Good Stories Reprinted from the Ladies' Home Journal of Philadelphia Part 2

_What Do You Think the Porter Did_?

A lady in the centre seat of the parlor car heard the request of a fellow-pa.s.senger directly opposite asking the porter to open the window, and, scenting a draft, she immediately drew a cloak about her.

"Porter, if that window is opened," she snapped testily, "I shall freeze to death."

"And if the window is kept closed," returned the other pa.s.senger, "I shall surely suffocate."

The poor porter stood absolutely puzzled between the two fires.

"Say, boss," he finally said to a commercial traveler seated near by, "what would you do?"

"Do?" echoed the traveler. "Why, man, that is a very simple matter; open the window and freeze one lady. Then close it and suffocate the other."

_She Said It_

A visitor of n.o.ble birth was expected to arrive at a large country house in the North of England, and the daughter of the house, aged seven, was receiving final instructions from her mother.

"And now, dear," she said, "when the Duke speaks to you do not forget always to say 'your Grace.'"

Presently the great man arrived, and after greeting his host and hostess he said to the child, "Well, my dear, and what is your name?"

Judge of his surprise when the little girl solemnly closed her eyes and with clasped hands exclaimed, "For what we are about to receive may we be truly fankful, amen."

_His Idea of Genius_

A young man once said to Thomas A. Edison, the inventor; "Mr. Edison, don't you believe that genius is inspiration?"

"No," replied Edison; "genius is _per_spiration."

_Took the Wrong House_

On one of the Southern railroads there is a station-building that is commonly known by travelers as the smallest railroad station in America. It is of this station that the story is told that an old farmer was expecting a chicken-house to arrive there, and he sent one of his hands, a newcomer, to fetch it. Arriving there the man saw the house, loaded it on to his wagon and started for home. On the way he met a man in uniform with the words "Station Agent" on his cap.

"Say, hold on. What have you got on that wagon?" he asked.

"My chicken-house, of course," was the reply.

"Chicken-house be jiggeredl" exploded the official. "That's the station!"

_And Tommy Did_

"And now," said the teacher, "I want Tommy to tell the school who was most concerned when Absalom got hung by the hair ?"

TOMMY: "Abs'lom."

_The Prayer of Cyrus Brown_

"The proper way for a man to pray,"

Said Deacon Lemuel Keyes, "And the only proper att.i.tude, Is down upon his knees."

"No, I should say the way to pray,"

Said Reverend Doctor Wise, "Is standing straight, with outstretched arms, And rapt and upturned eyes."

"Oh, no; no, no," said Elder Slow, "Such posture is too proud: A man should pray with eyes fast closed And head contritely bowed."

"It seems to me his hands should be Austerely clasped in front, With both thumbs pointing toward the ground,"

Said Reverend Doctor Blunt.

"Las' year I fell in Hodgkin's well Head first," said Cyrus Brown, "With both my heels a-stickin' up, My head a-p'inting down,

"An' I made a prayer right then an' there-- Best prayer I ever said, The prayingest prayer I ever prayed, A-standing on my head."

--SAM WALTER FOSS.

_Couldn't Tell Which_

Jones had come home later than usual and had ready a good explanation, but his wife gave him no chance, and immediately began to tell him what she thought of him. He endured it patiently all evening, quietly read his paper and went to bed. His wife was still talking.

When he was almost asleep he could hear her still scolding him unmercifully. He dropped off to sleep and awoke after a couple of hours, only to hear his wife remark:

"I hope all the women don't have to put up with such conduct as this."

"Annie," said Jones, "are you talking again or yet?"

_The Greater Calamity_

Two or three urchins were running down a long and very steep flight of steps, when the foremost stumbled and fell headlong twenty to thirty feet, and was only stopped near the bottom by doubling backward around the newel-post. It looked as though his back was broken, and that he was a dead small boy, but he gathered himself up, thrust his hands anxiously in his trousers' pockets, and e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed;

"B' gosh, I b'l'eve I lost a cent."

_Her First Railroad Ride_