2t-cu 
 
 Nuggets of wit from the world’s richest mines. 
 
 R. S. Rhodes. 
 
 Chicago, June ist, 1898, 
 
 96 : 
 
 P:'? 
 
BY H. delay. 
 
 OPPOSITE PAGE 
 
 Frontispiece 
 
 A Business with Her 21 
 
 Chauncey M. Depew 20 
 
 He Couldn’t Go the Grass 24 
 
 She Obtained a Seat 26 
 
 Too High-Toned Hired Hen 30 
 
 Old Man’s Banking Experience 32 
 
 A Strike of Other Days 39 
 
 Ripe Limburger 43 
 
 “ She Told Me to Try ’Em First on the Boarders”. . 48 
 
 A Boston Child’s Wisdom 50 
 
 The Earth 52 
 
 Something Appropriate 56 
 
 The Price of Raisins 59 
 
 When the Shingle Is Hot 63 
 
 The Rebel Yell 66 
 
 Mark Twain on Beecher 73 
 
 “ It Cost Pa $10,000. 76 
 
 The Puppy Was Hungry 78 
 
 Begorra ! Yis, Tache the B’y to Spake Airish 85 
 
 While There’s Life There’s Hope 86 
 
 Another Victim Oi Overwork 93 
 
 “ I’d Give My Clothes for His Teeth.” 95 
 
 [16] 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 CONTINUED. 
 
 OPPOSITE PAGE 
 
 The Doctor’s Profanity 103 
 
 The Cyclone Swooped Down 105 
 
 Good Reason for Walking So Far iii 
 
 Never Too Old to Learn 1 1 5 
 
 A Far-Reaching Multitude of Dogs ' 117 
 
 In Perfect Bliss 126 
 
 ‘ ‘ And Her Mourning Isn’t Ready. ” 134 
 
 Taught That Frog to Jump 139 
 
 He Belched Out a Double Handful of Shot 145 
 
 Told in Confidence 146 
 
 He Helped Himself to Some Jam 148 
 
 The Meddlesome Ducks 155 
 
 Bro. Gardner 160 
 
 “But Oh, I’m Not a Fish-Woman!” 168 
 
 “ Is the Wawho- Wang- Wang Happy U 182 
 
 “ Where Did I Leave My Shirt T 187 
 
 The Dignity of Office 198 
 
 “How Is It that Milo Makes All His Venuses With- 
 out Arms U 206 
 
 “ He Is Unsociable.” 209 
 
 It Occurred to Him to Look at the Clothes-Line. . . .222 
 
 Made a Profit 228 
 
 What Their Bible Contained 232 
 
 “That Lying Old Thing!” 237 
 
 Down with the Tyrants ! 248 
 
 It Was an Eye-Tooth That Bothered Him 252 
 
 Unfortunate 254 
 
 ‘ ‘ I Practice Entirely by Ear. ” 258 
 
 [17] 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 CONTINUED, 
 
 OPPOSITE PAGE 
 
 Worried Over Labor Troubles 270 
 
 A Primary Lesson 272 
 
 “ I Dearly Love to Be a Bachelor.” 278 
 
 It Could Go Out 288 
 
 She Had Her Revenge 295 
 
 “Only Look Within My Eyes.” 301 
 
 “ I Met Her on West Hampton Beach.” 310 
 
 A Good Reason 321 
 
 Four-Ply Love 328 
 
 Enoch Telephoned His Family Physician 332 
 
 Why He Wanted the Boot 337 
 
 “I Have Only Eaten a Couple of Very Distant Rela- 
 tives.” 341 
 
 It Made a Difference 348 
 
 How He Missed It 358 
 
 A Vulgar Combination 368 
 
 A Long, Bony Arm Was Thrust Into De Makeshift’s 
 
 Cell 371 
 
 The Girl with the Muslin Gown 378 
 
 A New Material for Bonnets 381 
 
 Getting at the Pass-Word 387 
 
 “Tink I’d Keep Walybles in the Entry.?” 389 
 
 The Chemistry of Food 391 
 
 She Forgot that Dress-Coats Were Outre 392 
 
 Business Is Business 395 
 
 The Sweet Girl Graduate 397 
 
 Bill Nye Condoles with Cleveland 401 
 
 Grover Cleveland.. 401 
 
 [18] 
 

 
 \ 
 
A BUSINESS WITH HER. 
 
 P. 24, 
 
CHAUNCEY M. DEPEW’S STORY. 
 
 ONE WHICH HE WON’T TELL THE NEXT TIME HE GOES 
 TO CHICAGO. 
 
 Chicagoan for a, second and 
 Heaven.’ ” 
 
 ‘ ‘ There was once a prom- 
 inent man in Chicago who, 
 like all others out there, had 
 a very exalted opinion of his 
 town. He died, and when 
 he reached his eternal home 
 he looked about him with 
 much surprise and said to 
 the attendant, who had just 
 opened the gate for him: 
 ‘ Really, this does great 
 credit to Chicago. I ex- 
 pected some change in 
 Heaven.’ 
 
 ‘ ‘ The attendant eyed the 
 then observed: ‘This isn’t 
 
 [ 21 ] 
 
22 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 DEPEW’S. EXPERIENCE IN OFFICE-SEEKING. 
 
 Chauncey M. Depew says that he has had personal 
 experience in seeking office — not for himself, however, 
 but for others — from every Republican President. He 
 said that Mr. Lincoln would always listen attentively to 
 what he had to say, and then tell a funny story. On his 
 way back to the hotel he would think over the story, and 
 finally see that it landed his candidate way out of sight. 
 
 Gen. Grant always received an application for office as 
 toasts to- the memory of Washington are drunk — stand- 
 ing and in silence. 
 
 President Hayes listened for a while, then broke out 
 into lamentations that the attention of the President of 
 the United States should be diverted from the great affairs 
 of state to distribute patronage. Then he would make 
 a memorandum in a little red book which was to remind 
 him not to do it. 
 
 Gen. Garfield would put his arm around your neck, 
 tell you how much he loved you, and then forget what 
 you had asked of him. 
 
 President Arthur would listen with polite attention to 
 all you had to say; then he would refer you to some man 
 in New York whom you were never able to find. 
 
 President Harrison would sink down into his chair till 
 you had presented the claims of your candidate, and then 
 change the subject. 
 
 Of President McKinley’s peculiarities in this respect I 
 am not prepared to speak from personal experience. 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 23 
 
 MR. IRVING’S STORY. 
 
 On one occasion, shortly after Queen Victoria’s visit to 
 her castle at Balmoral, Mr. Irving, who was traveling 
 through the country, met an old Scotch woman, with 
 whom he spoke of her Majesty. 
 
 “The Queen’s a good woman,” he said. 
 
 “I suppose she’s gude enough, but there are things I- 
 cannabear. ” 
 
 “What do you mean.?” asked Mr. Irving. 
 
 “Well ! I think there are things that even the Queen 
 has no recht to do. For one thing, she goes rowing on 
 the lak on Soonday; and it ’s not a Chreestian thing to 
 do !” 
 
 “But, you know, the Bible tells us ” 
 
 “I knaw,” she interrupted angrily. “I ’ve read the 
 Bible since I was so high, an’ I knaw ev’ry word in ’t. I 
 knaw aboot the Soonday fishing and a’ the other things 
 the good Lord did; but I want ye to knaw, too, that I 
 don’t think any the more, e’en of Him, for a-doin’ it.” 
 
 A SOFT ANSWER TURNS AWAY WRATH. 
 
 Charles Burleigh, in the midst of a political speech, 
 was struck full in the face by a rotten egg. Pausing to 
 wipe away the contents of the missile, he said calmly : 
 “ I have always contended that my opponents’ arguments 
 were very unsound.” The crowd roared, and he was no 
 longer molested. 
 
U THE WORLDS B • 
 
 ffl. ©WAIN’S Diplomacy. 
 
 At a recent dinner party the subject of eternal 
 hfe and future punishment came up for a lengthy 
 discussion, in which Mark Twain took no part. A 
 lady near him turned suddenly toward him, and 
 • exclaimed : 
 
 “Why do you not say anything? I want your 
 opinion?” 
 
 Twain rephed gravely: “Madame, you must ex- 
 cuse me. I am silent of necessity. I have friends 
 in both places.” 
 
 Y}E ©OULDN’ip Go THE GI^ASS. 
 
 They tell a good story on a South Georgia states- 
 man who went to Charleston in the old days and 
 stopped at a hotel. 
 
 A waiter brought him some shrimps, which the 
 Georgian stowed away as best he could. In a mo- 
 ment the waiter reappeared with a stand of celery. 
 
 ^‘No,” said the Georgian, shaking his head 
 solemnly, ‘T have tried your bugs and I don’t hke 
 them, and you can bet yer life I don’t want none 
 er your grass !” — Atlanta Constitution. 
 
 Business with Y}E^. 
 
 A careful housewife, upon entering her kitchen, 
 said to the colored cook : 
 
HE couldn’t go the GRASS. 
 
 P. 24. 
 
/ 
 
 ? 
 
 
 
 
 ( ' ‘ - : • . 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 25 
 
 ^‘Great goodness! Jane, yon must be more care- 
 ful. Yon are not clean enough in your cooking.” 
 
 ‘•Lady,” replied the cook, as she took up a 23iece 
 of beef that had fallen on the floor, “I sees dat 
 yer’s gwine ter ack foolish wid me. Ain’t yer got 
 nothin’ ter do ’cept ter fool roun’ out heah?” 
 
 “It’s my business to come out here occasionally.” 
 
 “All right, den; hab it yer own way, but I wanter 
 say one thing: Ef yer wants ter ’joy yesse’f at de 
 table an’ eat wid er ’cornin’ apertite yer’d better 
 stay outen dis kitchen. Yas,” she added, as she 
 wiped a dish with a dirty rag, “yer’d better not 
 nose roun’ heah, fur cookin’ is er bus’ness wid me, 
 an’ when er pusson is ’gaged in bus’ness, foohsh- 
 ness is awful troublesome.” 
 
 Row ©hem Both. 
 
 Mrs. De Boggs — Did you take Johnny to school, 
 J eremiah ? 
 
 Mr. De Boggs — I did. An excellent school it is, 
 Matilda. The scholars are models of deportment, 
 the curriculum is first-class and the professor a 
 man of abihty. At least that is the way he struck 
 me. 
 
 Johnny (with a groan) — You ought to have 
 stayed about an hour and seen how he struck me. 
 
26 
 
 TEE WORLES 
 
 ©ILJH ON JPHE gUESJTION. 
 
 ‘‘Julia, I don’t see wliy you are going to marry 
 Harry Bascomb. He hasn’t any money and it is 
 not likely that he’ll ever have any.” 
 
 “Fanny, I’d scorn to marry for money. Harry 
 is handsome and a fine athlete. He would bring 
 to me a sense of protection — ” 
 
 “O, that’s all right, Julia. Every one to their 
 mind. You may marry for protection; I intend to 
 marry for revenue.” 
 
 She Obtained a Seat. 
 
 As sharp a woman as Jake Sharp himself, says 
 the New York Worlds entered a car on his new 
 Broadway line yesterday and found herself the only 
 female passenger. All the seats were taken. The 
 woman’s face was flat as though made out of muddy 
 paste, with one cheek-bone considerably higher 
 than the other. A thick nose and a wide mouth 
 with bluish-black lips made picturesque the lower 
 part of the face, and nature had enveloped it aU 
 with a dark, yellowish, freckled skin. The passen- 
 gers saw all this with a single glance and settled 
 themselves comfortably in their seats. 
 
 The woman stood a moment at the door. Her 
 small, black eyes glared viciously straight ahead. 
 
SHE OBTAINED A SEAT. 
 
 P. 26. 
 

WIT AND WITS. 
 
 27 
 
 Suddenly she strode to the center of the car and 
 deliberately planted herself on the lap of an old 
 man. 
 
 Madam,” he expostulated, ‘^you forget your- 
 self.” 
 
 “If you don’t like it, get up and give me your 
 seat,” she replied, composedly. A twinkle of mirth 
 not unmixed with malice glistened in her eyes. 
 
 “Madam, I can’t have you sitting on my lap,” 
 said the old man, and he gave her a push. The 
 woman wheeled around and seated herself on the 
 lap of a sickly looking man on the other side of the 
 car. “Oh, oh, my toe!” he howled. “Say, you 
 are stepping all over me!” 
 
 She jumped up and took a seat on the lap of a 
 300-pound German passenger. 
 
 “Excuse me, madam,” said he. On his face the 
 perspiration was rolling down. “If you was got up 
 I give you my place. I was sweating awful.” 
 
 The woman secured a seat at last and she 
 glanced triumphantly at the passengers. Not one 
 of them dared to lift his eyes to the woman’s face 
 after this. They stared out of the window or kept 
 their eyes rooted to the ground. The woman sig- 
 nalled the conductor to stop at Chambers street, 
 and as she flounced to the door with a spiteful look 
 she exclaimed: “You are a nice set of gents, you 
 are. You can’t tell a lady when you see one. 
 
28 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 Next time I hope yon won’t forget your manners.” 
 
 The conductor found a small bundle where the 
 woman had been seated. He opened it and dis- 
 covered a scrub-rag, a scrub-brush, and a cake of 
 soap. 
 
 ^ Hew Disease. 
 
 ‘^Bromley, is it true that you lost your hired 
 girl?” 
 
 “Yes, Mr. Dusenberry, she died.” 
 
 “Ah! What of?” 
 
 “Corroboration.” 
 
 “Of ivhat V 
 
 “Corroboration. She wanted to know whether 
 there was really any risk in hghting the fire with 
 kerosene.” 
 
 BOSTONESE POI^ IPHE D. ©. 
 
 The Boston girl never refers to dehrium tremens 
 as the jim-jams. She drops decorously into slang 
 by calhng it the tight squeezes a la James. — 
 Hatchet. 
 
 “Sold” Both 05ays. 
 
 “Did you take those boots of mine to be soled, 
 Larry?” 
 
 “I did, sor; and see the thrifie the blag’yard 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 29 
 
 gave for ’m! — said they was purty nigh wore 
 through!” 
 
 ^ G. OP JPHB e. gUBI^Y. 
 
 Why does the “girl of the period” make the best 
 housekeeper? Because she makes so much bustle 
 about a little waist. 
 
 BAI^S ^BLL-r^AMBD. 
 
 A bar in the river and a bar on shore have the 
 same name, because water is scarce in both places. 
 
 '‘Rot” poi^ F^bmbmbi^angb. 
 
 A girl went to the wharf to see her sailor sweet- 
 heart off the other day, and as the ship started he 
 called back, “Don’t forget me Sally.” Whereupon 
 she tied a knot in the corner of her handkerchief 
 to remind her to remember him. 
 
 Boy "Foi^ty-Rinbi^,” 
 
 A day or two since a lad some eight years of age 
 said to his mother, “Mother, which are we. Cath- 
 olics or Episcopals?” 
 
 “We ain’t any of them,” said a younger brother, 
 chipping in; “we’re Percific Coast Pierneers.” 
 
30 
 
 THE ^YORLHS 
 
 Soo r7lGH-©ONED r^II^ED fflEN. 
 
 “Yes, I come in after a hired man,” said the old 
 farmer as he sipped his root-heer on the market 
 yesterday, “but I’ve got disgusted and shan’t try 
 very hard to find one.” 
 
 “What’s the matter vdth hired men?” 
 
 “Too high-toned and important. WTiy, I had 
 one last spring vho rigged up an umbreUa over the 
 plow so as not to get tanned, and he refused to eat 
 with the family because we stuck our knives in our 
 mouths! At the end of a week he quit. Said 
 that labor was ennobling and so forth, but the land- 
 scajDe in that vicinity oft'ended his taste.” 
 
 “Yes.” 
 
 “Wall, I took on another, and he put on cufis 
 and pohshed his boots before going to work, and he 
 quit at the end of a fortnight because we didn’t 
 have a pianner in the house. Why, that chap 
 never got up till 7 o’clock, and he insisted on go- 
 ing to the village to get shaved and perfumed up 
 every other evening. 
 
 “The third one quit me yesterday. He wanted 
 stained glass in his bedroom winder. He wanted 
 me to buy him a guitar. He wanted to paint all 
 the roofs red and put pea-green on the corn-cribs. 
 He suggested a hog-pen with a parlor to it, and he 
 spent two days of my time trying to arrange a way 
 for the windmill to milk the cows. I found him 
 
TOO HIGH-TONED HIRED MEN. 
 
 P. 30 
 

WIT AND WITS. 
 
 31 
 
 writing poetry in the corn field, and because I 
 spoke up sharply he quit the job, polished up his 
 boots, and sent for a coupay to bring him to the 
 city .” — Detroit Free Press. 
 
 (Sough on ithe Geese. 
 
 ‘‘Waiter,” said a gentleman in the dining-car, 
 “have you any gooseberry pie?” 
 
 “No, sab; hain’t carryin’ any this yeah; sah.” 
 
 “Why is that?” 
 
 “Well, you see, sah, they’s sea’s this seasum. 
 Las’ winter was so cole an’ stormy that it was 
 mighty tough on de geese.” 
 
 fl ©ELLiING ©EMPEI^ANGE liEGiTUl^E. 
 
 Two colored barbers, one an old man and the 
 other a young one. The young one took off his 
 apron and started out of the door. 
 
 “Yo’s gwine to get a drink, Jim?” asked the 
 elder. 
 
 “Dat’s what I’s gwine to do.” 
 
 “Go and get yo’ drink. I yoost ter do de same 
 ting when I was young. When I wuz fust married 
 dah was a ginmill next to de shop wha’ I wucked, 
 and I spent in it fifty and sebenty cents a day 
 outen de dollah ’a half I eahned. Well, one mawn- 
 in’ I went into de butchah shop, and who shood 
 cum in but de man wat kep’ de likker shop. 
 
32 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 ^Gib me ten or twelve pounds po’terhoiise 
 steak,’ he said. 
 
 “He got it and went out. I sneaked- up to de 
 butcliali and looked to see what money I had left. 
 
 “ ‘What do you want?’ *said de butchah. 
 
 “ ‘Gib me ten cents wuf of libber,’ wuiz my re- 
 mark. 
 
 “It wuz all I could pay fur. Now you go and 
 git yo’ drink. You’ll eat libber, but de man wat 
 sells yo’ de stuff will hab his po’terhouse steak. 
 De man bellin’ de bar eats po’terhouse — de man in 
 front eats libber. I ain’t touched de stuff fo’ thirty 
 yeahs, and I am eatin’ po’terhouse, myself.” 
 
 Old Hbd’s Bani^ing' GxPEf^iENGE. 
 
 AFTEK BEING A DEPOSITOE HE LOSES CONFIDENCE IN THE 
 
 CONCERN. 
 
 Old Ned Daniels came to the city several days 
 ago, for the purpose, he told a friend, of depositing 
 his money in a place of safety. He was afraid, he 
 declared, that some of his neighbors, knowing that 
 he had money, might rob him. Those who heard 
 him talk thought that he had at least possessed 
 several hundred dollars. Keaching the bank, he 
 said to an official: “Mister, I wants ter ’posit some 
 money in dis heah house. Ken I put $10 in heah?” 
 
 “Oh, yes, you can put in any amount.” 
 
OLD man’s banking EXPERIENCE. 
 
 P. 32. 
 
% 
 
 - 
 
^Y1T AND WITS. 
 
 33 
 
 “No, I kain’t.” 
 
 “Yes, you can.” 
 
 “I says dat I‘ kain’t, fur I' hain’t got any 
 ermount. Er haw, haw, I got yer dat time. Wall, 
 now, put dis $10 back in dar furs afe keepin’.” 
 
 The official took the money and handing the old 
 negro a small book, said : 
 
 “Give me your signature.” 
 
 tT ain’t got er one, boss. Lef’ ’em all at home, 
 I thinks.” 
 
 “Write your name here.” 
 
 “Oh, yes, I ken do dat.” 
 
 After much labor he wrote his name. He was 
 greatly pleased with the performance, and after he 
 went outside he stood for a time, grinning with 
 satisfaction. One of his country acquaintances ac- 
 costed him : 
 
 “How’re yer, Bruder Ned?” 
 
 “Why, bless me, ef dis ain’t Bruder Eodney. 
 Whut yer doin’ up heah, man?” 
 
 “Oh, nuthin’ much. Jes knockin’ roun’ er httle. 
 Whut yer doin’, yesse’f?” 
 
 “W’y I’se got ter be er man o’ biggest sorter 
 ’portance. Yer oughter seed me jes now.” 
 
 “What wuz yer doin’?” 
 
 “Writin’ fur er bank. Mor’n dat, I put some 
 money in de bank.” 
 
 3 
 
34 
 
 THE WORLD" S 
 
 “Now, look heah, man, I tonght dat yer done 
 had more sense dan dat. De fust ting yer knows 
 de bank g^vineter be broke, an’ er white man 
 gwineter run off wid yer money.” 
 
 Old Ned was troubled. He bad beard of bank 
 failures, and now be regretted that be bad placed 
 so much confidence in men who were strangers to 
 him, but remembering that be could get bis money, 
 be went to the bank, and addressing a man who 
 was counting money behind a network of wire, 
 said : 
 
 “Look beab, yer got dat $10 yit?” 
 
 “What $10?” 
 
 “De money dat I juit in beab jes now.” 
 
 “I don’t know. Come aroimd some time when 
 the bank’s open.” 
 
 “Ain’t de bank open now?” 
 
 “No.” 
 
 “I say it is. Wa’n’t open I couldn’t git in 
 beab.” 
 
 “Go on away, I teU you. If you don’t go I’U 
 call a policeman.” 
 
 “Ob, I’ll go. Eob er man, an’ den want ter 
 ’rest him fur it.” 
 
 “Come around to-morrow, old man.” 
 
 After a sleepless night. Old Ned went to the 
 bank. The same man whom be had seen on the 
 previous evening stood behind the network of wire, 
 
SUDDEN WEALTH. 
 
 P. 38. 
 

 
WIT Ann WITS. 
 
 36 
 
 still counting money. 
 
 “Wall, sah, I’se lieah.” 
 
 “You’ll have to wait until the bank opens.” 
 
 “Look aheah, ain’t it open yit?” 
 
 “No.” 
 
 “Dis heah is the wust house I eber seed. Ei 
 pusson ken git inter hit jes as well when it’s shet 
 ez he ken when it’s open. I want that $10 now. 
 I’se tired o’ foolin’ wid dis heah ’stahlishment.” 
 
 “Go on, old man, and come back after awhile.” 
 
 “I’se dun been erway an’ I’se dun come back 
 arter a while. You folks hah dun stole dat $10 
 an’ is now libin’ on de fat o’ de Ian’. Oh, yer 
 needn’t ter laugh. I’se gwine erway, an’ stay er 
 few minits an’ den when I comes hack I wants 
 sat’sfackshun.” 
 
 About an hour afterward when he returned the 
 bank was open. 
 
 “I want dat $10.” 
 
