.s in his inimitable manner, "it is rather early for robins."

He--"Isn't dinner ready yet?"

She--"No, dear. I got it according to the time you set the clock when you came in last night, and dinner will be ready in four hours."

A foreigner, meeting an American friend, said to him, "How are you?"

The latter replied, "Out of sight."

The man considered this very clever, and decided to use the expression on the next occasion. Shortly after he was met by a friend, who asked, "How are you?" With visible pride he answered, "You don't see me."

There is a clerk in the employ of a Philadelphia business man who, while a fair worker, is yet an individual of p.r.o.nounced eccentricity.

One day a wire basket fell off the top of the clerk's desk and scratched his cheek. Not having any court plaster at hand, he slapped on three two-cent postage stamps and continued his work.

A few minutes later he had occasion to take some papers to his employer's private office. When he entered, the "old man" observing the postage stamps on his cheek fixed him with an astonished stare.

"Look here, Jenkins!" he exclaimed. "You are carrying too much postage for second-cla.s.s matter!"

"I suppose," said the facetious stranger, watching a workman spread a carpet from the church door to the curb, "that's the high road to heaven you're fixing there?"

"No," replied the man; "this is merely a bridal path."

"I hope my little Tommy has taken to heart mama's talk of last night about charity and usefulness," said a fond mother. "How many acts of kindness has he done? How many hearts has my Tommy made grateful and glad?"

Her Tommy replied:

"I've done a lot of good, ma; I gave your new hat to a beggar woman, and I gave the cook's shoes to a little girl in busted rubbers what I seen on the street, and I gave a poor, lame shoe-string seller pa's black suit, the open front one that he hardly ever wears."

Charles Francis Adams was escorting a literary friend about Boston.

They were viewing the different objects of attraction and finally came to Bunker Hill. They stood looking at the splendid monument when Adams remarked: "This is the place, sir, where Warren fell."

"Ah!" replied the Englishman, evidently not very familiar with American history. "Was he seriously hurt by his fall?"

Mr. Adams looked at his friend. "Hurt!" said he. "He was killed, sir."

"Ah, indeed," the Englishman replied, still eying the monument and commencing to compute its height in his own mind. "Well, I should think he might have been--falling so far."

"Darling," said his bride, "I had a terrible feeling of sadness come over me this afternoon--a sort of feeling that you were doing something that would break my heart if I knew of it. Think, sweet, what were you doing this afternoon at four o'clock?"

"Dearest," replied her husband, tenderly and rea.s.suringly, "at that hour I was licking stamps and pasting them on envelopes."

A few years ago a dear old lady, who formerly lived in Ipswich, and was a relative of the poet Whittier, had occasion to go on a journey which necessitated a night's ride in a sleeping car. Being subject to attacks of acute indigestion, she took the precaution to place a few leaves of the commercial mustard plaster in her hand bag.

During the night, pains, either real or imaginary, warned her of trouble and prevented sleep. Deciding upon the application of a plaster, she reached in the dark for the hand bag, and, having secured it, proceeded to put one of the leaves where it would do the most good, and immediately felt comforted and enjoyed a refreshing sleep until morning.

Upon removing the plaster, what was her astonishment to find that it was a $10 bank note that had brought such speedy relief.

Beerbohm Tree was once endeavoring to get a well-known actor back into his company. He invited the man to call and received him in his dressing room as he was making-up. "How much would you want to come back to me?" inquired Mr. Tree, busy with his paint pots. The other named an exorbitant salary to which Tree merely retorted as he went on making up: "Don't slam the door when you go out, will you?"