Among the Humorists and After Dinner Speakers Part 48

"Oh, mama," she cried, rushing into her mother's room, and flinging her arms around her mother's neck, "He loves me! He loves me!"

"My dear child, I'm so glad! Has he told you? Has he asked you to be his wife?"

"No, but he's down in the library learning to play chess with papa."

"If I had only known that this pleasure was in store for me," said the doctor, as he shook hands cordially with his wife's cousins, "I should certainly have arranged my business so as to be home earlier."

"Why, pa," piped up little Tommy, "don't you remember that ma told you they were coming, and you said, 'Oh, the devil!'"

A minister of a fashionable church had always left the greeting of strangers to be attended to by the ushers until he read some newspaper articles in reference to the matter.

"Suppose a representative should visit our church," said his wife.

"Wouldn't it be awful?"

"It would," the minister admitted.

The following Sunday evening he noticed a plainly dressed woman in one of the free pews. She sat alone and was clearly not a member of the flock. After the benediction the minister hastened and intercepted her at the door.

"How do you do?" he said, offering his hand. "I am very glad to have you with us."

"Thank you," replied the young woman.

"I hope we may see you often in our church home," he went on. "We are always glad to welcome new faces."

"Yes, sir."

"Do you live in this parish?" he asked.

The girl looked blank.

"If you will give me your address my wife and I will call on you some evening."

"You wouldn't need to go far, sir," said the young woman. "I'm your cook."

The mission-workers on the East Side frequently see the humorous as well as the sadder side of life. A man prominent in reform work in New York City recounts the experience of a certain young woman, new to the task, who set about posting herself as to conditions in a neighborhood near Avenue A.

The ambitious missionary had entered the house of an Irishwoman, and had made some preliminary inquiries, when she was suddenly interrupted by the woman, who said:

"Say, youse is fresh at dis business, ain't youse?"

The amateur in mission work blushingly admitted such to be the case, adding, "I have never visited you before, Mrs. Muldoon."

"Thin," explained the Irishwoman, "I tell ye what to do. Ye sit down in that chair there, ye read me a short psalm, ye gives me fifty cints, an' thin ye goes."

The following conversation was overheard during a hunting trip in Scotland:

Fitz--"I say, are all your beaters out of the wood?"

Keeper--"Yes, sir."

Fitz--"Are you sure?"

Keeper--"Yes, sir."

Fitz--"Have you counted them?"

Keeper--"No, sir; but I know they're all right."

Fitz--"Then I've shot a deer!"

Joe--"I love you; I love you. Won't you be my wife?"

Jess--"You must see mama first."

Joe--"I have seen her several times, but I love you just the same."

Long after the victories of Washington over the French and English had made his name familiar to all Europe, Benjamin Franklin chanced to dine with the English and French Amba.s.sadors, when the following toasts were drunk:

"'England'--The Sun, whose bright beams enlighten and fructify the remotest corners of the earth."

The French Amba.s.sador, filled with national pride, but too polite to dispute the previous toast, offered the following:

"'France'--The Moon, whose mild, steady and cheering rays are the delight of all nations, consoling them in darkness and making their dreariness beautiful."

Doctor Franklin then arose, and, with his usual dignified simplicity, said:

"'George Washington'--The Joshua who commanded the Sun and Moon to stand still, and they obeyed him."

The following appeal of a Western editor is still going the rounds, although it is to be hoped that by this time the writer's only trouble is in having his vest made large enough:

"We see by an esteemed contemporary that a young lady in Chicago is so particular that she kneads bread with her gloves on. What of that? The editor of this paper needs bread with his coat on; he needs bread with his trousers on; in fact he needs bread with all of his clothes on.

And if some of his debtors don't pay up pretty quick he'll need bread without anything at all on, and this Western climate is no Garden of Eden."