 “Well, make out a check.” 
 
 ‘‘How make out er check?” 
 
 “Here, I’ll fix it for you. Now sign your name 
 to this,” he added. “Here you are,” handing him 
 the $10. “Now go on away and don’t come back 
 here any more.” 
 
 “Dat ’vice am onnecessary, sah. I’ll neber come 
 heah ergin. Dis heah is tpo much o’ er open an’ 
 shet bus’ness ter suit me. Dis ain’t de same 
 
36 
 
 THE V;^0BLH8 
 
 money I j)ut in lieah, an’ I wouldn’t be s ’prized ef 
 it wa’n’t counterfeit. Dis settles me wid de bank- 
 ers, ’ca’se I ain’t bad no peace since I’se been run- 
 nin’ wid ’em.. Good day. Yer’s foobn’ wid de 
 wrong man when yer foolin’ wid me.” 
 
 — Opie P. Reid. 
 
 Y}is I^EPUTATioN Upheld. 
 
 Father — No, sir; it shan’t be said of me that I 
 wanted my gals to get sphced so bad that I had to 
 go out and lasso ’em and bring the young men in. 
 
 One of the girls — No, father I Nobly said! Give 
 me the lasso ! 
 
 fl Shi^ewd Gir^L. 
 
 A piece of evidence in a Quebec breach-of prom- 
 ise case was a cuff with an offer of marriage written 
 on it. One night, while the defendant was holding 
 the plaintiff’s hand and whispering fer^dd words, he 
 popped the question in manuscript on the smooth 
 linen of her wrist. She was sentimental or shrewd 
 enough to keep that article out of wash, and now 
 it is of practical value. 
 
 ©HE Gip^ls of Ghei^i^yyale. 
 
 Kansas, the land of corn and contentment, is 
 prohfic also in fair women and brave men. Your 
 

 
 a 
 
HE WILL NOT COMEIN ALL THIS RAIN. 
 
 P. 38. 
 
WJT AND WITS, 
 
 37 
 
 Kansas girl is as plump as a partridge, as coy as a 
 quail ; healthy, hearty, active, independent and 
 happy as the big sunflowers of which that State is 
 so justly proud. And there is a spot in Kansas 
 where female loveliness seems to have been crys- 
 tahzed and concentrated, as it were. That elysium 
 is very appropriately named Cherry vale. Cherry- 
 vale! — Vale of Cherries! Name suggestive of coral 
 bps and rosy cheeks. Name full of sweet and juicy 
 promise. One’s mouth waters when he attempts 
 to pronounce the luscious word, and he thinks of 
 ruby treasures half hidden in bright foliage, dehc- 
 ious, but hard to get. And the maidens of this 
 modern paradise are just as pretty and sweet and 
 plump as the fruit of whose praises we sing, for, in 
 the language of a newspaper printed in that Uto- 
 pian village, “Neither bustle nor corset is worn in 
 Cherry vale.” 
 
 OFI A BAPIPISIP IXOYBI^. 
 
 It was raining in torrents, and Evangehne stood 
 by her window looking out into the night. “Why 
 dost thou wait here, Evangehne, my daughter?” 
 inquired the mother. 
 
 “I am waiting for Gabriel, mother,” replied the 
 girl, tenderly. 
 
 ‘‘He will not come, my dear, in all this rain.” 
 
88 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 ‘‘Yes, he will, mother mine. Gabriel does not 
 fear a little wet like this. He is a Baptist.” 
 
 In ten minutes Gabriel was in the parlor asking 
 for a drink of water . — Rittshurg Dispatch. 
 
 ^ 
 
 SUDDEN Health. 
 
 Old gentleman (to tramp, to whom he has just 
 given a nickel) — Now, my friend, what will you do 
 with all that money? 
 
 Tramp (gazing awe struck at the nickel)— I think 
 I’ll put part of it in the bank, sir, and the rest I’ll 
 spend for a peach-blow vase. 
 
 ©HE IMPI^ESSIONIST. 
 
 Oh, pluck me a pink from a dizzy profusion 
 Of posies, exotics, and mints ; 
 
 And let me enjoy this delirious illusion — 
 
 This mad conflagration of tints. 
 
 I see it, I feel it, no limit can hind me. 
 
 This pleasure is surely too much ; 
 
 Somebody must hurry, and hustle and find ro^-^ 
 Or I shall collapse at a touch. 
 
 To tell it to others is out of my power, 
 
 Just what is the matter with me ; 
 
 It thrills me, and fills me, this peep at a flower, 
 And makes me too giddy to be. 
 
 — Atlanta Constitution, 
 

 rnr?Amr 
 
 r c r ,r 
 
 
 
JSr-:-; 
 
 A STRIKE OF OTPIER DAYS. 
 
 P- 39- 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 39 
 
 fl OP OiPHEi^ Days 
 
 BUEDETTE. 
 
 These strikes by the school children are nothing 
 new. But they don’t develop and bring out and 
 down the strong hand of the ruling power as they 
 used to. Among the sunny memories of my own 
 school days there glows, bright and soft as a sum- 
 mer sunset, the picture of the great strike at Hin- 
 man’s, in Peoria, away back in 1853. Hinman’s 
 was the greatest school in the West. The dear old 
 man was Superintendent of Public Instruction, 
 Board of Education, School Trustee, County Su- 
 perintendent, Principal, assistant, and janitor. He 
 had a pleasant smile, a firm temper, and a slate 
 frame. He also" carried about his person a grip 
 that would make a blacksmith’s vise crawl into the 
 scrap heap and hide itself. We used to have gen- 
 eral excerises Friday afternoons, at which we were 
 wont to recite in vociferous concert the multipli- 
 cation tables, the States and Capitals, and such 
 thrilhng rhetorical excerises as “Will you tualM or 
 rideT' and “They tell its to be Monerate, but tliey^ 
 THEY — are torevelinpro FU-sion !” It was thrilling. 
 But after we had learned all these chants“ by heart” 
 and could chant them off with' our eyes shut, “Old 
 Hinrnan” introduced an innovation — “speakin’ 
 
40 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 pieces.” Upon that we struck. We endured it 
 three weeks and then we determined to boycott 
 the whole business. All the boys went into it. Bill 
 Smith and Hub Tuttle, Bob Gregg, Ed Easton, 
 Steve Bunn, Bill Eodecker, Hen Keener, and all 
 the big boys, too. The first hoy called on to 
 “speak” was to announce the strike, and as my 
 name came pretty well up in the alfabet, I stood a 
 good chance of being a leader, a distinction for 
 which I was not at all ambitious, because of tender 
 years and of a ruddy countenance and sensitive feel- 
 ings. But a boy named Allen, who was called 
 ahead of me, flunked, and said his piece, “Hohen- 
 hnden,” although we made such suggestive ges- 
 tures at him that he forgot half of it and broke 
 down and cried. When I was called I refused to 
 speak. Being pressed for a reason, I said, in fal- 
 tering accents, that ‘There wasn’t goin’ to be no 
 more speakin’.” When the old man, with un- 
 feigned surprise, asked me who said so, I said “all 
 of us did.” Then he said there would he “a httle 
 more speaking” before the close of the session, and 
 so he led me out upon the rostrum. Then and 
 there, vith feehngs which I now shudder to recall, 
 I did my first song and dance act. I had often 
 before performed my sohtary cachuca to the lasciv- 
 ious pleasing of “Old Hinman’s” slate frame, but 
 never had I accompanied myself with words. Boy 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 41 
 
 like, I had selected for my piece a poem expressive 
 of those peaceful virtues I most heartly despised, 
 so that my performance at the inauguration of the 
 strike ran somewhat like this : 
 
 ^‘0, not forme (whack!) is the rolling (whack!) 
 drum. 
 
 Or the (whack, whack!) trumpet’s wild (whack) 
 appeal. Boo hoo ! 
 
 Or the cry (Boo hoo) of (whack) war when the 
 (whack) foe is come, 
 
 Or the (Ow!) brightly (whack) flashing steel” 
 (whack, whack). 
 
 I cannot convey to the most vivid imagination 
 the gestures which accompanied the seven stanzas 
 of this beautiful poem. Suffice it to say that they 
 kept pace with the old man’s peculiar system of 
 punctuation until at last, overcome with conflicting 
 emotions, I went sobbing to my seat and won- 
 dered why an inscrutable Providence had given to 
 the rhinoceros the hide that the eternal fitness of 
 things had evidently prepared for the school-boy. 
 
 But I forgot my own sorrows and dried my tears 
 in the enjoyment of the play, as my compatriots 
 developed it. Mr. Hinman, who had been un- 
 usually gentle and self-restrained with me, lost his 
 temper with the boy who followed me, and there 
 was a sound of revelry for the next hour. He 
 shook boys until their teeth rattled so you couldn’t 
 
42 
 
 TEE W0RLE8 
 
 hear them cry; he hit Mickey McCann, the tough 
 boy, one whack mth a skate strap and Mickey ran 
 out and rolled in the snow to cool off; he hit Jake 
 Bailey across the thighs with the slate frame and 
 it hurt so that Jake couldn’t howl — he just opened 
 his mouth and gasped and forgot his own name ; he 
 pushed Bill Haskell into a seat and the bench 
 broke ; he shook Dan Stevens so that his feet didn’t 
 touch the floor for five minutes ; he ran across the 
 room and reached out for Lem Harkins, and Lem 
 had a fit before the old man touched him ; he whipped 
 the two Knowltons vdth both hands at the same 
 time, and the Gibbon family, five boys and a big - 
 girl, he hit all at once with a girl’s skipping rope 
 and they raised such a united wail the clock 
 stopped ; he kept the atmosphere of that old school- 
 room full, of dust, and sphnters, and hnt, weeping, 
 waihng, and gnashing of teeth, until his old arms 
 ached and all hearts wearied of the inhuman strife 
 and wicked contention, and then he stood up before 
 us, in a sickening tangle of strap, and cane, and 
 slate frame, rattan and skipping rope, and asked, in 
 clear, triumphant tones : 
 
 “Who says there 4sn’t going to be any more 
 speakin’?” 
 
 And the boys of that school rose np as one being 
 and shrieked in tones of anguish : 
 
 “Nobody!” 
 

 IV 
 
 
 ^ r 
 
 
RIPE LIMBURGER. 
 
 P- 43 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 43 
 
 And I, who led that strike and was its first 
 martyr, I have been “speakin” ever since. — 
 BrooMyn Eagle. 
 
 FJIPB LciMBai^GEF^. 
 
 “They didn’t pick that stuff quick enough, did 
 they, mamma?” asked a little hoy, as he passed a 
 grocery where several cakes of Limburger were 
 taking a breathing spell outside. 
 
 “©HE CQAY @UEEN” fflODEr^NIZED 
 AFTEK TENNYSON A LONG WAYS. 
 
 You must get my gum- shoes, mother, and my other 
 winter things. 
 
 To-morrow’ll be a sample day of our Chicago 
 springs ; 
 
 Of all the chilblain time, mother, the roughest, 
 rawest day; 
 
 For I’m to he queen of the May, mother, I’m to 
 be queen of the May. 
 
 There’s many a wise, wise girl, they say; hut none 
 can head me off ; 
 
 And will I be the May-queen sure? Well, I should 
 rather cough. 
 
 You know it’s done by vote, mother — I fixed that 
 yesterday ; 
 
U THE W0RLH8 
 
 So I’m to be queen of the May, mother, I’m to be 
 queen of the May. 
 
 I sleep so sound all night, mother, that I shall 
 never wake. 
 
 And might thereby miss all my chance of captur- 
 ing the cake ; 
 
 But I must get some boneset tea and liver-pads so 
 
 gay; 
 
 For I’m to be queen of the May, mother, I’m to be 
 queen of the May. 
 
 As I came through the tunnel whom think ye I 
 should meet 
 
 But Kobin, with his tooth-pick shoes and ecru 
 pants so sweet; 
 
 My heart was very sad, mother, all through the 
 matinee ; 
 
 But I’m to be queen of the May, mother, I’m to be 
 queen of the May. 
 
 They say he is dying all for love — (such stories 
 make me lame) — 
 
 And that ever since I fired him out he’s never been 
 the same. 
 
 They say I’m cruel-hearted, but I’m only making 
 hay; 
 
 For I’m to be queen of the May, mother, I’m to be 
 queen of the May. 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 45 
 
 I.attle Effie slian’t go with me to-morrow to the 
 green ; 
 
 She’s rather too attractive, and your daughter’s 
 wise, I ween. 
 
 I’ve- been eighteen now for summers three, nor 
 older grown a day ; 
 
 But I’m to he queen of the May, mother, I’m to be 
 queen of the May. 
 
 So wake and call me early, call me early, mother 
 dear; 
 
 Cook ham and eggs and buckwheat cakes, your 
 daughter’s heart to cheer. 
 
 Let sealskin sacque and waterproof and gum-shoes 
 greet the day. 
 
 For I’m to be queen of the M^, mother, I’m to be 
 queen of the May. 
 
 IOooden-Lcegged (Dan’s 
 
 Speaking of wooden legs, there is an old soldier 
 employed in the government service in this city 
 who has had some experience with an artificial 
 limb, his meat one having been taken off at the 
 knee. Among the most amusing was one with a 
 sleeping-car porter. This pampered railway tyrant 
 rai’ely earns his quarter all round by his pretense 
 of blacking shoes and flipping dust from his vie- 
 
46 
 
 THE WOBLHS 
 
 tim’s back, but it is the habit of this wooden-legged 
 man to utilize the darky in taking off that leg and 
 making him earn his hire. On one train he struck 
 an uppish sort of porter — a brother to the insuffer- 
 able swell who sings out : “Last call for dinnah in 
 the dining cah!” That darky stood around with a 
 languid dignity that would make a street corner 
 dude sick at heart. 
 
 The man with the wooden leg made up his mind 
 he would “wake that nigger up” before he chipped 
 in his quarter. 
 
 He told a couple of men in the car his purpose 
 and they joined with him. He wears his shoe 
 firmly fastened to the wooden leg, having no need 
 to remove it and having fallen once from a loose 
 shoe. After his berth had been made he went to 
 the dressing-room and unstrapped the leg, keeping 
 hold of the strap, and then got into the berth. 
 Then he called the porter. 
 
 “I’ve got rheumatism and can’t bend over,” he 
 said, “and I wish you’d pull off that shoe.” The 
 porter untied the shoe and tried to pull it off, but 
 it wouldn’t come. 
 
 “Pull hard,” said the passenger. 
 
 The darkey gave it another pull. 
 
 “Oh, brace against the berth and pull,” said the 
 passenger. The porter had blood in his eye. He 
 put his foot against the berth and pulled like a 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 47 
 
 dentist. The passenger let go the strap and the 
 darky fell back with the shoe and the leg. 
 
 “My God, you’ve pulled off my leg !” shrieked 
 the passenger. 
 
 The porter dropped it, and with his eyes bulging 
 and his teeth chattering he broke from the car. 
 He concealed himself in a corner of the baggage 
 car, and pretty soon the two other conspirators 
 came in, pretending they didn’t know where he 
 was, sat down on a trunk and talked over the awful 
 condition of the man whose leg had been pulled 
 off, and about the penalty the darky would have to 
 suffer if he should be caught. The porter was of 
 no service to anybody that night, even after they 
 explained the joke to him. 
 
 IJAW AND OF^DBF^. 
 
 Lew Campbell is a pious traveler who handles 
 baking-powder down south. Not long ago he went 
 into a local- option town, and the first dealer he 
 met came back at him. 
 
 “Did you know we were only recognizing local- 
 option men, now?” asked the merchant. 
 
 “No I didn’t know.” answered Lew, with a 
 conciliatory smile. 
 
 “Well, we are; and before I look at your samples 
 I want to know if you are an advocate of law and 
 order.” 
 
THE WORTHS 
 
 4S 
 
 ''Of course I am,” said Lew, with emphasis, “I 
 don’t care about the law, but you can bet I’m in 
 for an order every time .” — Merchant Traveler, 
 
 It ^AS (3UST the. ©king. 
 
 Customer — Mr. Pillroller, I want two pounds of 
 alum, right away. 
 
 Druggist — Sorry, sir, hut I haven’t an ounce of 
 alum in the shop; just this minute sold the last. I 
 have a very good article of baking powder, hoW' 
 ever, indorsed by Profs. — . 
 
 Customer — First-rate; give me a pound can. 
 There’s a little too much alum in it, but I can 
 make it do. 
 
 ©OMMENDABLE ^I^UDBNGB. 
 
 Smith (nervously) — Are you sure there are no. 
 toadstools among these mushrooms? 
 
 Mary (guileless) — They wuz bought for the 
 missus’ table, but she told me to try ’em first on 
 the boarders. 
 
 Ro Doubt as to Yjis Condition. 
 
 Harry — I hear that 3^011 have lost ^mur father. 
 Allow me to express m}^ synlpath3^ 
 
 Jack (with a sigh) — Thank ^mu. Yes, he has 
 gone ; but the event was expected for a long time, 
 
" BHE TOLD ME TO TRY 'EM FIRST ON THE BOARDERS. 
 
w 
 
 I 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 49 
 
 and the blow was consequently less severe than if 
 it had not been looked for. 
 
 H. — His property was large? 
 
 J. — Yes ; something like a quarter of a milhon. 
 
 H. — I heard that his intellect, owing to his ill- 
 ness, was somewhat feeble during his latter years. 
 Is there any probability of the will being contested ? 
 
 J. — No; father was quite sane when he made 
 his will. He left everything to me. 
 
 ©ELLING ©ALES IN GEOI^GIA. 
 
 Peyt Norman says he saw twenty-six horses, 
 hitched to twenty- six plows, run away in a corn-' 
 field at one time, and they made the corn fairly fly. 
 Buck Wheeler matched this tale with a pet coon 
 that used to watch a lady wash dishes. After she 
 got through the coon would soap himself all over, 
 get in the dish-water, and wash himself over with 
 the dish-rag. Peyt and Buck were immediately 
 arrested under a charge of high treason to truth 
 and brought before the boisterous court. Capt. 
 Judge Johnson, P. M., presiding, found guilty, and 
 sentenced to teU the truth (hard labor) for sixty 
 days, or cider and peanuts for the court. The case 
 
 will be appealed on technical grounds. 
 
 4 
 
50 
 
 THE WORLD'S 
 
 ^ Boston (Child’s Wisdom. 
 
 Dr. W is a well known physician at Dor- 
 
 chester. He has a httle son about 5 years old and 
 a daughter about 7. It has been his custom to 
 give the children a weekty allowance of 10 cents 
 each, in return for which they agree to have their 
 play tilings stowed away when through using them. 
 Last Friday evening he was approached by Bessie, 
 the httle girl, who remarked : 
 
 “Papa, I am going to strike. I want 20 cents a 
 week.” 
 
 “I can’t meet the demand,” rephed the doctor. 
 
 “Well, then, let’s arbitrate!” said Bessie. 
 
 ©HE SAr^TH. 
 
 BILL XYE. 
 
 The earth is that body in the solar system which 
 most of my readers now reside upon, and wliich 
 some of them, I regret to say, modestly desire to 
 own and control, forgetting that the earth is the 
 Lord’s, and the fullness thereof. Some men do not 
 care who owns the earth so long as they get the full- 
 ness. 
 
 The earth is 500,000,000 years of age, according 
 
A BOSTON child’s WISDOM 
 
 P. 5C. 
 

 
 -- 
 
 m ~ 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 51 
 
 to Prof. Proctor, but she doesn’t look it to me. 
 The Duke of Argyll maintains that she is 10,000,- 
 000 years old last August, but what does an ordin- 
 ary duke know about these things? So far as I 
 am concerned I will put Proctor’s memory against 
 that of any low-priced duke that I have ever seen. 
 
 Newton claimed that the earth would gradually 
 dry up and become porous, and that water would 
 at last become a curiosity. Many beleive this and 
 are rapidly preparing their systems by a rigid course 
 of treatment, so that they can live for years with- 
 out the use of water internally or externally. 
 
 Other scientists who have sat up nights to mon- 
 key with the solar system, and thereby shattered 
 their nervous systems, claim that the earth is get- 
 ting top-heavy at the north pole, and that one of 
 these days while we are thinking of something else, 
 the great weight of accummulated ice, snow, and 
 the vast accummulation of second-hand arctic relief 
 expeditions, will jerk the earth out of its present 
 position with so much spontaneity, and in such an 
 extremely forthwith manner, that many people will 
 be permanently strabismused and much bric-a-brac 
 will be for sale at a great sacrifice. This may or 
 may not be true. I have not been up in the arctic 
 regions to investigate its truth or falsity, though 
 there seems to be a growing sentiment throughout 
 the country in favor of my going. A great many 
 
52 
 
 THE WORLDS 8 
 
 people during the past year .have written me and 
 given me their consent. 
 
 If I could take about twenty good, picked men, 
 and go up there for the summer, instead of bring- 
 ing hack twenty picked men, I wouldn’t mind the 
 trip, and I feel that we really ought to have a larger 
 colony on ice in that region than we now have. 
 
 The earth is composed of land and water. Some 
 of the water has large chunks of ice in it. The 
 earth revolves around its own axle once in twenty- 
 four hours, though it seems to revolve faster than 
 that, and to wobble a good deal during the holidays. 
 Nothing tickles the earth more than to confuse -a 
 man when he is coming home late at night, and 
 then to rise up suddenly and hit him in the back 
 with a town lot. People who think there is no fun 
 or relaxation among the heavenly bodies certainly 
 have not studied their habits. Even the moon is 
 a humorist. 
 
 A friend of mine, who was returning late at night 
 from a regular meeting of the Society for the 
 Amelioration of the Hot Scotch, said that the 
 earth rose up suddenly in front of him, and hit him 
 with a right of way, and as he was about to rise up 
 again he was stunned by a terrific blow between 
 the shoulder blades Avith an old land grant that he 
 thought had lapsed years ago. When he staggered 
 to his feet he found that the moon, in order to add 
 
TiiK p:arth. 
 
 p- 53. 
 
(.? T'E 
 
 . ,r-r I ' • ^ 'C* 
 
 IV. 
 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 53 
 
 to his confusion, had gone down in front of him, 
 and risen again behind him, with her thumb on her 
 nose. 
 
 So I say, without fear of successful contradic- 
 tion, that if you do not think that planets and orbs 
 and one thing and another have fun on the quiet 
 you are grossly ignorant of their habits. 
 
 The earth is about half way between Mercury 
 and Saturn in the matter of density. Mercury is 
 of about the specific gravity of iron, while that of 
 Saturn corresponds with that of cork in the matter 
 of density and specific gravity. The earth, of 
 course, does not compare with Mercury in the 
 matter of solidity, yet it is amply firm for all prac- 
 tical purposes. A negro whojell out of the tower 
 of a twelve- story building while trying to clean the 
 upper window by drinking a quart of alcohol and 
 then breathing hard on the glass, says that he re- 
 gards the earth as perfectly solid, and safe to do 
 business on for years to come. He claims that 
 those who maintain that the earth’s crust is only 
 2,500 miles in thickness have not thoroughly tested 
 the matter by a system of practical experiments. 
 
 The poles of the earth are merely imaginary. I 
 hate to print this statement in a large paper in 
 such a way as to injure the reputation of great 
 writers on this subject who still cling to the theory 
 that the earth revolves upon large poles, and that 
 
64 
 
 THE WORLHS 
 
 the aurora borealis is but the reflection from a hot 
 box at the north pole, but I am here to tell the 
 truth, and if my readers think it disagreeable to 
 read the truth, what must be my anguish who have 
 to tell it? The mean diameter of the earth is 7,- 
 916 English statute miles, hut the actual diameter 
 from pole to pole is a still meaner diameter, being 
 7,899 miles, while the equatorial diameter is 7,925^ 
 miles. 
 
 The long and patient struggle of our earnest and 
 tireless geographers and savants in past years in 
 order to obtain these figures and have them exact, 
 few can fully realize. The long and thankless job 
 of measuring the diameter of the earth, no matter 
 what the weather might be, away from home and 
 friends, footsore and weary, still plodding on, fa- 
 tigued but determined to know the mean diameter 
 of the earth, even if it took a leg, measuring on for 
 thousands of weary miles, and getting farther and 
 farther away from home, and then forgetting, per- 
 haps, how many, thousand miles they had gone, and 
 being compelled to go hack and measure it over 
 again while their noses got red and their fingers 
 were benumbed. These, fellow-citizens, are a few 
 of the sacrifices that science has made on our be- 
 half in order that we may not grow up in ignorance. 
 These are a few of the blessed privileges which, 
 along with life, liberty, and the pursuit of happi- 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 55 
 
 ness, are ours — ours to anticipate, ours to partici- 
 pate, ours to precipitate. 
 
 ^ANIPED ITHB elOB. 
 
 New Boy — Say, boss, going to shut up yer store 
 now? 
 
 Hardware Dealer — Yes; right away. 
 
 New Boy — Do you shut up everything? 
 Hardware Dealer — Yes, everything. 
 
 New Boy — Say, boss, can I shut up the knives? 
 
 OJANJPBD mo ©LAY. 
 
 Base-Ball Manager — What position do you want 
 to play? 
 
 Applicant — Short-stop. 
 
 Base-Ball Manager — Have you ever had any ex- 
 perience in that position ? 
 
 Apphcant — Oh, yes; I seldom stop long with 
 any one club. 
 
 ROTHING SHOGgING IN IT. 
 
 Attorney- General Garland confesses that he is 
 not a success at poker. Henry Clay was more for- 
 tunate. He used to have card parties at the 
 Ashland homestead, and it is not on record that 
 the speculation was a had one. One day a young 
 
66 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 lady visitor from the north, to whom the sight of 
 the poker tables was rather an alarming one, said 
 to the wife of the statesman : 
 
 “Mrs. Clay, doesn’t it shock you to see your hus- 
 band playing cards so much in his own home?” 
 
 “Oh, no,” replied the benevolent old lady, inno- 
 cently, “he most always wins.” 
 
 — Washington Hatchet. 
 
 Something ^Ippi^opi^iate. 
 
 Litewait — Weally, doncher know, I cawn’t think 
 what soht of ovahcoat to purchase for spring, ye 
 know. What would ^mu suggest as most appwo- 
 pwiate. Miss Clarwa? 
 
 Miss C. — Why don’t you try a monkey-iacket? 
 — The Rambler. 
 
 DlI^T ©HEAP. 
 
 A small boy reading advertisements, comes to 
 the following: “For sale — Barber shop; dirt 
 cheaj).” Small hoy, with look of disgust on his 
 face — “Say, paw, don’t you think it’s cheeky in the 
 owner to want to charge anything for the dirt?” 
 This anecdote teaches that the public school sys- 
 tem is sadly deficient in the department which 
 should make pupils familiar with the use of elegant 
 commercial terms. 
 
SOMETHING APPROPRIATE. 
 
 P. 56. 
 
- , , , 
 
 D 
 
WIT AND WITS, 
 
 67 
 
 In SeliFi-Dbpbnsb. 
 
 A young man had been arrested for kissing a 
 pretty girl and she was on the witness-stand. 
 
 ^‘You say,” said the attorney for the defense, 
 “that the young man kissed you against your will?” 
 
 “Yes, he did, and he did it a dozen times, too.” 
 
 “Well, now, is it not true that you also kissed 
 him during the affray?” 
 
 Objected to; objection overruled. 
 
 “Now answer my question,” continued the 
 attorney. “Did you not kiss the defendant also?” 
 
 “Yes, I did,” replied the witness, indignantly, 
 “but it was in self-defense.” 
 
 Case dismissed. 
 
 fl gAP^iriAL Gxgusb. 
 
 Thomas Charlton hooked his chin over the 
 prisoner’s bar at the police court and regarded his 
 honor with a bland smile. 
 
 “Thomas, you are charged with being drunk,” 
 said the court. 
 
 “I can’t deny it,” said Thomas, grinning from 
 ear to ear. 
 
 “You don’t seem to be yeiy sorry.” 
 
 “I’m happy, yer honor,” said the prisoner, gig- 
 
 gling- 
 
 “What excuse have you for getting drunk?” 
 
58 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 “I’ve got seven of ’em, judge.” 
 
 “Seven excuses?” 
 
 “Yes, yer honor, seven. Now I don’t mind 
 telling ye all ’bout it. Ye see, I’ve got six boys, in 
 my family, and las’ night — it’s a girl, judge.” 
 Thomas got off. 
 
 Genei^ous ^oman. 
 
 In a recent suit before a Georgia court a female 
 fortune-teller testified that she knew for a fuU 
 month beforehand that cotton would go dovm two 
 or three points. 
 
 “I should think you would have invested on a 
 sure thing,” observed the opposing counsel. 
 
 “Oh, I had a sure thing enough,” she artlessly 
 replied. “I was being paid about $20 per day by a 
 ring to predict that wheat would soon make a ten- 
 point jump. I don’t want the whole earth.” 
 
 yoUNG liOVE^ (Display. 
 
 “I understand yotir engagement vdth Miss Faun- 
 tleroy is broken off’.” 
 
 “Yes, we had a spat the other evening at the 
 garden gate and parted for good.” 
 
 “Too bad; hut did you not throw her a parting 
 kiss?” 
 
 “0, yes; but she muffed it .” — Merchant Traveler, 
 
■ ■ 
 
 , r- 
 
the; price of raisins. p. 59 
 
WIT AND WITS, 
 
 59 
 
 eXGIiPEMENiIi IN HTHE (©HUI^GHES. 
 
 Horace — I see by the papers that there was a 
 “tie-np” in several churches yesterday. 
 
 Angelina — Oh, these horrid labor troubles, when 
 will they cease? By the way, though, how could 
 there be a “tie-up” in church? 
 
 Horace — Easy enough; the happy couples just 
 walked up to the chancel rails and the minister did 
 the business in fifteen minutes. 
 
 ©HE ei^IGE OP FJAISINS. 
 
 “How much is these raisins wuth?” asked a far- 
 mer as he dipped into the box for a sample. 
 
 ^‘Five cents,” said the grocer. 
 
 “Five cents for how many — a pound?” 
 
 “No, for those you’ve got in your hand.” 
 
 FjEGAI^DIiESS OP €XPENSE. 
 
 Mr. Parvenu (to dealer in tombstones) — Yes, sir, 
 , I want the very finest kind of a stone you’ve got. I 
 don’t mean to put no slouch of a stone over Mrs. 
 Parvenu. Now, that there one seems to have all 
 the trimmings. I’ll jest take that. 
 
 Dealer — But that was made for another party 
 and it has the name “Jones” on it. 
 
 Mr. P. — Oh, that don’t make no difference, 
 Mrs. Parvenu couldn’t read . — The Bamhler, 
 
60 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 Bai^adisb I^bgainbd. 
 
 SWEET LOVE LETTEES FOUND IN A BALE OF COTTON IN A 
 LEWISTON mLL. 
 
 The queerest postoffice w^e ever heard of was de- 
 veloped the other day in the card-room of a Lewis- 
 ton cotton-mill, where the air is full of bhnding 
 dust and shreds of the flying cotton and deafening 
 with the whirr of the shafting and the rattle of the 
 cards. The postmaster Avas one of the hands em- 
 ployed in the card-room of the Androscoggin mills. 
 The epistle was a sweet, sweeter, sweetest love 
 letter addressed to a girl Avay doAAUi in Alabama, 
 and Avas found sticking its AAffiite enA^elope out from 
 beneath the iron band of a bale of cotton. The 
 finding and the sequel have a touch of romance. 
 
 It happened six Aveeks ago. A big bale of cotton 
 had been rolled into the floor of the Androscoggin 
 picker-room, and one of the hands Avas getting it 
 ready for the first operation, AAdien he caught a 
 ghmpse of a piece of A\ffiite paper sticking out from 
 under the band about the cotton bale. It Avas a 
 letter addressed to a girl in the land of cotton. It 
 A\"as a modest looking letter, just as unassuming as 
 the modern fashionable epistle at present is aiming 
 to be. It Avas unsealed and had no stamp. It Av^as 
 quite crumpled and sort of dirty and begrimed. 
 Outside it didn’t show its real worth, so, in order 
 
WIT AND W1T8. 
 
 61 
 
 \ 
 
 to better appreciate it, one of the hands opened it 
 and read the inclosure. It was just what might 
 have been expected — a real ardent southern kind 
 of a letter, burning with the I’d-like-to-eat-you-up 
 kind of love, although, as a matter of fact, written 
 in December. Its writer was evidently an employe 
 on the train on which the bale of cotton with its 
 fellows was journeying to the seaboard. It called 
 his ducky-dear to account for certain alleged little 
 acts of coldness, but was in the main very compli- 
 mentary to her beauty, her common sense, the size 
 of her foot, and the style of her new winter bonnet. 
 
 It appointed the following Saturday evening for 
 a call and was confident that she would be glad to 
 see him. Everything was to be found in the letter 
 required in such an epistle. There is no need to 
 describe it. Our readers of a larger growth know 
 about these things by experience, others by intui- 
 tion. We may add that few sweeter things ever 
 reached the maturity of stamp and envelope than 
 this. 
 
 When the hands had discussed it they began to 
 appreciate that perhaps the card-room might still 
 be a postoffice of delivery, and so one man inclosed 
 it in a note, relating the manner of its discovery, 
 another with cleaner hands than the rest lapped 
 the dextrine on the envelope and slapped it down, 
 and another produced a stamp, and the letter was 
 
62 
 
 THE W0BLH8 
 
 dropped into the postofiS^e and forgotten. 
 
 A few days ago, however, came the sequel. A 
 neatly written letter was received in the Andro- 
 scroggin card-room from the “Alabamy” girl. She 
 thanked everybody sincerely for the care they had 
 taken of her letter, and she added: “If you ever 
 come our way drop in and see us. We will he 
 right glad to see you and will thank you in the 
 bargain.” 
 
 It is supposed that the absent-minded lover stuck 
 the letter into a cotton bale while about his train 
 work and couldn’t find it again, and so the letter 
 sailed the seas over into Maine, came miles by rail, 
 ascended into the region of dust in a card-room of 
 a Lewiston cotton-mill, and then after four months 
 of travel found its way back to the hands of the 
 maiden of its love. 
 
 SGINITILLiATIONS. 
 
 An unmixed evil — Whisky straight. 
 
 The oyster persistently refuses to respond to an 
 encore. 
 
 We trust the hand-organ man will insist on eight 
 hours as a full day’s work. 
 
 ' One industry remains to the poor Indian — that 
 of ticket-scalper to an immigrant train. 
 
 “Is that the rebel yell?” asked an Ohioan in 
 front of the Kimball house. 
 
I 
 
 t. 
 
 z 
 
 
 y 
 
 r 
 
 It 
 
 
WHEN THE SHINGLE IS HOT. 
 
 P. 63. 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 63 
 
 ‘‘No,” replied a courteous colonel, “it is only an 
 ice-cream cake man .” — Atlanta Constitution. 
 
 The fish have quieted down a little in the river, 
 and no longer crowd one another out on the banks 
 and frighten the children. Still good fishing, how- 
 ever — Estelline (D. T.) ^ell. 
 
 It is said that shingles may be made fire-proof, 
 but you cannot convince the small boy who has had 
 any experience that a shingle is not frequently 
 red hot. 
 
 Frederick Schwatka is lecturing on “Arctic 
 Tight Pinches.” That is a singular subject. It 
 isn’t the arctic that does the pinching with us: it’s 
 the confounded shoe. 
 
 A dude has sued a skating-rink owner for a lost 
 cane. Such an exhibition of courage leads to the 
 dark suspicion that the dude swallowed it and so 
 acquired a temporary spine. 
 
 A citizen of Buffalo inquires: “Why cannot we 
 have a subterranean hotel at Niagara; underneath 
 the American falls?” Probably because that would 
 be running the hotel business into the ground. 
 
 It is well to inculcate habits of economy in your 
 children by giving them a toy savings-bank and 
 teaching them to save up all their spare pennies. 
 Besides, you will find the bank convenient to bor- 
 
64 
 
 THE W0RLH8 
 
 row from at a low rate of interest when you get 
 hard up yourself. 
 
 Chicago proposes to celebrate the 400th anniver- 
 sary of the discovery of America by holding a 
 world’s fair. This is eminently proper. It is 
 pretty generally understood by this time that the 
 principal object of Columbus in discovering Amer- 
 ica was to fin'd a place large enough to hold Chica- 
 go . — Norristoivn Herald. 
 
 An editor returning home one morning about 8 
 o’clock, was met in the hall by his vigilant spouse. 
 “Alas,” she said, “that you have been detained by 
 another breakage of the press!” “Nay, not so,” he 
 rephed; “neither has the press broken down nor 
 have I been detained by getting out the weekly, 
 but it was a small game of 10-cent ante which hin- 
 dered me.” Hearing which, the soul of George 
 Washington turned over in his grave and muttered 
 a silent benediction. 
 
 A young gentleman home for the hohdays was 
 talking with an old laborer at work in his father’s 
 grounds, when the old man said; “Ay, ay, sir, ’tis 
 a fine thing is lamin’. There was no such when I 
 was a boy; I was a big fellow helpin’ the family, 
 when all at once school broke out.” 
 
 A certain Irish M. P. had been describing his 
 travels in the far west and the “virgin forest” there. 
 
mT AND WITS. 
 
 65 
 
 ‘^What is a virgin forest?” asked an auditor. 
 ‘‘Phwat is a vairgin forest is it ye whant to know? 
 A vairgin forest, sorr, is one pliwere the hand o’ 
 man has niver set fut, bedad!” 
 
 Extract from an oration delivered at the inaug- 
 uration of a statue by M. Duclaud, member for the 
 Charente: ‘^Yes, gentlemen, Eabelais was one of 
 the men whose form and face deserved to be pre- 
 served in molten marble for the admiration of 
 posterity.” 
 
 A hotel boaster, who was vaunting his knowledge 
 of the world before a crowd of new-comers, was 
 asked by a wag at his elbow if he had ever been in 
 Algebra. “Oh yes, certainly,” said he, “I passed 
 through there on top of a stage about a year ago.” 
 
 Teacher : “Define the word excavate.” Scholar : 
 “It means to hollow out.” Teacher: Construct a 
 sentence in which the word is properly used.” 
 Scholar: “The baby excavates when it gets hurt.” 
 
 When things come to such a pass in Idaho that 
 men are shot by an angry boarding-house-keeper 
 just because they refuse to eat his fishballs, we 
 don’t wonder that young Lochinvar came out of 
 the west. 
 
 “It was terribly oppressive at the theatre last 
 night,” said Brown; “it was so hot that the blood 
 all rushed to my head.” “WeU, it found plenty of 
 
 5 
 
6G 
 
 TIIK WORLD^S 
 
 room there, didn’t it?” replied the unsympathetic 
 Fogg. 
 
 Lightning recently struck a telegraph pole and 
 ran along a wire into the office at Coatsville, Ind., 
 when the clerk seated at the instrument, excitedly 
 telegraphed back. “Don’t send so fast!” 
 
 Said a miserable little Cincinnati boy, who had 
 just" received a scolding from his father; “Ma, 
 I wish I’d never been born.” “Why, Charley?” 
 ‘‘Well, I think I’d been a better boy.” 
 
 “You see my child, this turtle — one of the won- 
 ders of creation — he furnishes the best combs that 
 are made and yet he can not use one, as he hasn’t 
 a single 'hair to comb.” 
 
 ©aliped too (Dugh. 
 
 SAD EXPEEIENCE OF AN AMBITIOUS DRUMMEE ON A 
 COUNTRY ROAD. 
 
 An ambitious young commercial tourist living in 
 one of the cities on the middle Hudson became 
 acquainted with a young lady attending a well 
 known seminary, whose father is an influential 
 citizen of one of the Washington county towns and 
 is reputed to have a solid bank account, says the 
 Albany Argus. Having progressed in his acquaint- 
 ance with the young lady so far as to seek and 
 
THE REBEL YELL. 
 
 P. 62. 
 
VI 
 
 I 
 
 ; - ' ’r 
 
 , if >..i 1-— 
 
 / 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 67 
 
 receive an invitation to visit her at her home dur- 
 ing her school vacation, he essayed to risk the 
 danger that might attend his reception at the pa- 
 ternal domicile. Having engaged the fastest trot- 
 ters and the nattiest turnout of the village livery- 
 man our tourist set out. 
 
 The ride was about six miles, and after he had 
 journeyed about half that distance he overtook a 
 pedestrian and inquired if he was “on the right road 
 to Mr. Smith’s farmhouse?” Eeceiving an affirma- 
 tive reply, the drummer asked the farmer to ride. 
 The latter got in the buggy, and as soon as he was 
 seated the young man pulled out his flask and 
 asked his new-made friend to imbibe. It was de- 
 clined, and the proffered cigar elife'ited the response 
 that he neither drank liquor nor smoked nor 
 chewed tobacco. To this the sharp young man 
 rejoined by avowing his belief that there never was 
 a man hut what was addicted to some of the vices. 
 Meeting with no contradiction on this topic, he 
 inquired of the stranger if he knew Mr. Smith and 
 his standing in the community. 
 
 “Yes,” replied he, “I know him very well, and I 
 think he is quite fair with his townsmen.” 
 
 “He’s well hooked up,, ain’t he?” 
 
 “Well, he owns one of tlie best farms in the town, 
 and he j)rides himstif on his stock.” 
 
 “He has a daughter?” 
 
68 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 “Yes, three of them.” 
 
 “Well, I mean the one that is at school in ? 
 
 I have met her and am invited by her to call and 
 spend the evening.” 
 
 “Ah, is that so? She is an excellent girl.” 
 
 “Well, she is clear mashed on me, and I intend 
 to do my level best tohnarry her and get a share of 
 the old man’s money to set me up in business. 
 Don’t you think that a bright business idea?” 
 
 “Well, as I said, she is a good girl, and one that 
 loves her father dearly, and obeys him in every- 
 thing. You could not obtain her hand without the 
 father’s consent.” 
 
 “I’ll see about that. I’d give more to obtain 
 the daughter’s than the old man’s consent,” replied 
 the impetuous but undiscerning young fellow. 
 
 At this moment they were approaching a stately 
 farm house, and as they reached its front the far- 
 mer said: “I live here, and will get out, if you 
 please.” 
 
 The commercial man gently halted the trotters, 
 and, as the old gentleman reached the ground, he 
 said to him : “Now, how much farther is it to Mr. 
 Smith’s?” 
 
 “I am Mr. Smith, sir, ’’replied the farmer, sternly, 
 “and you can drive on, for I will not permit you to 
 step on my premises.” 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 69 
 
 ©WAIN ON BEEGHEI^. 
 
 MR. Beecher’s phenomenal experience in agricul- 
 tural PURSUITS RISING FROM AFFLUENCE 
 
 TO POVERTY. 
 
 The great preacher never sleeps with his clothes 
 on. Once, when remonstrated with upon the sing- 
 ularity of his conduct in this respect, and the 
 pernicious effect the example might possibly have 
 upon the younger members of his congregation, he 
 replied with the frank and open candor that has 
 always characterized him, that he would give 
 worlds to be able to rid himself of the custom — and 
 added that the anguish he had suffered in trying to 
 break himself of the habit had made him old before 
 he was 90. Mr. Beecher never wears his hat at 
 dinner. He does not consider it healthy. It does 
 not immediately break down one’s constitution, but 
 is slow and sure. He knows one case where a man 
 persisted in the habit, in spite of the tears and en- 
 treaties of his friends, until it was too late, and he 
 reaped the due reward of his rashness — for it 
 carried him off at last, at the age of 106. Had 
 that man listened to reason, he might have lived 
 to be a comfort to his parents and a solace to their 
 declining years. 
 
 Mr. Beecher never swears. In all his life a pro- 
 fane expression has never passed his lips. But if 
 
70 
 
 THE WORLD^S 
 
 he were to take it into his head to try it once, he 
 would make even that disgusting habit seem beau- 
 tiful — he w^ould handle it as it never was handled 
 before, and if there was a wholesome moral lesson 
 hidden away in it anywhere he would ferret it out 
 and use it with tremendous effect. Panophed with 
 his grand endowment — his judgment, his discrimi- 
 nating taste, his felicity of expression, his graceful 
 fancy — if Mr. Beecher had a mind to swear he 
 could throw into it an amount of poetry and pathos, 
 and splendid imagery and moving earnestness, and 
 restless energy, topped off and climaxed with a 
 gorgeous pyrotechnic conflagration and filigree and 
 fancy swearing that would astonish and delight the 
 hearer, and forever after quiver through his bewil- 
 dered memory an exquisite confusion of rainbows 
 and music, and thunder and lightning. A man of 
 high order of intellect and appreciation could sit 
 and listen to Mr. Beecher swear for a week without 
 getting tired. 
 
 Mr. Beecher is very regular in his habits. He 
 always goes to bed promptly between 9 and 3 
 o’clock, and never upon any account allows himself 
 to vary from this rule. He is just as particular 
 about getting up, which he does the next day, gen- 
 erally. He considers that to this discipline, and to 
 this alone, he is indebted for the rugged health he 
 has enjoyed ever since he adopted it. 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 71 
 
 Mr. Beecher does not go around and get adver- 
 tisements for The Plymouth Pulpit. If he does it, 
 it is without our knowledge or consent. If such a 
 report has been started, it is an absolute duty to 
 refute it in this article. However, no such report 
 has yet been heard of, and therefore it is not neces- 
 sary to do more than refute it in a purely general 
 way at this time. Mr. Beecher could augment the 
 hulk of the phamplet to which his sermons are 
 attached if he chose to go around and solicit such 
 a thing. He has no time for such recreation. He 
 has to preach, and he has to make dedication 
 speeches for all sorts of things, and he is obliged to 
 make a few remarks on nearly all distinguished 
 occasions, because very often other men are busy 
 and cannot come. And besides, he has to carry on 
 his farm. 
 
 Mr. Beecher’s farm consists of thirty- six acres, 
 and is carried on on strict scientific principles. He 
 never puts in any part of a crop without consult- 
 ing his book. He plows, and reaps, and digs, and 
 sows according to the best authorities — and the 
 authorities cost more than the other farming imple- 
 ments do. As soon as the library is complete the 
 farm will begin to be a profitable investment. But 
 book farming has its drawbacks. Upon one occa- 
 sion, where it seemed morally certain that the hay 
 onght to be cut, the hay book could not be found 
 
72 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 — and before it was found it was too late and the 
 hay was all spoiled. 
 
 Mr. Beecher raises some of the finest crops of 
 wheat in the country, but the unfavorable differ- 
 ence between the cost of producing it and its mar- 
 ket value after it is produced, has interfered 
 considerably with its success as a commercial 
 enterprise. His special weakness is hogs, however. 
 He considers hogs the best game a farm produces. 
 He buys the original pig for $1.50, and feeds him 
 $40 worth of corn, and them sells him for about 
 $9. This is the only crop he ever makes any 
 money on. He loses. ^pn the corn, but he makes 
 $7.50 on the hog. He does not mind this because 
 he never expects to make anything on corn, any- 
 way. And any way it turns out, he has the 
 excitement of raising the hog anyhow, whether he 
 gets the worth of him or not. His strawberries 
 would be a comfortable success if the robins would 
 eat turnips, but they won’t, and hence the diffi- 
 culty. 
 
 One of Mr. Beecher’s most harassing difficulties 
 in his farming operations comes of the close resem- 
 blance of different sorts of seeds and plants to each 
 other. Two years ago his far-sightedness warned 
 him that there was going to be a great scarcity of 
 water-melons, and therefore he put in a crop of 
 twenty- seven acres of that fruit. But when they 
 

 ( ? -r-’E 
 
MARK TWAIN ON BEECHER. 
 
 P- 73 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 73 
 
 came up they turned out to he pumpkins, and a 
 dead loss was the consequence. Sometimes a por- 
 tion of his crop goes into the ground the most 
 promising sweet potatoes, and comes up the infer- 
 nalest carrots — though I never have heard him 
 express it in just that way. When he bought his 
 farm he found one egg in every hen’s nest on the 
 place. He said that here was just the reason why 
 so many farmers failed — they scattered their forces 
 too much — concentration was the idea. So he 
 gathered those eggs together and put them all un- 
 der one experienced old hen. That hen roosted 
 over that contract night and day for eleven weeks, 
 under the anxious personal supervision of Mr. 
 Beecher himself, but she could not ‘‘phase” those 
 eggs. Why? Because they were those infamous 
 porcelain things which are used by ingenious and 
 fraudulent farmers as “nest eggs.” But perhaps 
 Mr. Beecher’s most disastrous experience was the 
 time he tried to raise an immense crop of dried 
 apples. He planted $1,500 worth, hut never a one 
 of them sprouted. He has never been able to un- 
 derstand, to this day, what was the matter with 
 those apples. 
 
 Mr. Beecher’s farm is not a triumph. It would 
 be easier on liini if lie worked it on shares with 
 some one; hut lie can not find anybody who is 
 willing to stand half the expense, and not many 
 
74 
 
 THE ^Y0RLD^8 
 
 that are able. Still, persistence in any case is 
 bound to succeed. He was a very inferior farmer 
 when be first began, but a prolonged and unflinch- 
 ing assualt upon bis agricultural difiiculties has bad 
 its effect at last, and .be is now fast rising from 
 affluence to poverty. 
 
 I shall not say anything about Mr. Beecher’s 
 sermons. They breathe the truest and purest spirit 
 of religion ; they are models of pulpit oratory, and 
 they are proofs that the subject which is the nearest 
 to the interests of mankind can be put to nobler 
 uses than the chloroforming of congregations. Mr. 
 Beecher has done more than any other man, per- 
 haps, to inspire religion with the' progressive spirit 
 of the nineteenth century and make it keep step 
 with the march of intellectual achievement and the 
 general growth of men’s charities and impulses. It 
 is such men as Beecher that persuade religious 
 communities to progress to something better than 
 witch-burning when the spirit of the time pro- 
 gresses from ox-wagons to stage-coaches, and by 
 and by to steamboats; and who persuade such 
 communities to progress beyond the indorsing of 
 slavery with their Bibles when the spirit of the 
 time progresses to the subordination of the steam- 
 boat to the railroad, and the discarding of pony- 
 expresses for the telegraph. He has done as much 
 as any man to keep the people from reading their 
 
WIT AND WITS, 
 
 75 
 
 Bibles by the interpretation of the eighteenth cen- 
 tury while they were living far along in the nine- 
 teenth. His name will live. His deeds will honor 
 his memory. He has set his mark upon his epoch, 
 and years hence, when the people turn over the 
 bales and bundles of this generation’s ideas, they 
 will find “H. W. B.” stenciled on a good many of 
 them. 
 
 ©HAT DI^BADPUL 
 
 “There is a sad state of affairs in Eussia,” ob- 
 served Mr. Snaggs last night. “There has been an 
 increase of 300 per cent, in the number of suicides 
 in the last ten years.” 
 
 “What is the cause?” asked Mrs. Snaggs. 
 
 “It is attributed largely to pessimism.” 
 
 “That dreadful drink. I wonder the people don’t 
 sign the pledge.” 
 
 ©Ei^HAPs Hot. 
 
 De Baggs — Strange young woman, that friend 
 of yours. Very strong-minded, is she not? 
 
 Litewaite — Extremely so. But she is going to 
 be married. 
 
 “You surprise me! Who is the unfortunate 
 man?” 
 
 “Ponsonby of our set.” 
 
 “Indeed! Does — does he know it?” 
 
THE WORLb^S 
 
 
 Gbnbi^ous SisTBr^. 
 
 “I think,” said Christina to Florence, 
 
 (Floy was seven and Chrissie just five,) 
 “That, really and truly, I’m one of 
 The best httle sisters ahve.” 
 
 “And why do you think so?” asked Florence; 
 • “Because,” said the curly-haired elf, 
 
 “I give you, and give you contin’ly. 
 
 All the things that I don’t want myself;” 
 
 • 06HOBS OP THB fflOr^GAN SALB. 
 
 “Isn’t that a peachlow vase?” 
 
 “Yes.” 
 
 “Buy it at the Morgan sale?” 
 
 “No; got it at Macy’s bargain counter for forty- 
 nine cents.” 
 
 “That is a new picture, is it not. Miss Bulb on?” 
 “Yes, oh, yes, indeed. It came from the Morgan 
 sale.” 
 
 “Who is the artist?” 
 
 “WeU, weU, I quite forget his name.” 
 
 “What subject does it represent?” 
 
 “I’m sure I don’t know, but it cost pa $10,000. 
 Isn’t it a masterpiece?” 
 
 “It is indeed.” 
 
“IT COST PA $10,000. 
 
 P. 76 . 
 
( - " 
 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 
 ^Ohaip’s in a Hams?. 
 
 Kaids upon Chinese opium dens last night 
 brought to the front Messrs. Ah Good and Long 
 Sin, who confined their claims to the friendship of 
 the pig-eyed smokers by bailing them out of jail. 
 It is not surprising that Sin should be found in a 
 den, but this is one of the first instances of the dis- 
 covery of Good in a celestial joint. 
 
 Spaf;ing Y}is Feelings. 
 
 First Boston Novelist— Don’t you become greatly 
 attached to some of your most favorite characters, 
 and sympathize with them ? 
 
 Second Boston Novehst — Oh, yes, but whenever 
 my sympathies become overwrought, I always kiU 
 the poor characters and put myself out of misery. 
 — Merchant Traveler. 
 
 ©HE-eUPPY WAS r)UNGI^Y. 
 
 A lady entered^ a Broadway car holding in her 
 arms a rather bony terrier. She sat down by the 
 side of a good natured-looking Irishman, toward 
 whom the dog began to struggle. The man edged 
 away as far as he could, when the lady to assure 
 him said sweetly: 
 
78 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 “Don’t be afraid, sir. He’s very gentle; he’ll 
 not ^hurt you.” • - 
 
 “I know it, ma’am, shure I know it,” replied he; 
 “the raison I moved, ma’am, was because I thought 
 he might hurt -a sandwich which I have in me 
 pocket.” 
 
 The other passengers laughed, but the lady 
 poutingly seemed to feel that the prominent rites 
 of her pet had been satirized. 
 
 ©I^UB I^BWAF^DBD. 
 
 STYLE OF SCHOOL LITEKATUKE KNOWN THIKTY YEAES AGO. 
 
 ONE OF BILL NYE’s SELECTIONS, WEITTEN BY HIMSELF . 
 
 AEEANGED WITH SPECIAL EEFEEENCE TO THE MAT TEE 
 OF CHOICE, DELICATE AND DIFFICULT WOEDS. 
 
 / " One day as George Oswald was going to his tasks, 
 and while passing through the wood, he spied a tall 
 man approaching in an opposite direction along the 
 highway. 
 
 ‘^Ah,” thought George, in a low, mellow tone of 
 voice, ‘^whom have we here?” ■ 
 
 ‘‘Good morning, my fine fellow,” exclaimed the 
 stranger, pleasantly. “Do you reside in this local- 
 ity?” 
 
 ..“Indeed I do,” retorted George, cheerily, drop- 
 ping his cap. “In yonder cottage, near the glen, 
 
THE PUPPY WAS HUNGRY. 
 
 P. 77. 
 
'>te 
 
 15 . «• 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 79 
 
 my widowed mother and her thirteen children dwell 
 with me.” 
 
 “And how did your papa die?” asked the man, 
 as he thoughtfully stood on the other foot awhile. 
 
 “Alas sir,” said George, as a large hot tear stole 
 down his pale cheek and fell with a loud report on 
 the warty surface of his bare foot “he was lost at 
 sea in a bitter gale. The good ship foundered two 
 years ago last Christmastide, and father was foun- 
 dered at the same time. No one knew of the loss 
 of the ship and that the crew was drowned until the 
 next spring, and it was then too late.” 
 
 “And what is your age, my fine fellow?” quoth 
 the stranger. 
 
 “If I live until next October,” said the boy, in a 
 declamatory tone of voice suitable for a Second 
 Keader, “I will he 7 years of age.” 
 
 A LAKOE FAMILY OF CHILDEEN. 
 
 “And who provides for your mother and her large 
 family of children?” queried the man. 
 
 “Indeed, I do, sir,” replied George, in a shrill 
 tone. “I toil, oh, so hard, sir, for we are very, 
 very poor, and since my elder sister, Ann, was 
 married and brought her husband home to live with 
 IS I have to toil more assidously than heretofore.” 
 
 “And by what means do you obtain a liveli- 
 hood?” exclaimed the man, in slowly measured 
 and grammatical words. 
 
80 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 “By digging wells, kind sir,” replied George, 
 picking up a tired ant as lie spoke and stroking it 
 on the hack. “I have a good education, and so I 
 am enabled to dig wells as well as a man. I do this 
 daytimes and take in washing at night. In this 
 way I am enabled to maintain our family in a pre- 
 carious manner; hut, oh, sir, should my other sisters 
 marry, I fear that some of my brothers-in-law would 
 have to suffer.” 
 
 “You are indeed a brave lad,” exclaimed the 
 stranger, as he rejiressed a smile. “And do you 
 not at times become very weary and wish for other 
 ways of passing your time?” 
 
 “Indeed I do sir,” said the lad. “I would fain 
 run and romj) and he gay hke other boys, but I 
 must engage in constant manual exercise, or' we 
 will have no bread to eat and I have not seen a pie 
 since papa perished in the moist and moaning sea.” 
 
 SAVED FROM A HURRIED GRAVE. 
 
 “And what if I were to tell you that your papa 
 did not perish at sea, but was saved from a hurried 
 grave?” asked the stranger in pleasing tones. 
 
 “Ah, sir,” exclaimed George, in a genteel man- 
 ner, again doffing his cap. “I’m too pohte to tell 
 you what I would say, and beside, sir, you are 
 much larger than I am.” 
 
 “But my brave lad,” said the man in low musi- 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 81 
 
 cal tones, you not know me, Georgie. Oh, 
 George!” 
 
 “I must say,” replied George, ‘^that you have 
 the advantage of me. Whilst I may have met you 
 before, I can not at this moment place you, sir.” 
 
 ‘‘My son! oh, my son!” murmured the man, at 
 the same time taking a large strawberry mark out 
 of the valise and showing it to the lad. “Do you 
 not recognize your parent on your father’s side? 
 When our good ship went to the bottom, all per- 
 ished save me. I swam several miles through the 
 billows, and at last, utterly exhausted, gave up all 
 hope of life. Suddenly a bright idea came to me 
 and I walked out of the sea and rested myself. 
 
 “And now my brave boy,” exclaimed the man 
 with great glee, “see what I have brought for you.” 
 It was but the work of a moment to unclasp from 
 a shawl strap, which he held in his hand, and pre- 
 sent to George’s astonished gaze, a large 40 cent 
 watermelon, which he had brought with him from 
 the Orient. 
 
 “Ah,” said George, “this is indeed a glad sur- 
 prise. Albeit, how can I ever repay you ?” — Bill 
 Nye in Boston Globe. 
 
 , in ©LAIMA’S I?F^ESEN6E. 
 
 “Do you like winter, Mr. Litewaite?” 
 
 6 
 
82 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 “Not very much, Freddie.” 
 
 “Then why do you always go buggy-riding on a 
 cold day?” 
 
 “I don’t. What makes you think so?” 
 
 “Why, sister Clara said that it would he a cold 
 day when you offered to take any girl buggy- 
 riding.” 
 
 Statistics. 
 
 They were talking about expenses and how some 
 men got rich. 
 
 Said one: “My butcher and baker have made 
 money enough out of me to build themselves 
 splendid residences.” 
 
 ‘‘And,” responded the other, “the barkeepers I 
 patronized have built whole blocks out of what I 
 owe them .” — Texas Siftings. 
 
 pN GNTBI^PI^ISING y^OUTH. 
 
 This is not the only enterprising country in the 
 world. An English advertisements reads as fol- 
 lows : “A young man, sober and rehahle, who has a 
 wooden leg and cork arm, is wilhng, for a moderate 
 salary, to allow his false hmhs to be nriaimed by 
 wild beasts in any reputable menagerie, as an ad- 
 vertisement. No objection to traveling.” 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 83 
 
 FJiddlb. 
 
 I never was but always am to be ; 
 
 None ever saw me, you may never see; 
 
 And yet I am the confidence of all 
 Who hve and breathe on this terrestrial ball. 
 The answer is — To-morrow. 
 
 Welsh 5aw-Bi^eai(ei^s. 
 
 Welsh names are proverbially of the crack-jaw 
 tendency ; but perhaps the palm may be given to 
 the following, which casually occurred in a conver- 
 sation between a Welsh maiden and an English 
 visitor in a viUiage at the foot of Snowden. The 
 visitor inquired : 
 
 What is the name of your little cottage, my 
 dear? 
 
 Welsh girl — Lletyllifyllyfuwy, sir. 
 
 E. V. — Oh. And are your parents living? 
 
 W. G. — Yes, sir ; but my father works at 
 Dhwarel Caebraichycafn. 
 
 E. Y. — Well, well. Any brothers? 
 
 W. G. — Yes; three, sir. One at Ehosilanerch- 
 rugog, one at Llanenddwyncwmllanddwywe, and 
 one lives between Penmaenmawr and Llanfair- 
 fochan. 
 
 E. V. — It’s growing worse, I see. How many 
 sisters. 
 
u 
 
 THE WORLHS 
 
 W. G. — Only two, sir. One is with my aunt at 
 Llanfairmathafarneithaf. 
 
 E. Y. — My word, what a name ! And the other? 
 W. G. — Oh, she is in service, sir, at Llahfair- 
 pwUgw^mgyllgogerychwyrndrobwllgertrobwillandy- 
 siliogogogoch. 
 
 This agreeable name signifies: “Llanfair,” St. 
 Mary near; ‘Twll Gwyngyll,” White Hazel Pond; 
 “Goger,” near; “Y Chwyra Drobwll,” near the 
 Whirl Pool; “Dysilio,” Saint; “Ogo,” cavern; “Go- 
 go Goch,” ancient hermit. 
 
 IJT WAS Only Ri^bddy. 
 
 “Good gracious, Lil! There goes one of the 
 funny.clowns we saw at the circus out in the street 
 in his ring clothes.” 
 
 “You silly girl ! Any one could tell you came 
 from the country. That is little Freddy Fahnstock 
 in his new spring suit.” 
 
 rpo Give Goloi^ to It. 
 
 Dog-Fancier — Well, mum, have you come to 
 buy another pup? 
 
 Miss Plantagenet — No, sir, not exactly. Mamma 
 wished to know if you would exchange this dog for 
 a black-and-white one. He is just as good as new, 
 
r p - 
 
BEGORRA ! YIS, TACHE THE b’y TO SPAKE AIRISH. 
 
 P. 86. 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 85 
 
 and we are going into half-mourning next week.— 
 The Bamhler. 
 
 ©HIS Style Only i ©bnt. 
 
 It would be a cold day for Ireland if she should 
 lose her Ulster. 
 
 Johnny says he is his mother’s canoe, and she 
 is always able to paddle it. 
 
 A Connecticut man was divorced one day and 
 married the next. The greater the danger, the 
 greater the fascination it has for some men. 
 
 ‘T can’t sing,” said the young lady when invited 
 to warble, but she complied upon being further 
 pressed. When she had finished, Fogg thanked 
 her and added, soto voce: ‘T’ll never doubt any- 
 body’s word again.” 
 
 A pretty New York female thief disguised her- 
 self as a man, and the detectives were unable to 
 find her because she had schooled herself to pass 
 a millinery store without stopping to peep in the 
 window. 
 
 ©LASSIGAL (SOUI^SE. 
 
 Private Tutor (to Mr. Coshennigen, a Harlem 
 ^capitalist) — Would you like your son to pursue a 
 classical course, sir? 
 
86 
 
 TllK WORLD^S 
 
 Mr. Coshennigen — Phat’s that? 
 
 Private Tutor — It’s a study of the dead lan- 
 guages. 
 
 Mr. Coshennigen — Begorra! yis, tache the b’y to 
 spake airish. 
 
 IOHILiE ©HEINE’S BlPE ©HEINE’S l)OPE. 
 
 Patient — I shall leave my family in your care, 
 Hawkins, and shall trust you to see that they do 
 not want. 
 
 Friend — All right, old fellow. I’ll see to ’em. 
 Your wife, Marie, and I have been talking over our 
 happy future for some time. Sorry you won’t be 
 here to the wedding, old fellow. 
 
 Patient (with a feeling that he may still recover) 
 — Ah, well; we’ll hope for the best. 
 
 ©HAI^GING POr? eXTI^AS. 
 
 “Shave?” 
 
 “Yes,” and the customer drops into a chair. The 
 operation was performed without chloroform. 
 
 “How much?” 
 
 “Fifteen cents.” 
 
 “But I thought this was a 10-cent shop?” 
 
 “It is, for a plain shave, but I happened to cut a 
 gash in your chin and used alum on it. Five cents 
 extra for alum.” 
 
fc 
 
 WHILE there’s life THERE’S HOPE. 
 
 p. 86. 
 
4 -' 
 
 ' / 
 
 L*'^RA'^Y 
 c" : i 
 
 v.r .:il: 
 
 •''•9 
 
 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 87 
 
 ©IF^BD OF FjAIIil^OADING. 
 
 A DAEKEY WHO CAME NEAE BEING A CONDUCTOE THEOUGH 
 THE STEIKE. 
 
 OPIE P. EEID. 
 
 V” ■- ■ 
 
 Old Brockly is disgusted. Having spent the 
 most of his life on a plantation, but having grown 
 tired of a life so slow and uneventful, he came to 
 town several days ago and declared his intention of 
 engaging in some kind of active business. 
 
 ^‘Brockly, have you found work yet?” asked the 
 secretary of state, upon meeting the old man. 
 
 “Doan talk ter me. Mars’ Lias. All I wants now 
 is ter git outen dis blamed town, fur I’se sick o’ de 
 place.” 
 
 “Haven’t the people treated you with courtesy?” 
 
 “Da mout o’ treated me wid courtesy, sah, but 
 da hit me wid er brick, an’ chunked me, and 
 punched me wid er rail, an’ cussed me an’ hurt 
 mer feelin’s.” 
 
 “How did it happen?” 
 
 “Wall, sah. I’ll tell yer. Shortly arter I got 
 heah, er white man come ter me an’ said dat he 
 wanted me ter he’p run er freight train. Said dat 
 nearly all his men had dun went er fishin’ an’ wouldn’ 
 be back fur several days. Tole me dat ef I would 
 come on an’ he’p load freight dat he would put me 
 
88 
 
 THE WORLHS 
 
 in charge o’er train in a few days. . I thought he 
 was de fines’ man I eber seed, an’ I didn’ see why 
 he kep’ on er mimin’ arter me, when dar wuz so 
 many idle niggers in de town, but den I thought 
 dat he was sharp ernuff ter see all my good p’ints, 
 so I says, says I : 
 
 ‘Gwine ter pay me well, is yer?’ 
 
 ‘Oh, yas, gin yer good pay.’ 
 
 “ ‘An er study job arter de uder fellers comes 
 back frum er fishin’?’ 
 
 “ ‘Oh, yas, pay yer well all de time. I likes yer 
 looks, ole man, an’ I thinks dat arter while you’ll 
 make a fust-rate conductor o’er passenger train.’ 
 
 “ ‘Dar ain’t no trouble on yer road, is dar?” 
 
 “He laugli an’ swore dat his road neber had no 
 trouble. Said dat he wanted me ’ca’se he knowd 
 I wuz er smart man. Yer doan know how good it 
 did make me feel, an’, thinks I, ‘farewell ter de 
 cotton feel, fur I’se gwine ter wuck in de shade 
 frum dis time on. Let de young niggers han’le de 
 mules, fur I’se gwine ter be er big man o’er rail- 
 road, an’ make dem young niggers take off dar hats 
 ter me when I goes down in de country on er visit.’ 
 Wall, I went down ter de depot wid de white man. 
 I seed er lot er white men an’ niggers standin’ 
 roun’, an’ I wondered why da wan’t at work makin’ 
 money, but when I axed de white man he said da 
 wuz rich jokers dat had made money in de nigger 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 89 
 
 minstrel business; because dat da wouldn’ work, 
 but dat da made fun o’ eberybody what did. He 
 tole me ter role some bar ’Is o’ flour whut wus on 
 de platfo’m an’ put ’em on er freight kyar. ^Go 
 er head,’ says he, ‘an’ yer’ll be er conductor de fust 
 thing yer know.’ I went ter work, an’ hadn’t mor’n 
 put one bar’l on, fo’ er nigger come up ter me an’ 
 says, says he : 
 
 “Go on erway frum he ah an’ let dat st^ff er- 
 lone.” 
 
 “ ‘G’way yerse’f,’ says I, ‘an’ let me erlone. I’se 
 gwine ter put dis stuff on de kyar.’ He went er- 
 way, but putty soon heah he come ergin, wid er 
 whole passul o’ de rich minstrels wid him. Da tole 
 me dat ef I didn’ go erway da’d make me feel sorry, 
 but I laughed at ’em an’ snatched holt o’er bar’l. 
 Jes ’bout dat time, bif, er brick tuck me in de head. 
 I fell like er steer, an’ de fust thing I knowed some 
 feller wuz er pun chin’ me wid er rail. Er nudder 
 feller tuck up er piecer plank, an’ I thought dat he 
 wuz gwinh ter w’ar me bodaciously out. Da kep’ 
 er axin’ me ef I’d quit work, an’ ez soon ez I could 
 talk I tole ’em dat nuthin would gin me mo’ ’joy- 
 ment. When I got up I looked roun’ fur de white 
 man whut had sot me ter work, but he wa’n’t no- 
 whar ter be found. Putty soon I I’arned dat de 
 whole fo’ce o’ de road wuz on er strike. Dis made 
 me open one o’ mer eyes — I couldn’t open de udder 
 
90 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 one — an’ I geddered np mer ole hat an’ got erway 
 frum dat place. Oh, yes, da treated me wid er 
 whole lot o’ courtesy, but I doan want no mo’.” 
 
 “Going back to the plantation, I suppose?” 
 
 “Yes, sail, ef de Lawd ’ul let me. I'se mighty 
 tired uv bein’ a railroad man. De hiznez is er 
 little too libelyfur er man o’ my age. When I wuz 
 er young man I didn’ mine being chunked erhttle, 
 but now I doan hke it. Look at dis knot on mer 
 head. Big ez er do’ knob, ain’t it. Yas, I fin’s 
 cotton safter den er brickbat. Now lemme hab er 
 quarter an’ I’se done wid yer. Thankee, sah. 
 Good day .” — Arkansaw Traveler, 
 
 “SOI^r^OWS OP I^BVIYBD. 
 
 He — The hours which I have in your presence 
 lived have belonged to the happiest of my life. I 
 depart with nameless woe, and will you never for- 
 get. 
 
 She — Noble friend, long have I struggled, and 
 would gladly have spared you the worst, but 
 I dare not. But I must you let go without conso- 
 lation and without hope. Forgive me that from 
 you until to-da}^ concealed have I what I should 
 have revealed long since already. I — alas — I am 
 married. 
 
 He — So am I . — Fliegende Blaetter. 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 91 
 
 fflUSIGAL OBSBI^YAIFIONS. 
 
 AETEMAS WAKD. 
 
 % 
 
 My orchestra is small, but I am sure it is very 
 good, so far as it goes. I give my pianist ten 
 pounds a night and his washing. 
 
 I like music. I can’t sing. As a singist, I am 
 not a success. I am saddest when I sing; so are 
 those who hear me ; they are sadder even than I 
 am. The other night, some silveij voiced young 
 man came under my window, and sang, “Come 
 where my love lies dreaming.” I didn’t go; I 
 didn’t think it would be correct. 
 
 Isaac’s ©astb poi^ “©objih^y.” 
 
 MKS. PARTINGTON. 
 
 “Does Isaac manifest any taste for poetry, Mrs. 
 Partington?” asked the schoolmaster’s wife while 
 conversing on the merits of the youthful Parting- 
 ton. 
 
 The old lady was basting a chicken which her 
 friends had sent her from the country. 
 
 “Oh, yes!” said the old lady, smiling; “he is 
 very partially fond of poultry, and it always seems 
 as if he can’t get enough of it.” 
 
92 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 The old spit turned by the fire-place in response 
 to her answer, while the basting was going on. 
 
 ‘T mean,” said the lady, “does he show any of 
 the divine affiatus?” 
 
 The old lady thought a moment. 
 
 “As for the divine flatness, I don’t know about 
 it. He’s had all the complaints of children; and, 
 when he was a baby, he fell, and broke the cart- 
 ridge of his nose; hut’ll hardly think he’s had this 
 that you speak «of.” 
 
 The roasting chicken hissed and spluttered, and 
 Mrs. Partington hasted it again. 
 
 ©HE BiiTEI^ BI^JPEN. 
 
 A certain violin maker was so skillful that he 
 could perfectly imitate an old violin. A viohnist, 
 more eminent than honest, brought him a fine 
 Cremona and said, with a wink: “I w^ant you to 
 make an exact copy of this Amati.” 
 
 The maker knew who owned the instrument, and 
 promised to have the duplicate ready in two 
 months. At that time the violinist returned, paid 
 the price, and received the two violins. When he 
 arrived home and examined them, he found them 
 both counterfeits. Do you suppose violence was 
 done to his feelings by the clever imitator having 
 kept the true Amati for himself? 
 

 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 93 
 
 UlGJUIM OF OVEf^WOF^I^. 
 
 “Patrick,” called a south side lady, ‘‘have you 
 watered the flowers in the conservatory lately?” 
 
 “Not this wake, mum.” 
 
 “Mercy on me! What do you mean hy such 
 negligence?” 
 
 “Sure, mum, I’ve been busy every minute of the 
 time. I couldn’t find a second to spare for carryin’ 
 wather. The conservatory will he the death of me 
 yet, mum.’- 
 
 “Why, what has kept you so busy, I should hke 
 to know?” 
 
 “Pickin’ off the dead leaves, mum.” 
 
 Baseball ©frizes. * 
 
 For losing an ear, appointment as usher in the 
 grand stand. 
 
 A broken finger joint, lay off until it is well. 
 
 Scraping skin from elbow in stealing abase, prom- 
 ise of an increase in salary; both elbows, two 
 promises. 
 
 Getting second on a long slide (basement of 
 pants must remain intact), autographs of managers. 
 
 For having wire from mask driven into the skull, 
 loud applause from directors ; for getting killed, set 
 of resolutions, without frame, to relatives. 
 
94r 
 
 THE WO BID'S 
 
 For twisting the ankle in trying to make an 
 impossible play, a monkey wrench ; it will be found 
 a useful implement in such cases. 
 
 Bruising the shins, the right to rub them. 
 
 For losing the sight of the eyes in trying to 
 catch a fly in the face of the sun, released, with 
 back pay. 
 
 For having spike in an opponent’s shoe driven 
 through the instep, two day’s vacation. 
 
 Having teeth knocked out and continuing play, 
 the privilege of being called “tough.” 
 
 For killing a scorer, a $1,000 United States 
 bond. 
 
 For kicking against the umpire’s decisions, when 
 he is known to be ^rght, two shoes from a mule ; 
 this is an emblematic trophy. <» 
 
 The management, in offering the above prizes, 
 does it for the purpose of encouraging the players 
 to put forth their best endeavors, as by doing so 
 the games will be more entertaining ; and with the 
 hope that the dividends will be larger than they 
 otherwise would be. 
 
 Heeded ©range. 
 
 “It’s aU very well for you rich men to talk about 
 law and order,” said a young enthusiast to a 
 Chicago millionaire, “but the more I study the 
 

 u 
 
 fr 
 
 "E 
 
 
 
“I’d give my clothes for his teeth.” 
 
 P- 95- 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 95 
 
 more I am convinced that the present distribution 
 of wealth is entirely wrong.” 
 
 ‘‘What do you study?” asked the millionaire, who 
 began life without a cent and is now the owner of 
 one of the greatest manufacturing establishments 
 in the west. 
 
 “I study political economy, of course.” 
 
 “I would advise you, my son, to adopt a portion 
 of my old curriculum. Perhaps you would succeed 
 better.” 
 
 “Why, what did you study?” 
 
 “Domestic economy.” 
 
 ©HE Rational Game. 
 
 Wife — Do you know why you prefer a game of 
 base-ball to the theatre ? 
 
 Husband (just from the game) — Shertainly, m’ 
 dear (hie). It’s more exciting. 
 
 Wife — Exactly. You can go out nine times be- 
 tween the acts. 
 
 Y}E IOANIPED the ©EEIPH. 
 
 “Ma,” complained Bobby, “Tommy Tuff can 
 whistle through his teeth so you can hear him a 
 mile.” 
 
 “Yes, Bobby,” said his mother, encouragingly, 
 “but Tommy’s teeth are badly broken and decayed, 
 
96 
 
 THE WORLDS S 
 
 which is the reason he can whistle through them. 
 Besides, Bobby, Tommy hasn't any nice new 
 suit of clothes like you." 
 
 ‘T don’t care," responded Bobby doggedly, “I’d 
 give him my suit of clothes for his teeth any day.’' 
 
 BiLiIi r>YE ON THE ©OV: INDOSYI^Y. 
 
 A COWBOY COLLEGE NEEDED TO EDUCATE YOUNG MEN TO 
 THIS PROFESSION. 
 
 Xo one can go through the wide territory of 
 Montana to-day Muthout being strongly impressed 
 with the wonderful growth of the great cattle grow- 
 ing and grazing industry of that territory. And 
 yet Montana is but the northern extremity of the 
 great grazing belt which hes at the foot of the 
 Rocky Mountains, extending Rom the British 
 possessions on the north to the Mexican border on 
 the south, extending eastward, too, as far as the 
 arable lands of Dakota, Nebraska and Kansas. 
 
 Montana, at this season of the year, is the para- 
 dise of the sleek, high-headed, 2-year-old Texan 
 steer, with his tail over the dashboard, as well as 
 the stock yearhng, born on the range, beneath the 
 glorious mountain sky and under the auspices of 
 roundup Xo. 21. 
 
 I do not say this to adverfise the stock growing 
 business, because it is aKeady adverfised too much. 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 97 
 
 anyway. So many millionaires have been made 
 with “free grass” and the early-rising, automatic 
 branding iron that every man in the United States 
 who has a cow that can stand the journey seems to 
 be about to take her west and embark in business 
 as a cattle king. 
 
 But let me warn the amateur cow man that in 
 the great grazing regions it takes a good many 
 acres of thin grass to maintain the adult steer in 
 affluence for twelve months, and the great pastures 
 at the base of the mountains are being pretty well 
 tested. Moreover, I believe that these great con- 
 ventions of cattlemen, where free grass and easily 
 acquired fortunes are naturally advertised, will tend 
 to overstock the ranges at last and founder the 
 goose that now lays the golden egg. This, of 
 course, is really none of my business, but if I didn’t 
 now and then refer to matters that do not concern 
 me I would be regarded as reticent. 
 
 My intention, however, in approaching the great 
 cow industry, which, by the way, is anything but 
 an industry, being in fact more like the seductive 
 manner whereby a promissory note acquires 2 per 
 cent, per month without even stopping to spit on 
 its hands, was to refer incidentally to the proposi- 
 tion of an English friend of mine. This friend, 
 seeing at once the great magnitude of the cow in- 
 
 7 
 
98 
 
 THE VCOELD^S 
 
 diistry and the necessity for more and more cow- 
 boys, has suggested the idea of establishing a 
 cowboys’ college, or training school, for self-made 
 young men who desire to become accomphshed. 
 The average Englishman will most always think of 
 something that nobody else would naturally think 
 of. Xow, our cattleman would have gone on for 
 years with his great steer emporium without think- 
 ing of establisliing an institution where a poor boy 
 might go and learn to rope a d-^^ear-old in such a 
 way as to throw him on his stomach with a sicken- 
 ing thud. 
 
 The young Maverick savant could take a 
 kindergarten course in the study of cow brands. 
 Here a wide field opens up to the scholar. The 
 adult steer in the great realm of beef is now 
 a walking Chinese wash bill, a Hindoo poem in the 
 original junk shop alphabet, a four-legged Greek in- 
 scription, punctuated with jim-jams, a stenograph- 
 er’s notes of a riot, a bird’s-e'ye view of a prematui’e 
 explosion in a hardware store. 
 
 The cowboy who can at once grapple with the 
 great problem of where to put the steer with ‘‘B 
 bar B” on left shoulder, “Key circle G” on left 
 side, “Heart D Heart” on right hip, left ear crop, 
 wattle te wattle, and seven hands round with “Dash 
 B Dash” on right shoulder “vented,” wattle on 
 dew lap vented, and “P. D. Q.,” “C. 0. D.,” and 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 99 
 
 G.” vented on right side, keeping track of trans- 
 -fers, range and postoffice of last owner, has certain- 
 ly got a future, which lies mostly ahead of him. 
 
 But now that the idea has been turned loose, I 
 shall look forward to the time when wealthly men 
 who have been in the habit of dying and leaving 
 their money to other institutions, will meet with a 
 change of heart, and begin to endow the cowboys’ 
 college, and the Maverick hotbed of broncho 
 sciences. 
 
 We live in an age of rapid advancement in all 
 branches of learning, and people who do not rise 
 early in the morning will not retain their position 
 in the procession. I look forward with confidence 
 to the day when no cowboy will undertake to ride 
 the range without a diploma. Educated labor is 
 what we need. Cowboys who can tell you in scien- 
 tific terms why it is always the biggest steer that 
 eats “pigeon weed” in the spring and why he 
 should swell up and bust on a rising Chicago mar- 
 ket. 
 
 I hope that the day is not far distant when in the 
 holster of the cowboy we will find the Iliad instead 
 of the killiad, the unabridged dictionary instead of 
 Mr. Eemington’s great work on homicide. As it 
 is now on the ranges you might ride till your 
 Mexican saddle ached before you would find a cow- 
 boy who carries a dictionary with him. For that 
 
100 
 
 THE WORLHS 
 
 reason the language used on the general round-up 
 is at times grammatically incorrect, and many of, 
 our leading cowboys spell “cavvy-yard” with a “k.” 
 
 A college for riding, roping, branding, cutting 
 out, corralling, loading and unloading, and handling 
 cattle generally, would be a great boon to our 
 young men, who are at present groping in dark and 
 pitiable ignorance of the habits of the untutored 
 cow. Let the young man first learn how to sit up 
 three nights in succession, through a had March 
 snow storm and “hold” a herd of restless cattle. 
 Let him then ride through the hot sun and alkali 
 dust a week or two, subsisting on a chunk of dis- 
 agreeable side pork just large enough to bait a trap. 
 Then let his horse fall on him and injure his con- 
 stitution and preamble. All these things would 
 give the cow student an idea of how to ride the 
 range. The amateur who has- never tried to ride a 
 skittish and sulky range has still a great deal to 
 learn. 
 
 Perhaps I have said too much on this subject, but 
 when I get thoroughly awakened on this great 
 porterhouse steak problem I am apt to carry the 
 matter too far. 
 
 OVEI^HEAI^D IN DUDEDOM. • 
 
 “Why, Awthaw, what makes youah hand twem- 
 ble so?” 
 
^¥1T AND WITS. 
 
 101 
 
 “Does it twemble?” 
 
 “It quivaws like a what dy’e call it twee, deah 
 boy, upon me soul it does.” 
 
 “Well, no wondaw. I’ve just had a feawful set 
 back. Only think of it, a fellaw spoke to me in the 
 stweet that I don’t know; nevaw saw him in me 
 life befaw. I give you me honaw I didn’t, and he 
 had the awdacity to stop me and awsk faw a light 
 faw his cigawette.” 
 
 fiN UNAGGOMMODAITING gOSiFMASTBI^. 
 
 “You seem unhappy,” ventured a hotel loiterer 
 to a glum-looking citizen of the woolly west yes- 
 terday. 
 
 “Guess you’d be so, too, if you lived where I do. 
 I’m goin’ on to Washington to see the president.” 
 
 “Political trouble?” 
 
 “National trouble, sir; international trouble. 
 Don’t letters come from all over the globe, say 
 now?” 
 
 “Oh, I see; something wrong in the postoffice 
 department.” 
 
 “Wrong! I should say there was. You see I 
 live at Snag Forks, and Bill Wilkins he’s been 
 postmaster for nigh on to six years. At first he 
 done the square thing. Wlien the letters come 
 they was dumped in a candle box on the bar-room 
 
102 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 floor, and the boys had no trouble a findin’ their 
 mail. But Bill ain’t the man he used ter be. He’s 
 got as unaccommodatin’ as a Texas steer. Bust 
 he moved the box to the counter, and we had to 
 nearly break our arms a-divin’ fer the letters. Then 
 if the durned coyote didn’t get a new painted con- 
 sarn with glass in front so we couldn’t git at the 
 mail at all, and, as if that weren’t insult enough to 
 honest men, he went to work, rigged up a lot of 
 boxes, and hang me if he didn’t put locks on to ’em 
 and go to chargin’ storage. I just tell you I’ll git 
 that Bill Wilkins out of that there place or die fur 
 it, now you see.” > ' 
 
 ItiHY THE Shad is bony. 
 
 When an angel made shad 
 The devil was mad. 
 
 For it seemed such a feast of delight, 
 
 So, to punish the giver, 
 
 He plunged in the river. 
 
 And stuck in the hones out of spite. 
 
 But when the strawberries red 
 First illumined their bed 
 The angel looked on and was glad; 
 
 But the devil, ’tis said. 
 
 Fairly pounded his head. 
 
 For he’d used all the bones for the shad! 
 
B 
 
 ifDf?Afnr 
 
 Cc 
 
THE doctor’s profanity. 
 
 P. TO3. 
 
WIT AND WITS, 
 
 103 
 
 ©HE DOGTOr^’S Bi^oeanity. 
 
 Dr. Sundel was a society swell who liked to air 
 his Latin. He had taken an acquaintance to call 
 on Mrs. Parvenu, and the man had never gone 
 back again, and when the lady saw the doctor she 
 asked him about it. 
 
 “Ah, doctor,” she said, “where is your friend?” 
 
 “Not my friend, madam,” corrected the doctor; 
 “he was merely a quondam acquaintance.” 
 
 “Sir!” exclaimed the lady, in horrified amaze- 
 ment. ‘‘I don’t know the relation existing, but if 
 you cannot express yourself in ladies’ company 
 without profanity, you had better follow your 
 friend.” 
 
 fl gUlEJH (©HAT. 
 
 J is a wideawake young business man on 
 
 State street. Sauntering about at the Art club 
 exhibition recently, he chanced to meet a friend, a 
 deaf mute, who was conversing with a companion 
 
 in sign language. Greeting J cordially the 
 
 deaf mute drew out a pocket pad and pencil and 
 after a brief pencil and paper conversation intro- 
 duced his companion by the same means and 
 shortly after withdrew. 
 
 J and the gentleman discussed the pictures 
 
 pleasantly for twenty minutes or more, meanwhile 
 
101 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 covering the backs of sundry envelopes and scraps 
 of paper with their pencilings, when a fourth char- 
 acter in this little drama came upon the scene, a 
 friend of J ’s new-made acquaintance. 
 
 “Hello, George!” said the new-made acquain- 
 tance to the new comer, famiharly, “how do you 
 like the pictures this year?” 
 
 “Thunder and Mars!” exclaimed J in sur- 
 
 prise, “can you talk?” 
 
 “Well, I should say so,” said the gentleman, 
 equally surprised, as he suddenly put away pencil 
 and paper. “Ain’t youAedbi and dumb?” 
 
 “Not by a good deal!” J I’^eplied, thrusting 
 
 into his pockety. an envelope nearly covered with 
 pencil marks, “but I’ll kill Dummy next time I 
 meet him.” 
 
 fl Good Indoi^sbmbnt. 
 
 We never speak as we pass by. 
 
 Although a tear bedims his eye ; 
 
 I know he thinks of when he wrote 
 His name across my three-months’ note. 
 
 — Pitch. 
 
 K^IGI^ING fflADB Ho DIPPBI^BNGB. 
 
 “A little story” brings to mind with renewed 
 force the old proverb, “truth is stranger than fic- 
 

 % 
 
 t; 
 
 5 
 
 ir-,. 
 
 
 
 r- 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
THE CYCLONE SWOOPED DOWN. 
 
 p. io6. 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 105 
 
 tion.” We were talking of what disposition to 
 make of a kicking cow, when our hired man said : 
 guess I can find a customer for her. There’s 
 
 an Irishman up in K who bought a cow from 
 
 one of our neighbors. He told the Irishman that 
 he must tell him one thing about the cow before 
 he closed the bargain — that the cow would some- 
 times kick.” 
 
 ^‘The tender “God-ordained protector” of our 
 sex replied : / 
 
 “That makes no difference; my wife does the 
 milking.” 
 
 I have often heard such things told, and have 
 sometimes thought they must have been made up 
 “to point a moral or adorn a tale.” But this is a 
 fact ; for I questioned the man about it and he said 
 he knew it was true. 
 
 (©YGLONES. 
 
 BILLIE NYE. 
 
 We were riding along on the bounding train 
 yesterday, and some one spoke of the free and 
 democratic way that people in this country got 
 acquainted with each other while traveling. Then 
 we got to talking about railway sociability and 
 railway etiquette, when a young man from East 
 
106 
 
 THE WORLD^S 
 
 Jasper, who had wildly jumped and grabbed his 
 valise every time the train hesitated, said that it 
 was queer what railway travel would do in the way 
 of throwing people together. He said that in 
 Nebraska once he and a large, corpulent gentle- 
 man, both total strangers, were thrown together 
 while trying to jump a washout, and an intimacy 
 sprang up between them that had ripened into open 
 hostihty. 
 
 From that we got to talking about natural phe- 
 nomena and storms. I spoke of the cyclone with 
 some feeling and a little bitterness, perhaps, briefly 
 telling my own experience, and making the storm 
 as loud and wet and violent as possible. 
 
 Then a gentleman from Kansas, named George L. 
 Murdock, an old cattleman, was telling of a cyclone 
 that came across his range two years ago last Sep- 
 tember. The sky was clear to begin with, and then 
 all at once, as Mr. Murdock states, a little cloud no 
 larger than a man’s hand might have been seen. 
 It moved toward the southwest gently, with its 
 hands in its pockets for a few moments, and then 
 Mr. Murdock discovered that it was of a pale-green 
 color, about sixteen hands high, with dark-blue mane 
 and tail. About a mile from where he stood the cy- 
 clone, with great force, swooped down and, with a 
 muffled roar, swept a quarter-section of land out 
 from under a heavy mortgage without injuring the 
 
V;' IT AND WITS. 
 
 107 
 
 mortgage in the least. He says that people came 
 for miles the following day to see the mortgage, 
 still on file at the office of the register of deeds and 
 jnst as good as ever. 
 
 Then a gentleman named Bean, of western Min- 
 nesota, a man who went there in an early day and 
 homesteaded it when his nearest neighbor was fifty 
 miles away, spoke of a cyclone that visited his 
 county before the telegraph or railroad had pene- 
 trated that part of the state. 
 
 Mr. Bean said it was very clear up to the mo- 
 ment that he noticed a cloud in the northwest no 
 larger than a man’s hand. It sauntered down in a 
 southwesterly direction like a cyclone that had all 
 summer to do its chores in. Then it gave two 
 quick snorts and a roar, wiped out of existence all 
 the farm buildings he had, sucked the well dry, 
 soured all the milk in the milk house, and spread 
 desolation all over that quarter-section. But Mr. 
 Bean said that the most remarkable thing he re- 
 membered was this : He had dug about a pint of 
 angle worms that morning, intending to go over to 
 the lake toward evening and catch a few perch. 
 But when the cyclone came it picked up those 
 angle worms and drove them head first through his 
 new grindstone without injuiring the worms or im- 
 pairing the grindstone. He would have had the 
 grindstone photographed, he said, if the angle 
 
108 
 
 THE WOELITS 
 
 worms could have been kept still long enough. He 
 said that they were driven just far enough through 
 to hang on the other side like a lambrequin. 
 
 The cyclone is certainly a wonderful phenomenon, 
 its movements are so erratic, and in direct violation 
 of all known rules. 
 
 Mr. Louis P. Barker of northern Iowa was also 
 on the car, and he described a cyclone that he saw 
 in the ’70s along in September at the close of a hot 
 but clear day. The first intimation that Mr. Bar- 
 ker had of an approaching storm was a small cloud 
 no larger than a man’s hand which he discovered 
 moving slowly toward the southwest with a gyra- 
 tory movement. It then appeared to be a funnel- 
 shaped cloud which passed along near the surface 
 of the ground with its apex now and then lightly 
 touching a barn or a well, and pulling it out by the 
 roots. It would then bound lightly into the air 
 and spit on its hands. What he noticed most care- 
 fully on the following day was the wonderful 
 evidences of its powerful suction. It sucked a 
 milch cow absolutely dry, pulled all the water out’ 
 of his .cistern, and then went around to the waste- 
 water pipe that led from the bath-room and drew a 
 2-year-old child, who was taking a bath at the time, 
 clear down through the two-inch waste-pipe, a dis- 
 tance of 150 feet. He had two inches of the pipe 
 with him and a lock of hair from the child’s head. 
 
WIT AND WITS . 
 
 109 
 
 It is such circumstances as these, coming to ns 
 from the mouths of eye-witnesses, that lead us to 
 exclaim : How prolific is nature and how wonder- 
 ful are all her works — including poor, weak man ! 
 Man, who comes into the world clothed in a little 
 brief authority, perhaps, and nothing else to speak 
 of. He rises up in the morning, prevaricates, and 
 dies. Where are our best liars to-day? Look for 
 them where you will and you will find that they 
 are passing away. Go into the cemetery and there 
 you will find them mingling with the dust, but 
 striving still to perpetuate their business by mark- 
 ing their tombs with a gentle prevarication, chiseled 
 in enduring stone. 
 
 I have heard it intimated by people who seemed 
 to know what they were talking about that truth is 
 mighty and will prevail, but I do not see much 
 show for her till the cyclone season is over. 
 
 Y)E Ought to &ay Some op ©hem. 
 
 A gentleman met Senator Beck yesterday for 
 the first time in a dozen years, and the greeting 
 was cordial. 
 
 “Ah, senator,” said the friend, “you don’t look a 
 day older than you did the last time I saw you.” 
 
 “I’m a little grayer, possibly,” suggested the sen- 
 ator, with a pleased smile. 
 
no 
 
 THE W0RLH8 
 
 “You are looking in excellent health, too,” pur- 
 sued the friend. 
 
 ‘‘Thank you. And do you know,” continued the 
 senator, “that I am 64 years old and I never paid 
 hut one doctor’s bill in my life, and that for a 
 broken arm?” 
 
 “Is that so?” asked the friend in surprise. 
 
 “Fact, I assure you.” 
 
 “Well, senator,” said the friend, with a signifi- 
 cant smile, “don’t you think it is almost time you 
 were paying some of them and preserving ^mur 
 credit?” 
 
 The senator moved for an executive session and 
 presented a hill of explanations. 
 
 ©HE Ripest 
 
 Fond Husband — Well, my dear what are you 
 sobbing about? 
 
 Young Wife — Why, that sponge cake I sent to 
 the agricultural fair has just taken the first prize. 
 Boo-hoo. 
 
 Fond Husband — What is there to cry about in 
 that? You ought to feel proud, my dear, of your 
 knowledge of the culinary art. 
 
 Young Wife — But you don’t understand. The 
 judges gave it the award as the best specimen of 
 concrete sent in. Boo-hoo . — Chicago Bamhler, 
 
GOOD REASON FOR WALKING SO FAR. 
 
 P. III. 
 
) 
 
WIT AND WITS, 
 
 111 
 
 Good I^eason poi^ ^alp^ing so Fai^. 
 
 Lady of the House (to constant seeker of pecu- 
 niary assistance) — Here again, Mrs. Maloney? 
 Now, why have you walked all this distance? 
 
 Mrs. Maloney — Shure, mum, if yez knew the 
 agony me feet are givin’ uv me ye’d not wondher 
 oi tramped five miles to see yez. 
 
 t 
 
 V' ■• • • 
 
 Ghild^ FJomangei^. 
 
 The imagination of a 3-year-old boy is often a 
 stupendous thing. One can’t help wondering how 
 much a child of that age believes of his own big 
 stories. This one for example : 
 
 ‘T went out in de front yard dis morning,” said 
 Benny, ‘‘and I saw a ’nawful big horse up in a tree, 
 and I took a gun and shooted it, and I tooked it 
 into de house and my mamma picked de fedders off 
 it and cooked it for hreksit!” 
 
 ©HE Swo Beaux. 
 
 Two beaux had the beautiful maiden, 
 
 Two beaux she had waiting upon her ; 
 
 One vowed that he loved her, the other one praised 
 her. 
 
 And the one that praised her won her. 
 
112 
 
 TEE W0ELD'>8 
 
 On ithb Bedding ^oui^ney. 
 
 He — My dear, are yon comfortable over there in 
 the corner? 
 
 She — Quite comfortable, darling. 
 
 He — You are quite sure you are not cold? 
 
 She — Not at all. 
 
 He — No draught from the window? 
 
 She — None, thanks. 
 
 He — Well, then, I will change seats with you? 
 
 PLANTED TO I<^EEP THE O^ATGH. 
 
 A man came into the store with a battered old 
 watch which he wanted repaired. One of the 
 clerks looked at it and remarked that it was almost 
 past mending. 
 
 “Yes,” said the other, “but I want to keep that 
 watch. It was given to me by my brother on his 
 death bed, and I want to preserve it as a momen- 
 tum. 
 
 fl ©UTE Sign. 
 
 A Clark street justice, who makes a specialty of 
 remarrying divorced couples who have become re- 
 conciled, hangs out the sign, “Kepairing neatly 
 done.” 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 113 
 
 ©AI(BN Pr^OM ''lilPB.” 
 Tom — How’s that cold of yours? 
 Bert — Oh! I got rid of it. 
 
 Tom — What did you take? 
 
 Bert — A fresh one. 
 
 Diffident Lover — I know that I am a perfect 
 bear in my manner. 
 
 She — Sheep, you mean ; bears hug people — you 
 do nothing but bleat. 
 
 Yes, John Henry, an umpire might be called a 
 man of judgement, but you’d better not let him 
 hear you making any such jokes in his vicinity. 
 He might bat you on the head, base man ! 
 
 Customer (in restaurant) — I ordered some cheese, 
 waiter. 
 
 Waiter — Yes, sah. I done brought it, sah. 
 Customer — Well, where is it, then? 
 
 Waiter — Didn’t yo’ eat it? 
 
 Customer — Eat it? Certainly not. 
 
 Waiter — Den I ’spects it must a got away, sah. 
 
 €VBI^Y30DY K^NBW I 7 IM. 
 
 C. P. Kimball, of Chicago, who is the United 
 States consul at Stuttgart under this administra- 
 
 8 
 
114 : 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 tion, is one of the men who delights to tell good 
 stories. He has a large fund from which to draw. 
 I was chatting with him a day or two ago on his 
 return from Germany for a business trip, when 
 something was said about presidential candidates. 
 The comparative obscurity of Mr. Cleveland at the 
 time of his nomination was mentioned. 
 
 “That always reminds me of a New Hampshire 
 story,” said Mr. Kimball. “I was stopping in New 
 Hampshire for a few days when Lincoln was nomi- 
 nated at Chicago. An old countryman from a 
 little village back in the 'Country had come to town 
 and was in the hotel office when theAiews came. 
 
 '“‘Who is this man Lincoln? 'he asked. 
 
 “There was some explanation and the old fellow 
 went on: “Well, I’m afeard theyv’e made a mis- 
 take. They ought to have nominated a man that 
 was more ginerally known. They should have 
 come to our town and nominated ’Squire Ichabod 
 Bartlett. Everybody knows him.’ ” 
 
 ©AIPBGHISEI^Y. 
 
 First smaU boy — Say, Johnny, where are you in 
 Sunday School? 
 
 Second small boy — Oh, we’re in the middle of 
 original sin. 
 
 First small boy — That ain’t much; we’re past 
 redemption. 
 
NEVER TOO OLD TO LEARN. 
 
 P. II5; 
 
mr AND WITS. 
 
 115 
 
 NEVER TOO OLD TO LEARN. 
 
 Little boy (studying his Latin lesson) — Pa, what 
 does “mort” mean ? 
 
 Pa (ex- alderman and builder) — Is that word in 
 your book? 
 
 Little boy — Yes. 
 
 Pa - -Well, it means “more mortar,” but I didn’t 
 know it was a Latin word. 
 
 Lottie’s last chance and she took it. 
 
 There was a wedding Lc.pfast. The groom to 
 the little girl: “You have a new brother now, you 
 know.” 
 
 “Yeth,” responded the little one, “ma seth it wath 
 Lottie’s lasth chance, so she better take it.” 
 
 The rest of the little one’s talk was drowned in a 
 clatter of knives and forks. 
 
 Legal ^Issistangb. 
 
 “I sent you an account of $25 for collection,” 
 said a man coming into the office of a Dakota law- 
 yer. 
 
 “Yes, you did.” 
 
 “What success have you had?” 
 
 “Sued him last week and got it.” 
 
 “That’s good. Give me the money and tell me 
 the amount of your fees and I will pay you.” 
 
116 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 “My fees are $50. I have given you credit for 
 the $25 collected — pay me another $25 and we’ll 
 be square.” 
 
 “What!” gasped the man, “I don’t see where I 
 make anything by collecting the debt.” 
 
 “Nothing, my dear sir, from a money point of 
 view, but you have the satisfaction of knowing that 
 a dishonest man has been brought to justice! You 
 can use your own pleasure about paying that $25 
 now; I took the precaution to commence suit 
 against you for the am(^unt ' this morning.” — Es- 
 telline (D. T.) Bell. 
 
 Hot a Bad ©r^ip. 
 
 “Isn’t this road one of the roughest in the whole 
 w^orld?” asked a traveler over a Missouri branch, of 
 the conductor. 
 
 “No, I don’t think so,” was the complacent 
 reply. 
 
 “But — great heavens! — good lands! — what do 
 you call this?” shouted the passenger, as he hung 
 to the seat. 
 
 “The hind trucks are off the rail sir — nothing 
 more. You can’t expect to run on the ties with- 
 out some little unpleasantness, although the engi- 
 neer will do his best to reduce it to the minimum.” 
 
: 
 

 A FAR-REACHING MULTITUDE OF DOGS. 
 
 P. iig. 
 
WIT AND WITS, 
 
 117 
 
 ©WAIN’S ^MUSING SEQUELS UO SEV- 
 Ef^AL ^NEGDOTES. 
 
 All my life, from boyhood up, I have had the 
 habit of reading a certain set of anecdotes written 
 in the quaint vein of the Worlds ingenious Fabu- 
 list, for the lesson they taught me and the pleasure 
 they gave me. They lay always convenient to my 
 hand, and whenever I thought meanly of my kind I 
 turned to them, and they banished that sentiment ; 
 whenever I felt myself to be selfish, sordid, and 
 ignoble, I turned to them, and they told me what 
 to do to win back my self-respect. Many times I 
 wished that the charming anecdotes had not stopped 
 with their happy climaxes, but had continued the 
 pleasing history of the several benefactors and bene- 
 ficiaries. This wish rose in my breast so persistently 
 that at last I determined to satisfy it by seeking 
 out the sequels of those anecdotes myself. So I 
 set about it, and after great labor and tedious re- 
 search accomplished my task. I will lay the result 
 before you, giving you each anecdote in its turn, 
 and following it with its sequel as I gathered it 
 through my investigations. 
 
 The Gkateful Poodle. — One day a benevolent 
 physican (who had read the books), having found a 
 stray poodle suffering from a broken leg, conveyed 
 the poor creature home, and, after setting and ban- 
 
118 
 
 Tilt: WORLD^S 
 
 daging the injured limb, gave the little out-cast his 
 liberty again, and thought no more about the 
 matter. But how great was his surprise, upon 
 opening his door one morning, some days later, to 
 find the grateful poodle patiently waiting there, and 
 in its company another stray dog, one of whose legs, 
 by some accident, had been broken. The kind 
 physician at once relieved the distressed animal, nor 
 did he forget to admire the inscrutable goodness and 
 mercy of God, who had been willing to use so 
 humble an instrument as the poor outcast poodle 
 for the inculcating of, etc., etc., etc. 
 
 Sequel . — The next morning the benevolent phy- 
 sician found the two dogs, beaming with gratitude, 
 waiting at his door, and with them two other dogs, 
 — cripples. The cripples were speedily healed, and 
 the four went their way, leaving the benevolent 
 physician more overcome by pious wonder than 
 ever. The day passed, the morning came. There 
 at the door sat novr the four reconstructed dogs, 
 and with them four others requiring reconstruc- 
 tion. This day also passed, and another morning 
 came ; and now sixteen dogs, eight of them newly 
 crippled, occupied the sidewalk and the people were 
 going around. By noon the broken legs were all 
 set, but the pious wonder in the good physician’s 
 breast was beginning to get mixed with involuntary 
 profanity. The sun rose once more, and exhibited 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 119 
 
 thirty- two dogs, sixteen of them with broken legs, 
 occupying the sidewalk and half of the street ; the 
 human spectators took up the rest of the room. 
 The cries of the wounded, the songs of the healed 
 brutes, and the comments of the on-looking citizens 
 made great and inspiring cheer, but traffic was in- 
 terrupted in that street. The good physician hired 
 a couple of assistant surgeons and got through his 
 benevolent work before dark, first taking the pre- 
 caution to cancel his church membership, so that 
 he might express himself with the latitude which 
 the case required. 
 
 But some things have their limits. When once 
 more the morning dawned, and the good physician 
 looked out upon a massed and far-reaching multi- 
 tude of clamorous and beseeching dogs, he said, 
 ‘T might as well acknowledge it, I have been fooled 
 by the books ; they only tell the pretty part of the 
 story, and then stop. Fetch me the shot-gun; this 
 thing has gone along far enough.” 
 
 He issued forth with his weapon, and chanced to 
 step upon the tail of the original poodle, who 
 promply bit him in the leg. Now the great and 
 good work which this poodle had been engaged in 
 had engendered in him such a mighty and augment- 
 ing enthusiasm as to turn his weak head at last and 
 drive, him mad. A month later, when the benevo- 
 lent physician lay in the death throes of hydro- 
 
120 
 
 THE WOHLD^S 
 
 phobia, he called his weeping friends about him, 
 and said: 
 
 “Beware of the hooks. They tell but half of the 
 story. Whenever a poor wretch asks you for help, 
 and you feel a doubt as to what result may follow 
 from your benevolence, give yourself the benefit of 
 the doubt and kill the applicant.” 
 
 And so saying, he turned his face to- the wall and 
 gave up the ghost. 
 
 The Grateful Husband. — One day a lady was 
 driving through the principal street of a great city 
 with her little boy, when the horses took fright and 
 dashed madly away, hurling the coachman from his 
 box and leaving the occupants of the carriage 
 paralyzed with terror. But a brave youth who was 
 driving a grocery wagon threw himself before the 
 plunging animals, and succeeded in arresting their 
 flight at the peril of his own.* The grateful lady 
 took his number, and upon arriving at her home 
 related the heroic act to her husband (who had 
 read the books), who listened with streaming eyes 
 to the moving recital, and who, after returning 
 thanks, in conjunction with his restored loved ones, 
 to Him who suffereth not even a sparrow to fall to 
 the ground unnoticed, sent for the brave young 
 person, and, placing a check for §500 in his hand, 
 said: “Take this as a reward for your noble act, 
 
 * This is probably a misprint.— ilf. T. 
 
WIT AND WITS, 
 
 121 
 
 William Ferguson, and, if ever you shall need a 
 friend, remember that Thompson McSpadden has a 
 grateful heart.” 
 
 Let us learn from this that a good deed cannot 
 fail to benefit the doer, however humble he may be. 
 
 Sequel . — William Furguson called the next week 
 and asked Mr. McSpadden, to use his influence to 
 get him a higher employment, he feeling capable of 
 better things than driving a grocer’s wagon. Mr. 
 McSpadden got him an under-clerkship at a 
 good salary. 
 
 Presently William Ferguson’s mother fell sick, 
 and William — well, to cut the story short, Mr. 
 McSpadden consented to take her into his house. 
 Before long she yearned for the society of her 
 younger children : so Mary and Julia were admitted 
 also, and little Jimmy, their brother. Jimmy had' 
 a pocket-knife, and he wandered into the drawing- 
 room with it one day, alone, and reduced $10,000 
 worth of furniture to an indeterminable value in 
 rather less than three-quarters of an hour. A day 
 or two later he fell down stairs and broke his neck, 
 and seventeen of his family’s relatives came to the 
 house to attend the funderal. This made them 
 acquainted, and they kept the kitchen occupied 
 after that, and likewise kept the McSpaddens busy 
 hunting up situations of various sorts for them, and 
 hunting up more when they wore these out. The 
 
122 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 old woman drank a good deal and swore a good 
 deal; but the grateful McSpaddens knew it was 
 their duty to reform her, considering what her son 
 had done for them, so they clave nobly to their 
 generous task. William came often and got de- 
 creasing sums of money, and asked for higher and 
 more lucrative employments, — which the grateful 
 McSpadden more or less promptly procured for 
 him. McSpadden consented also, after some de- 
 mur, to fit William for college ; but when the first 
 vacation came, and the hero requested to be sent 
 to Europe for his health, the persecuted McSpad- 
 den rose against the tyrant and revolted. He 
 plainly and squarely refused. William Ferguson’s 
 mother was so astonished that she let her gin- 
 bottle drop and her profane lips refused to do their 
 office. When she recovered, she said in a hah- 
 gasp, “Is this your gratitude? Where would your 
 wife and boy be now but for my son?” 
 
 William said, “Is this your gratitude! Did I 
 save your wife’s life or not? Tell me that!” 
 
 Seven relations swarmed in from the kitchen and 
 each said, “And this is his gratitude!” 
 
 Wilham’s sisters stared, bewildered, and said, 
 “And this is his grat — ” but were interrupted by 
 their mother, who burst into tears and exclaimed, 
 “To think that my sainted little Jimmy threw 
 away his life in the service of such a reptile!” 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 123 
 
 Then the pluck of the revolutionary McSpadden 
 rose to the occasion, and he replied with fervor, 
 “Out of my house, the whole beggarly tribe of you! 
 I was beguiled by the books, but shall never be 
 beguiled again, — once is sufficient for me,” And 
 turning to William, he shouted, “Yes you did save 
 my wife’s life, and the next man that does it shall 
 die in his tracks!” 
 
 Not being a clergyman, I place my text at the 
 end of my sermon instead of at the beginning. Here 
 it is, from Mr. Noah Brooks’ Eecollections of 
 President Lincoln. 
 
 “J. H. Hackett, in his part of Falstaff, was an 
 actor who gave Mr. Lincoln great delight. With 
 his usual desire to signify to others his sense of 
 obligation, Mr. Lincoln wrote a genial little note to 
 the actoi’, expressing his pleasure at witnessing his 
 performance. Mr. Hackett, in reply, sent a book 
 of some sort ; perhaps it was one of his own author- 
 ship. He also wrote several notes to the President, 
 One night, quite late, when the episode had passed 
 out of my mind, I went to the White House in 
 answer to a message. Passing into the President’s 
 office, I noticed, to my surprise, Hackett sitting in 
 the anteroom as if waiting for an audience. The 
 Preident asked me if any one was outside. On 
 being told, he said, half sadly, “Oh, I can’t see him, 
 1 can’t see him : I was in hopes he had gone away.’ 
 
124 
 
 THE WORLD'' S 
 
 Then he added, ‘Now this just illustrates the diffi- 
 culty of having pleasant friends and acquaintances 
 in this place. You know how I liked Hackett as 
 an actor and how I wrote to tell him so. He sent 
 me that hook and there I thought the matter would 
 end. He is a master of his place in the profession, 
 I suppose, and well fixed in it; but just because we 
 had a little friendly correspondence, such as any 
 two men might have, he wants something. Yliat 
 do you sui^pose Jie wants?’ I could not guess, and 
 Mr. Lincoln added: ‘Well, he wants to he Consul 
 to London, Oh, dear I’ ” 
 
 I will observe, in conclusion, that the Wilham 
 Ferguson incident occurred, and within my person- 
 al knowledge, though I have changed the nature of 
 the details to keep William from recognizing him- 
 self in it. 
 
 All the readers of this article have in some sw'eet 
 and gushing hour of their lives played the role of 
 Magnanimous-Incident hero. I wish I knew how 
 many there are among them who are wilhng to 
 talk about that episode, and like to be reminded of 
 the consequences that flowed from it. 
 
 BAr^iriNGJPON’s Gai^LiY Life. 
 
 Mr. B. P. Shillaber has been writing a bright 
 and graceful article concerning the good old lady 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 125 
 
 — Mrs. Partington. Her first innocently wise say- 
 ing was inspired by a remark of one of the news- 
 paper men, on a night when a steamer from 
 England had brought news of an advance in bread- 
 stuft's, who said he did not care, as he bought his 
 flour by the half-dollar’s worth. — “Mrs. Partington” 
 was then made to say, in the httle paragraph that 
 Mr. Shillaber wrote, that it made “no difference to 
 her whether flour was dear or cheap, as she always 
 received just so much for a half dollar’s worth.” 
 This was copied the next day, and the inducement 
 was thus offered to try again. This meeting with 
 like success, they were kept on, until Mrs. P., as 
 she expressed it, had obtained a “memento” she 
 could not check. — Mr. Shillaber adds : “Mrs. Part- 
 ington” was an entirely new creation, for I had 
 never seen the ^Eivals’ acted, nor read it, and 
 though I knew, from extracts in comic compila- 
 tions, of Mrs. Malaprop’s existence and character, 
 it moved no pulse of my ambition. The real inspi- 
 ration which prompted the effort to continue the 
 Partington sayings, when the idea took positive 
 form, was the constant hearing of expressions, by 
 very excellent people, that seemed too funny to be 
 allowed to pass into forgetfulness, — queer errors, 
 inadvertantly made, and otherwise.” 
 
126 
 
 THE WORLHS 
 
 Spying. 
 
 I sit in the “light-house tower 
 With a spy-glass in my hand, 
 And to test its wondrous power 
 I scan the sea and land. 
 
 The long day nears its ending 
 The sun sinks to the sea, 
 
 The sunset colors blending 
 In gentle harmony. 
 
 The beach is still and lonely. 
 
 No one but me is near. 
 
 The glass discloses only 
 A couple on the pier. 
 
 Far out from land they’re sitting, 
 
 - She nestling close to him. 
 
 And with ardor unremitting 
 They spoon in the twilight dim. 
 
 Her head upon his shoulder. 
 
 She sits in perfect bhss. 
 
 And smiles when he grows bolder 
 And steals from her a kiss. 
 
 And I mildly wonder whether 
 They would sit upon the pier. 
 And spoon like that together 
 If they knew that I was here. 
 
IN PERFECT BLISS 
 
 P. 126. 
 
! 
 
 •V. - 
 
 > 
 
 
 imRAfnr 
 
 rr T"E 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 127 
 
 Decided ^dyanipage. 
 
 “Yes,” remarked a Kentucky man at the Long 
 Credit Hotel yesterday afternoon, “we’ve never 
 thought much of Chicago down our way, sah, but 
 you folks show mighty good sense in some things.” 
 
 “I flatter myself we do,” returned the host, 
 genially. 
 
 “No doubt of it, sah, and what pleases me most, 
 sah, is the way you have of keeping disagreeable 
 things out of sight.” 
 
 “Yes?” " 
 
 “Now take your funnels, sah, whak a glorious 
 advantage they are ! ’ ’ 
 
 “H’m, h’m; yes — of — course,” answered the 
 host, dubiously, “but I don’t quite understand what 
 disagreeable thing they keep out of sight.” 
 
 “Water, sah, water.” 
 
 ^HAJP ©HEY Said. 
 
 We were walking in the woodlands, Loo and I, 
 And it seemed I’d never seen so fair a sky 
 As the one that bended o’er us. 
 
 Or heard e’er so sweet a chorus 
 As the birds sang to us as we wandered by. 
 
 That we were a pair of lovers well they knew. 
 
 For the wood doves started in their mournful coo, 
 
128 
 
 THE VrOELD^S 
 
 And an old owl who was hidden 
 In a tapering hirch, unhidden, 
 
 Eeniarked: “To-woo, to-woo, to- woo, to-woo!” 
 
 I was full of prostestations — most men are — 
 
 I compared my love to an eternal star. 
 
 When a frowsy old bell wether,' 
 
 Who had somehow slipped his tether. 
 
 Gave a scornful “Bah !” which set my nerves ajar. 
 
 Such irrelevancy knocks the romance some. 
 
 So I walked on toward the lakelet — hushed and 
 dumb. 
 
 There beneath the houghs enlacing. 
 
 Paused we for a fond embracing. 
 
 And a frog who watched us gurgled out: “Yum- 
 yuml” 
 
 I told her all the future held in fee. 
 
 Of the money I could hoard as an M. D., 
 
 When a venerable drake 
 Came paddling from the lake 
 And cried out “Quack!” derisively at me. 
 
 Then I fled in haste that woodland scene away, 
 And I haven’t gone there since, and never may. 
 For I’ve reached the sad conclusion 
 That birds’ and beasts’ intrusion 
 In love affairs will make one lose the day ! 
 
 — Texas Siftings. 
 
Wit AND WITS. 
 
 m 
 
 QiA^l{ ©WAIN’S 05AT6H. 
 
 My beautiful new watch had run eighteen months 
 without losing or gaining, and without breaking any 
 part of its machinery, or stopping. I had come to 
 believe it infalhble in its judgements about the time 
 of day, and to consider its constitution and its anat- 
 omy imperishable . But at last, one night, I let it 
 run down. I grieved about it as if it were a recog- 
 nized messenger and forerunner of calamity. But 
 by-and-by I cheered up, set the watch by guess, and 
 commanded my bodings and superstitions to depart. 
 dNext day I stepped into the chief jeweler’s to set it 
 by the exact time, and the head of the establish- 
 ment took it out of my hand and proceeded to set 
 it for me. Then he said, “She is four minutes slow 
 — regulator wants pushing up.” I tried to stop 
 him — tried to make him understand that the watch 
 kept perfect time. But no ; all this human cabbage 
 could see was that the watch was four minutes 
 slow, and the regulator must be pushed up a little ; 
 and so, while I danced around him in anguish, 
 and implored him to let the watch alone, he 
 calmly and cruelly did the shameful deed, r My 
 watch began to gain. It gained faster and faster 
 day by day. Within the week it sickened to a 
 raging fever, and its pulse went up to a hun- 
 dred and fifty in the shade. At the end of two 
 
 9 
 
130 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 months it had left all the timepieces of the town 
 far in the rear, and was a fraction over thirteen 
 days ahead of the almanac. It was away into No- 
 vember enjoying the snow, while the October leaves 
 were still turning. It hurried up house rent, bills 
 payable, and such things, in such a ruinous way 
 that I could not abide it.^I took it to the watch- 
 maker to be regulated. He asked me if I had ever 
 had it repaired. I said no, it had never needed 
 any repairing. He looked a look of vicious happi- 
 ness and eagerly pried the watch open, and then 
 put a small dice dox into his eye and peered into 
 its machinery. He said it w^anted cleaning and 
 oiling, besides regulating — come in a week. After 
 being cleaned, and oiled, and regulated, my watch 
 slowed down to that degree that it ticked like a 
 tolling bell. ) \ began to be left by trains ;^'^I failed 
 all appointments;^'! got to missing my dinner ;‘^'^my 
 watch strung out three days’ grace to four and let 
 me go to protest ;^^I^ gradually drifted back into 
 yesterday ,'^then day befor^ then into last week, and 
 hy-and-by the comprehension came upon me that 
 all solitary and alone I was lingering along in week 
 before last, and the world was out of sight. I 
 seemed to detect in myself a sort of sneaking fel- 
 low feeling for the mummy in the museum, and a 
 3 desire to swap news with him.^ I went to a watch- 
 maker again. — He took the watch all to pieces 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 131 
 
 while I waited, and tlien said the barrel was 
 ‘‘swelled.” He said he could reduce it in three 
 days. After this the watch averaged well, but 
 nothing more. For half a day it would go hke the 
 very mischief, and keep up such a barking and 
 wheezing and whooping and sneezing and snorting, 
 that I could not hear myself think for the disturb- 
 ance ; and as long as it held out there was not a 
 watch in the land that stood any chance against it. 
 But the rest of the day it would keep on slowing 
 down and fooling along until all the clocks it had 
 left behind caught up again. So at last, at the end 
 of twenty-four hours, it would trot up to the judges’ 
 stand all right and just in time. It would show a fair 
 and square average, and no man could say it had 
 done more or less than its duty. But a correct 
 avearge is only a mild virtue in a watch and I took 
 this instrument to another watchmaker. He said 
 the kingbolt was broke. I said I was glad it was 
 nothing more serious. To tell the plain truth, I 
 had no idea what the kingbolt was, but I did not 
 choose to appear ignorant to a stranger. He re- 
 paired the kingbolt, but what the watch gained in 
 one way it lost in another. It would run awhile 
 and then stop awhile, and then run awhile again, 
 and so on, using its own discretion about the inter- 
 vals. And every time it went off it kicked back 
 like a musket. I padded my breast for a few days. 
 
132 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 but finally took the watch to another watchmaker. 
 tie picked it all to pieces, and turned the ruin over 
 and over under his glass ; and then he said there 
 seemed to be something the matter with the hair- 
 trigger. He fixed it and then gave it a fresh start. 
 It did well now, except that always at ten minutes 
 to ten the hands would shut together like a pair of 
 scissors, and from that time forth they would travel 
 together. The oldest man in the world could not 
 make out the time of day by such a watch, and so 
 I went again to have the thing repaired. This per- 
 son said that the crystal had got bent, and that 
 the mainspring was not straight. He also re- 
 marked that part of the works needed half-soling. 
 He made these things all right, and then my time- 
 piece performed unexceptionably, save that now 
 and then she would reel off The next twenty-four 
 hours in six or seven minutes, and then stop with 
 a bang. I went with a heavy heart to one more 
 watchmaker, and looked on while he took her to 
 pieces. Then I prepared to cross-question him 
 rigidly, for this thing was getting serious. The 
 watch had cost two hundred dollars originally, and 
 I seemed to have paid out two or three thousand 
 for repairs. While I waited and looked on I pres- 
 ently recognized in this watchmaker an old ac- 
 quaintance — a steamboat engineer of other days, 
 and not a good engineer either. He examined all 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 133 
 
 the parts carefully, just as the other watchmakers 
 had done, and then delivered his verdict with the 
 same confidence of manner. 
 
 He said — 
 
 “She makes too much steam — you want to hang 
 the monkey-wrench on the safety-valve!” 
 
 I floored him on the spot. 
 
 My uncle William (now deceased, alas !) used to 
 say that a good horse was a good horse until he 
 had run away once, and that a good watch was a 
 good watch until the repairers got a chance at it. 
 
 was Bold and Bad. 
 
 You would think to hear him talk awhile he had 
 fought with bear and crocodile. 
 
 And conquered shark, and snake, and chimpan- 
 zee; 
 
 He was valiant, brave, and mighty, and as tough 
 as hgnum- vitae. 
 
 Smart as lubricated lightning lunging through 
 immensity 1 
 
 He had killed and tanned a cannibal (and he found 
 him very tannable) 
 
 And had slaughtered many a murd’rous Esquimo ; 
 He had thrust his livid dagger through the heart’s 
 core of the jaguar. 
 
 Killed a Patagonian giant before breakfast, 
 “Don’t you know!” 
 
THE ^Y0RLD^8 
 
 13 i 
 
 But despite Parisian Pasteur, that great hydro- 
 phobic master, 
 
 A mad-dog through his village once did flee. 
 
 And he had such fear of rabies that he overturned 
 two babies. 
 
 And in wild, bareheaded fury rushed to climb 
 the nearest tree ! 
 
 In fflOUl^NING. 
 
 “Is Miss in?” 
 
 ‘‘No, miss.” 
 
 “But I saw her at the window when I drove up.” 
 
 “Very likely, miss, but you see Miss isn’t 
 
 receiving to-day. Her terrier died yesterday and 
 her mourning isn’t ready.” 
 
 ©OULD Stand It ip OIales ©ould. 
 
 “What are you going to have for supper. Snob- 
 son?” 
 
 “I want a gwilled mawow bone and some day- 
 villed kidneys, deah hoy.” 
 
 “That’s a pretty heavy supper, isn’t it, old 
 man?” 
 
 “Cawn’t help it, me hoy. It’s what Wales goes 
 in faw now, and weally, you know, if he can stand 
 it I guess I can.” 
 
"and her mourning isn’t ready." 
 
 p. 134. 
 
l?r?RARY 
 
 OF 
 
 uF iul"'**! 
 
WIT AND WITS, 
 
 i3^ ‘ 
 
 If. 
 
 If we had lived in younger days, 
 
 When minstrels sang their ladies’ praise 
 In listening courts to kings — . 
 
 What music from the raptured strings 
 I then had won to name her face 
 And peerless grace ! 
 
 In these brave days, when knightly love 
 Fared forth its constancy to prove — 
 
 If we had lived, how gladly I 
 Had faced the foe and tourney cry 
 To meet brave death or (^k'thless fame 
 In her dear name!^? ' v . ' ' > 
 
 But since we are condemned by fate 
 To walk the earth so sadly late — 
 
 I lay aside both lance and rhyme 
 And in the manner of the time. 
 
 To prove what passion in me thrills, 
 
 I — pay her bills! 
 
 K;n 06 I(-DOWN fll^GUMENT. 
 
 ‘T had a knock-down argument with the super- 
 intendent this morning,” said' a street car conduc- 
 tor to an acquaintance. 
 
 “How was that?” 
 
 “He accused me of knocking down fares and dis- 
 charged me on the spot.” 
 
. 136 
 
 THE WOHLD^S 
 
 ^AS SHOGI^BD. 
 
 Two seconds wait upon their principal to give 
 him an account of their mission to his adversary. 
 
 “You will fight with pistols.” 
 
 “Will the pistols be loaded?” 
 
 “Parhleu, of course.” 
 
 “With bullets?” 
 
 “Certainly, yes!” 
 
 Their principal frowns. 
 
 “With bullets ! But I only meant a friendly en- 
 counter, and not a combat of savages.” — Galig- 
 na n is Messenger. . 
 
 liOOI^ING ©OMPANY. 
 
 The average small hoy of the present day is sel- 
 dom at a loss tor something to say, even in the 
 most embarrassing situations. Bobby, a precocious 
 youth of 6 summers, had been indulging in profan- 
 ity, and in order to escape the punishment for which 
 his mother had made preparations he crawled under 
 a barn and remained there in a state of siege for 
 the greater part of an afternoon. When his father 
 returned at night and learned how matters stood 
 he made his way with much difficulty under the 
 barn in search of the hoy. “Hello, pa,” said Bobby 
 cheerfully, as his sire approached, “you been swear- 
 ing, too?” 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 137 
 
 Segi^ets. 
 
 ‘‘Where goest thou this summer, Fred, 
 
 To Europe or the mountains? 
 
 Wilt seek the Newport gayeties 
 Or Saratoga’s fountains?” 
 
 “Well, no, old chappie, I believe. 
 Although it’s not so tony. 
 
 That I shall take, when funds allow, . 
 
 A day off down at Coney.” 
 
 “And you. Miss Vere de Yere, which spot 
 Shalt thou this summer honor? 
 
 Shall Venice from a gondola 
 Have beauty thrust upon her? 
 
 Or, say, shall lovers in Castile 
 
 Sing sonnets neath thy casement?” 
 “Hush! Don’t let pussy leave the bag; 
 We summer in the basement.” 
 
 ©HI^EE ©QUIETS. 
 
 “My master is courting all the time nowadays,” 
 observed a servant. 
 
 “Indeed! How’s that?” 
 
 “At 10 in the morning he’s in the police court; 
 at 1 he’s in the divorce court, and at 4 he can be 
 found in the tennis court.” 
 
138 
 
 THE WORLDS S 
 
 r)B Ratui^ally Rel^t I^LAYPUL. 
 
 Lawyer (joyfully) — How do you feel now? 
 Condemned Murderer.-^wlro- lias just been re- 
 prieved) — As playful as a child, my boy. 
 
 Lawyer (slapping^ him' oil the hack) — Ah, I see ; 
 you have just skipped a rope . — The Judge. 
 
 Shby Round I^im Guilty. 
 
 In defending a client a San Bernardino lawyer 
 recently remarked to the jury: “Gentlemen, you 
 would not send a man to jail for a little thing hke 
 this. Why, gentlemen of the jury, if some of you 
 had been punished for the little offenses you have 
 committed you would be in the penitentiary to-day.” 
 Strangely enough, the jury found the accused guilty 
 at once. 
 
 It (Dade a DiPPEf^ENGE. 
 
 They began to bore for natural gas in a town in 
 southern Ohio last winter, the business being in 
 the hands of a firm. Inside of two months they 
 declared a dhddend of 28 per cent, and formed a 
 stock company. In six weeks after tliis latter 
 event an assessment of 10 per cent, was levied. 
 
 ‘T want to know how^ this comes about,” de- 
 manded an indignant stockholder, “If you made 
 

 ‘‘" * ^ t till 
 
 
 It' 
 
 rL-. 
 s< - 
 
 
 at#/. ■ ■ 
 
TAUGHT THAT FROG TO JUMP. 
 
 P. X4I. 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 139 
 
 28 per cent, profit by boring down 200 feet, how 
 does it come tliat you have to assess us at 400?” 
 
 “Easy enougli,” answered the president. “Tlie 
 28 percent, was on expectations; tlie assessment is 
 on stern reality. Somebody’s got to pay for those 
 extra 200 feet.” 
 
 ©WAIN’S GI^BAT EP^OG STOI^Y. 
 
 In compliance with the request of a friend of 
 mine, who wrote me from the East, I called on 
 good-natured, garrulous old Simon Wheeler, and 
 inquired after my friend’s friend, Leonidas W. 
 Smiley, as requested to do, and I hereunto append 
 the result. — I have a lurking suspicion that Leon- 
 idas W. Smiley is a myth; that my friend never 
 knew such a personage, and that he only conjec- 
 tured that if I asked old Wheeler about him it 
 would remind him of his infamous Jim Smiley, and 
 he would go to work and bore me to death with 
 some exasperating reminiscence of him as long and 
 as tedious as it should be useless to me. If that 
 was the design, it succeeded. 
 
 I found Simon Wheeler dozing comfortably by 
 the bar-room stove of the dilapidated tavern in the 
 decayed mining camp of Angel’s, and I noticed 
 that he was fat and bald-headed, and had an ex- 
 pression of winning gentleness and simplicity upon 
 
140 
 
 THE WORLDS 8 
 
 his tranquil countenance. He roused up, and gave 
 me good-day. I told him a friend of mine had 
 commissioned me to make some inquiries about a 
 cherished companion of his boyhood named Leoni- 
 das W. Smiley, — Bev. Leonidas W. Smiley, a 
 young minister of the Gospel, who he had heard 
 was at one time a resident of Angel’s camp. I 
 added that if Mr. Wheeler could tell me anything 
 about this Rev. Leonidas W. Smiley, I would feel 
 under many obligations to him. 
 
 Simon Wheeler backed me into a corner and 
 blockaded me there with his chair, and then sat 
 down and reeled off the monotonous narrative 
 which follows this paragraph. He never smiled, 
 he never frowned, he never changed his voice from 
 the gentle-flowing key to which he tuned his initial 
 sentence, he never betrayed the slightest suspicion 
 of enthusiasm; but all through the interminable 
 narrative there ran a vein of impressive earnest- 
 ness and sincerity, which showed me plainly that, 
 so far from his imagining that there was anything 
 ridiculous or funny about his story, he regarded it 
 as a really important matter, and admired its two 
 heroes as men of transcendant genius in finesse. I 
 let him go on in his own way, and never inter- 
 rupted him once. 
 
 There was a feller here once by the name of J im 
 Smiley, in the winter of ’49 — or may be it was the 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 141 
 
 spring of ’50 — I don’t recollect exactly, somehow, 
 though what makes me think it was one or the 
 other is because I remember the big flume warn’t 
 finished when he first come to the camp ; but any 
 way, he was the curiosest man about, always bet- 
 ting on anything that turned up you ever see, if he 
 could get anybody to bet on the other side ; and if he 
 couldn’t he’d change sides. Any way that suited 
 the other man would suit liivi — any way so’s he 
 got a bet, he was satisfied. 
 
 Well, this-yer Smiley had rat-terriers, and 
 chicken cocks, and tom-cats, and all them kind of 
 things, till you couldn’t rest, and you couldn’t 
 fetch nothing for him to bet on hut he’d match you. 
 He ketched a frog one day, and took him home, 
 and said he cal’lated to educate him : and so he 
 never done nothing for three months but set in his 
 back yard and learn that frog to jump. — And you 
 bet you he did learn him, too. He’d give him a 
 little punch behind, and the next minute you see 
 that frog whirling in the air like a doughnut — see 
 him turn one summerset, or may he a couple, if he 
 got a good start, and come down flat-footed and all 
 right, like a cat. He got him up so in the matter 
 of ketching flies, ’an kep’ him in practice so con-, 
 stant, tliat lie’d nail a fly every time as fur as he 
 could see him. Smiley said all a frog wanted was 
 education, and lie could do almost anything — and 
 
142 
 
 THE WOBLD'^8 
 
 I believe him. I’ve seen him set Dan’l Web- 
 
 ster down here on this floor — Dan’l Webster was 
 the name of the frog — sing ont, ‘‘Flies, Dan’l, flies !” 
 and quicker’!! you could wink he’d spring straight 
 up and snake a fly ofl’n the counter there, and flop 
 down on the floor agin as solid as a gob of mud, 
 and fall to scratching the side of his head with his 
 hind foot as indiflerent as if he hadn’t no idea he’d 
 been doin’ any more’n any frog might do. — You 
 never see a frog so modesl and straightfor’ard as 
 he was, for all he was so gifted. And when it come 
 to fair and square jumping on a dead level, he 
 could get over more ground at one straddle than 
 any animal of his breed you ever see. Jumping on 
 a dead level was his strongest suit, you understand ; 
 and when it come to that, Smiley would ante up 
 the money on him as long as he had a red. Smiley 
 was monstrous proud of his frog, and well he might 
 be, for fellers that have traveled and been every- 
 wheres, all said he laid over any frog that ever they 
 see. 
 
 Well, Smiley kep’ the beast in a little lattice box, 
 and he used to fetch him down town sometimes 
 and lay for a bet. One day a feller — a stranger in 
 the camp, he was — come across him with his box, 
 and says: 
 
 “What might it be that you’ve got in the box?” 
 
 And Smiley says, sorter indiflerent-iike, “It 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 might be a parrot, or it might be a canary, maybe, 
 but it ain’t — its only just a frog.” 
 
 And the feller took it, and looked at it careful, 
 and turned it round this way and that, and says, 
 “H’m — so ’tis. Well, what’s he good for?” 
 
 “Well,” Smiley says, easy and careless, “he’s good 
 enough for one thing, I should judge — he can out- 
 jump any frog in Calaveras county.” 
 
 The feller took the box again, and took another 
 long, particular look, and gave it back to Smiley, 
 and says, very deliberate, “Well,” says he, “I don’t 
 see no p’ints about that frog that’s any better’n 
 any other frog.” 
 
 “May be you don’t,” Smiley says. “Maybe you 
 understand frogs, and maybe you don’t understand 
 ’em ; maybe you’ve had experience, and maybe you 
 ain’t only an amateur, as it were. — Anyways, Iv’e 
 got my opinion, and I’ll resk forty dollars that he 
 can outjump any frog in Calaveras county.” 
 
 And the feller studied a minute, and then says, 
 kinder sad-like, “Well, I’m only a stranger here, 
 and I ain’t got no frog; but if I had a frog, I’d bet 
 you.” 
 
 And then Smiley says, “That’s all right — that’s 
 all right — if you’ll hold my box a minute. I’ll go 
 and get you a frog.” And so the feller took the 
 box, and put up his forty dollars along with Smiley’s, 
 ^nd set down to wait. 
 
iJ4 THE WORLDS 
 
 So he set there a good while thinking and think- 
 ing to hisself, and then lie got the frog out and 
 prised his mouth ope^'ra:ncf took a teaspoon and 
 filled him full of quail shot — filled liini pretty near 
 up to his chin — and set him on the floor. Smiley 
 he went to the swamp and slopped around in the 
 mud for a long time, and finally he ketched a frog, 
 and fetched him in, and give him to this feller, and 
 says : 
 
 “Now, if you’re ready, set him alongside of 
 Dan’l, with his fore-paws just even Avith Dan’l’s, 
 and I’ll gh^e the Avord.” Then he says, “One — 
 tAvo — three — git!'" and him and the feller touched 
 up the frogs from behind, and the iieAv frog hopped 
 off liA^ely, hut Dan’l gNe a heaA^e, and hysted up 
 his shoulders — so — hke a Frenchman, hut it Avarn’t 
 no use — he couldn’t budge; he Avas jilanted as sohd 
 as a church, and he couldn’t no more stir than if 
 he Avas anchored out. Smiley Avas a good deal 
 surprised, and he AA^as disgusted too, hut he didn’t 
 haA^e no idea AAdiat the matter Avas, of course. 
 
 The feller took the money and started aAvay ; and 
 AAFen he AA’as going out at the door, he sorter jerked 
 his thumb OA^er his shoulder — so — at Dan’l, and 
 says again, \ei'y dehberate, “Well,” he says, “I don’t 
 see nop’ints about that frog that’s any hetter’n any 
 other frog.” 
 
 Smiley he stood scratching his head and looking 
 
o.y/- 
 
 T' 
 
 CF T*-r£ 
 
HE BELCHED OUT A DOUBLE HANDFUL OF SHOT. 
 
 P. 145. 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 145 
 
 down at Dan’l a long time, and at last he says, “I 
 do wonder what in the nation that frog throw’d oh 
 for — I wonder if their ain’t something the matter 
 with him — he ’pears to look mighty baggy, some- 
 how.” — And ketched Dan’l by the nap of the neck, 
 and hefted him, and says “Why, blame my cats if 
 he don’t weigh five pounds!” and turned him up- 
 side down, and he belched out a double handful of 
 shot. And then he see how it was, and he was the 
 maddest man — he set the frog down and took out 
 after that feller, but he never ketched him. And — ” 
 
 [Here Simon Wheeler heard his name called 
 from the front yard, and got up to see what was 
 wanted.] And turning to me as he moved away, 
 he said, “Just set where you are, stranger, and rest 
 easy — I ain’t going to be gone a second.” 
 
 But, by your leave, I did not think that a con- 
 tinuation of the history of the enterprising vaga- 
 bond J im Smiley would be likely to afford me'much 
 information concerning the Kev. Leonidas JT, 
 Smiley, and so I started away. 
 
 gi^EGiSE Outness. 
 
 Justice of the Peace — Did the prisoner strike 
 him with malice aforethought? 
 
 Witness — No, your honor. He hit him wid his 
 fisht. 
 
 JO 
 
146 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 OSGUIiAiPION. 
 
 What is osculation, dear? 
 
 ’Tis an aggregation here 
 Of exquisite sweetness 
 Making love’s completeness; — 
 
 Please allow me 
 To show how ye : — 
 
 This — and this — is osculation ! 
 
 — Eely O'Malley, 
 
 fiN Debt. 
 
 Sir Walter Scott met an Irish beggar in the 
 street, who importuned for sixpence. The great 
 unknown, not having one, gave him a shilling, and 
 said, with a laugh: “Now, remember, you owe me 
 sixpence.” 
 
 “Och, sure enough,” said the beggar, “and God 
 grant you may live till I pay you!” 
 
 ©OLD IN (gONPIDENGE. 
 
 ^‘My dear Murphy,” said an Irishman to his 
 friend, “why did you betray the secret I told you?” 
 
 ‘Ts it betraying, you call it? Sure, when I found 
 I wasn’t able to keep it myself, didn’t I do well to 
 tell it to somebody in whose ability I had more 
 confidence than in my own?” 
 
TOLD IN CONFIDENCE. 
 
 P. 146, 
 
IICTART 
 
 OF T'-'E 
 
 y ,'>yrr,.,, •/ ILU 
 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 147 
 
 ©HE Bad IimiJiiLB Boy who Didn’jp ©ome 
 TO Gf^iep. 
 
 MAKK TWAIN. 
 
 Once there was a bad little boy whose narne was 
 Jim ; though, if you will notice, you will find that 
 bad little boys are nearly always called James, in 
 your Sunday school books. It was very strange, 
 but still it was true, that this one was called Jim. 
 
 He didn’t have any sick mother, either — a sick 
 mother who was pious, and had the consumption, 
 and would be glad to lie dowm in a grave, and be 
 at rest, but for the strong love she bore her boy, 
 and the anxiety she felt that the world would be 
 harsh and cold towards him when she was gone. 
 Most had boys in the Sunday School books are 
 named James, and have sick mothers who teach 
 them to say, “Now I lay me down,” etc., and sing 
 them to sleep with sweet, plaintive voices, and then 
 kiss them good-night, and kneel dowm by the bedside 
 and weep. But it was different with this fellow. He 
 was named Jim; and there wasn’t anything the 
 matter with his mother — no consumption, or any- 
 thing of that kind. She was rather stout than 
 otherwise ; and she was not pious : moreover, she 
 was not anxious on Jim’s account. She said if 
 he were to break his neck, it wouldn’t be much 
 
THE WORTHS 
 
 loss. She always spanked Jim to sleep; and she 
 never kissed him good-night ; on the contrary, she 
 boxed his ears when she was ready to leave him. 
 
 Once this bad little boy stole the key of the pan- 
 try, and slipped in there, and helped himself to 
 some jam, and filled up the vessel with tar, so that 
 his mother would never know the difference ; but 
 all at once a terrible feeling didn’t come over him, 
 and something didn’t seem to whisper to him, “Is 
 it right to disobey my mother? Isn’t it sinfnl to 
 do this? Where do bad little boys go who gobble 
 up their good, kind mother’s jam?” and then he 
 didn’t kneel down all alone and promise never to 
 be wicked any more, and rise up with a light, hap- 
 py heart, and go and tell his mother all about it, 
 and beg her forgiveness, and be blesed by her with 
 tears of pride and thankfulness in her eyes. No; 
 that is the way with all other bad boys in the 
 books; but it happened otherwise with this Jim, 
 strangely enough. He ate that jam, and said it 
 was buUy, in his sinful, vulgar way; and he put in 
 the tar, and said that was bully also, and laughed, 
 and observed that “the old woman would get up 
 and snort” when she found it out; and when she 
 did find is out, he denied knowing anything about 
 it ; and she whipped him severely ; and he did the 
 crying himself. Everything about this boy was 
 curious ; everything turned out differently with hirn 
 

 HE HELPED HIMSELF TO SOME JAM. 
 
 P. 148, 
 
 
WIT AND WITS, 
 
 149 
 
 from the way it does to the bad Jameses in the 
 books. 
 
 Once he chmbed up in Fari^o^d^corn’s apple- 
 tree to steal apples; and the limb didn’t break; and 
 he didn’t fall and break his arm, and get torn by 
 the farmer’s great dog, and then languish on a sick 
 bed for weeks, and repent and become good. Oh, 
 no ! he stole as many apples as he wanted, and 
 came down all right ; and he was all ready for the 
 dog, too, and knocked him endways with a rock 
 when he came to tear him. It was very strange; 
 nothing like it ever happened in those mild little 
 books with marbled backs, and with pictures in 
 them of men with swallow- tailed coats, and bell- 
 crowned hats, and pantaloons that are short in the 
 legs ; and women with the waists of their dresses 
 under their arms, and no hoops on — nothing hke it 
 in any of the Sunday school books. 
 
 Once he stole the teacher’s penknife, and when 
 he was afraid it would be found out, and he would 
 get whipped, he slipped it into George Wilson’s 
 cap — poor widow Wilson’s son, the moral boy, the 
 good little boy of the village, who always obeyed 
 his mother, and never told an untruth, and was 
 fond of his lessons and infatuated with Sunday 
 school. And when the knife dropped from the cap, 
 and poor George hung his head and blushed as if 
 in conscious guilt, and the grieved teacher charged 
 
_ 150 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 the theft upon him, and was just in the very act of 
 bringing the switch dowm upon his trembhng 
 shoulders, a white-haired improbable justice of the 
 peace did not suddenly appear in their midst, and 
 strike an attitude, and say, ‘‘Spare this noble boy; 
 there stands the cowering culprit. I was passing 
 the school-door at recess, and, unseen myself, I 
 saw the theft committed.” And then Jim didn’t 
 get whaled; and the venerable justice didn’t read 
 the tearful school a homily, and take George by 
 the hand, and say such a hoy deserved to be ex- 
 alted, and then tell him to come and make his home 
 with him, and sweep out the office, and make fires, 
 and run errands, and chop wood, and study law, 
 and help his wife to do household labors, and have 
 all the balance of the time to play, and get 'forty 
 cents a month, and be happy. No; it would have 
 happened that way in the books ; but it didn’t hap- 
 pen that way to Jim. No meddling old clam of a 
 justice dropped in to make trouble, and so the 
 model boy George got thrashed ; and Jim was glad 
 of it, because, you know, Jim hated moral boys. 
 Jim said he was “down on them milksops.” Such 
 was the coarse language of this bad, neglected boy. 
 
 But the strangest things that ever happened to 
 Jim was the time he went boating on Sunday and 
 didn’t get drowned, and that other time that he got 
 .caught out in the storm when he was fishing on 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 151 
 
 Sunday, and didn’t get struck by lightning. Why, 
 you might look and look and look through the Sun- 
 day school books from now till next Christmas, and 
 you would never come across anything like this. 
 Oh, no ! You would find that all the bad boys who 
 go boating on Sunday invariably get drowned ; and 
 all the bad boys who get caught out in storms 
 when they are fishing on Sunday invariably get 
 struck by lightning. Boats with bad boys in them 
 always upset on Sunday; and it always storms 
 when bad boys go fishing on the Sabbath. How 
 this Jim ever escaped is a mystery to me. 
 
 This Jim bore a charmed life; that must have 
 been the way of it. Nothing could hurt him. He 
 even gave the elephant in the menagerie a plug of 
 tobacco; and the elephant didn’t knock the top of 
 his head ofi with his trunk. He browsed around 
 the cupboard after essence of peppermint, and 
 didn’t make a mistake and drink aqua-fortis. He 
 stole his father’s gun, and went hunting on the 
 Sabbath, and didn’t shoot three or four of his fin- 
 gers off. 
 
 He struck his little sister on the temple with his 
 fist when he was angry; and she didn’t linger in 
 pain through long summer days, and die with sweet 
 words of forgiveness upon her lips that redoubled 
 the anguish of his breaking heart. No; she got 
 over it. He ran off and went to sea at last, and 
 
152 
 
 THE W0BLH8 
 
 didn’t come back and find himself sad and alone in 
 the world, his loved ones sleeping in the quite 
 churchyard, and the vine-embowered home of his 
 boyhood tumbled down and gone to decay. Ah, 
 no ! he came home drunk as a piper, and got into' 
 the station-house the first thing. 
 
 And he grew up, and married, and raised a large 
 family, and brained them all with an axe one night, 
 and got wealthy by all manner of cheating and ras- 
 cality; and now he is the infernalest, wickedest 
 scoundrel in his native village, and is universally 
 respected, and belongs to the legislature. 
 
 So you see there never was a bad James in the 
 Sunday school books that had such a streak of luck 
 as this sinful Jim with the charmed hfe. 
 
 I^AF^TINGTON’S ©I^IP. 
 
 “I think,” said Mrs. Partington, getting up from 
 the breakfast-table, will take a tower, or go upon 
 a disciirsion. The bill says, if I collect rightl}^, that 
 a party is to go to a very plural spot, and to mis- 
 take of a cold collection. . I hope it won’t be so 
 cold as ours was for the poor last Sunday; why, 
 there wasn’t efficient to buy a feet of wood for a 
 restitute widder.” And the old lady put on her 
 calash. 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 153 
 
 P r^EAip I^EPLY. 
 
 An Irish officer in the French service solicited 
 the king for some favor for a friend. The monarch, 
 being in an angry mood, exclaimed, ‘T find you 
 Irishmen very troublesome.” 
 
 “Your enemies, sire, make the same remark,” 
 replied the officer, which so pleased the king that 
 the favor requested was granted at once. 
 
 (?osH Billings’ ^Idyige ipo a Hew @hoii^- 
 
 SlNGEF^. 
 
 Dear Miss : This is an important epock into 
 your life. The first thing to make a good quire 
 singer is to giggle a little. 
 
 Put your hair in cirl papers every Friday nite 
 soze to have it in good shape Sunday morning. If 
 your daddy is rich you can buy some store hair. 
 If he is very rich buy some more and build it up 
 high onto your head ; then get a high-priced bunnit 
 that runs up very high at the high part of it, and 
 get the milliner to plant some high-grown artificials 
 onto the highest part of it. This will help you sing 
 high, as soprano is the highest part. 
 
 When the tune is giv out, don’t pay attention to 
 it^ and then giggle. Gdggle a good eel. 
 
 Whisper to the girl next you that Em Jones, 
 which sets on the 2d seet from the front on the 
 
154 
 
 THE ^YOBLHS 
 
 left-hand side, has lier bimnit ^Yith the same color 
 exact she had last year, and then put your hook to 
 your face and giggle. 
 
 Object to every tim^iJIe^s there is a solow into 
 it for the soprano.,. , Coff and hem ^ good eel before 
 you begin to sing. 
 
 When you sing a solow shake the artificials ofl 
 your bunnit, and when you come to a high tone 
 brace yourself back a little, twist your head to one 
 side, and open your mouth the widest on that side, 
 shet the e3^es on the same side just a triphle, and 
 then put in for dear life. 
 
 When the preacher gets under bed wa}^ with his 
 preachin, write a note on the blank leaf into the 
 fourth part of ^mur note hook. That’s what the 
 blank leaf was made for. Git sumhody to pass the 
 note to sumhody else, and you watch them while 
 they read it, and then giggle. 
 
 If an^Tody talks or laffs in the congregashun, 
 and the preacher takes notis of it, that’s a goot 
 chants for 3^011 to giggle, and you ought to giggle 
 a great eel. The preacher darsent say an3Thing to 
 3mu bekaus 3^11 are in the quire, and he can’t run 
 the meetin’ house at both ends without the quire. 
 If 3^11 had a bow before 3^011 went into the quire, 
 give him the mitten, — 3^11 ought to have somehod3’ 
 better now. 
 
 Don’t forget to giggle. 
 
uBiunr 
 
 .. , TNE 
 B.'’/rr’£:;Tir cp itupon? 
 
THE MEDDLESOME DUCKS. 
 
 P- 155- 
 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 155 
 
 ©HE fflEDDLBSOMB DUGI^S. 
 
 “Mike, why don’t you fire at those ducks? Don’t 
 you see you have got the whole flock before your 
 gun?” 
 
 “Sure, I know I have; but, Avhin I get good aim 
 at wan, two or thra others will swim roight be- 
 twixt it an’ me.” 
 
 SUGGBSS Small 
 
 BUKDETTE. 
 
 Formerly the blackberry was regarded as merely 
 a bramble in this country. It is. still quite gener- 
 ally so regarded. When a man gets to thinking it 
 is not a bramble, all he has to do is to go waltzing 
 around in a healthy patch, with nothing on him 
 but a cotton shirt and a pair of tow trousers, and he 
 will come out restored to the faith of his fathers. 
 The greatest enemy the blackberry has is boys. Five 
 boys, from town, can eat more green blackberries 
 in a day than would ripen in a week. For many 
 years the great desideratum has been a hardy berry 
 that could resist the premature onslaught of boys 
 from the town. It is a great desideratum still. 
 The Schneider, a variety that was invented by an 
 Iowa horticulturist, is the nearest approach to it. 
 It is a bred from a perfectly green persimmon, 
 
156 
 
 THE WORLDS S 
 
 crossed with a dog-wood tree, and still further prop- 
 agated with a hybrid of wormwood-bush and crab- 
 apple. It is not a perfect defense, but there are 
 very few boys who care to eat more than a quart of 
 them. Nobody else, however, can go past the field 
 where the Schneider is growing, without being at- 
 tacked with Asiatic cholera, and this tends to 
 weaken the partial success this hardy berry has 
 achieved. Then there is a bug — I do not know 
 the name of it — that crawls over the berries now 
 and then. When you eat a berry that has been 
 glorified by a visit from this bug, you lie down in 
 the briers and pray Heaven to take you home in 
 just about three seconds. And, if you five, you 
 can wake up in the night, along in the middle of 
 the next winter, and shudder as you taste of that 
 berry. 
 
 When your blackberries grow too thickly, you 
 will want to thin them out. To this end you must 
 kill some of them. This can be done by digging a 
 well where the plant stands, then turn the farm 
 upside down and let it dry out thoroughly for a 
 couple of years, and then turn it over, upside down, 
 and start a brick-yard on the back of it. This wiU 
 kill off some of the plants. There may be some 
 shorter and cheaper method of killing blackberry 
 bushes than this, but I never heard of it, and it 
 isn’t likely that there is any. 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 157 
 
 If you want to devote about forty acres of ground 
 to the cultivation of blackberries, plant about three 
 healthy vines in some corner of the field, about the 
 1st of April. Then, about the 1st of May, the man 
 who owns the farm on the other side of the road 
 will bring civil action against you, and try to collect 
 damages for destruction of his two fields of wheat 
 by a raid of blackberry vines. 
 
 It is not known just at what season of the year 
 blackberries ripen. The blackberry has never been 
 known to ripen. If the hucksters and boys should 
 all die in June, it is probable that the berries would 
 ripen some time in July or August. But they have 
 never had a chance to see what- they could do at 
 ripening. 
 
 The blackberry is so named because it is blue, in 
 order to distinguish it from the blueberry, which is 
 black . — Burlington Hatvheye. 
 
 ©WAIN ON JPHE flNT. 
 
 In his ‘‘Tramp Abroad,” Mark says; “Now and 
 then, while we rested, we watched the laborious 
 ant at his work. I found nothing new in him — 
 certainly nothing to change my opinion of him. It 
 seems to be that in the matter of intellect the ant 
 must be a strangely overrated bird. During many 
 summers now I have watched him, when I ought 
 
158 
 
 THE W0RLH8 
 
 to have been in better business, and I have not yet 
 come across a living ant that seemed to have any 
 more sense than a dead one. I refer to the ordi- 
 nary ant, of course; I have bad no experience of 
 those wonderful Swiss and African ones which vote, 
 keep drilled armies, hold slaves, and dispute about 
 religion. Those particular ants may he all that the 
 naturalists paint them, but I am persuaded that 
 the average ant is a sham. I admit his industry, 
 of course; he is the hardest- working creature in 
 the world — when anybody is looking — but his 
 leather-headeduess is the point I make against him. 
 He goes out foraging, he makes a capture, and then 
 what does he do? Go home? No, he goes any- 
 where hut home. He doesn’t knowAvhere home is. 
 His home may be only three feet away ; no matter, 
 he can’t find it. 
 
 “He makes his capture, as I have said; it is gen- 
 erally something that can be of no sort of use to 
 himself or anybody else ; it is usually seven times 
 bigger than it ought to be; he hunts out the awk- 
 wardest place to take hold of ; he lifts it bodily up 
 in the air by main force, and starts — not toward 
 home, but in the opposite direction; not calmly 
 and wisely, but with a frantic haste which is waste- 
 ful of his strength; he fetches up against a pebble, 
 and, instead of going around it, he climbs over it 
 backwards, dragging his booty after him, tumbles 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 159 
 
 down the other side, jumps up in a passion, kicks 
 the dust off his clothes, moistens his hands, grabs 
 his property viciously, yanks it this way, then that, 
 shoves it ahead of him a moment, turns tail and 
 lugs it after him another moment, gets madder and 
 madder, then presently hoists it into the air and 
 goes tearing away in an entirely new direction: 
 comes to a weed; it never occurs to him to go 
 around it. No; he must climb it, and he does 
 climb it, dragging his worthless property to the top 
 — which is as bright a thing to do as it would be 
 for me to carry a sack of flour from Heildelberg to 
 Paris by way of Strasburg steeple ; when he gets 
 up there he finds that that is not the place ; takes 
 a cursory glance at the scenery, and either climbs 
 down again or tumbles down, and starts off once 
 more — as usual, in a new direction. 
 
 “At the end of half an hour he fetches up within 
 six inches of the place he started from, and lays his 
 burden down. Meantime he has been over all the 
 ground for two yards round, and climbed all the 
 weeds and pebbles he came across. Now he wipes 
 the sweat from his brow, strokes his limbs, and 
 then marches aimlessly off, in as violent a hurry 
 as ever.” 
 
 / 
 
160 
 
 TEE ^YORLD^S 
 
 Bi^o. Gai^dnei^’s Lcimei^iln Glub. 
 
 “Las nite, soon arter de bells struck ’leben,” be- 
 gan the old man as the meeting opened, “some 
 pusson to me unknown hurled a ten-poun’ rock 
 agin my front doah. By de time I could get outer 
 bed an’ git my collar an’ neck-tie on de said pusson 
 had made his escape. I has libed in dis town risin’ 
 of nineteen y’ars, an’ dis am de fust time I war 
 eber disturbed. It shows dat sounthin’ said heah 
 agin some of de bad habits which some of our cullud 
 folkses has fallen into has hit de mark an’ gone 
 home. I shall, howsumbeber, keep right on talkin’ 
 to de bes’ ob my ability, and would furder add dat 
 if I cotch any low-down man in de act of bangin’ 
 my house wid a rock, I shall, for de space of de 
 succeedin’- seben minnits, forgit dat I eber jined de 
 church or rung de bell for de Thursday ebenin’ 
 prayer-meetin’. I menshun dis circumstance simply 
 bekase dar was a report on de streets yesterday dat 
 a murderer had broken inter my cabin an’ killed 
 de' ole woman an’ crippled me for life. We will 
 now purceed wid de straightaiged order of busi- 
 ness.” 
 
 The Committee on Agriculture submitted the 
 following well- written report : ' 
 
 Whak’as, Great big red-cored watermellyons 
 from de Stait of Alabama hev made dar ’pearance 
 in market; an’. 
 
BRO. GARDNER. 
 
 P. 160. 
 

 li. ’Tyrr- 
 
 Of TS'£ 
 
 • ‘ Cf 
 
 V. 
 
 ■d 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 161 
 
 Whar’as, De openin’ of de mellyon seznn am an 
 occashnn fur gineral rejoicin’ ’mong de cnllud pop- 
 nlashnn; now, darforte, 
 
 Resolved^ Dat dis Club does hereby rejoice an’ 
 sonn’ de loud cimball in honor of de event. 
 
 The report and resolution were accepted, and the 
 janitor was instructed to see that the next meeting 
 was supplied with at least ten large and well de- 
 veloped specimens of the watermelon tribe. 
 
 A communication from the office of the Secretary 
 of the State of Indiana, signed “per Smith,” in- 
 quired if the Limekiln Club was in harmony with 
 an Indianapolis organization known as “The Dusky 
 Knights of Honor.” The said Association had been 
 getting trusted for crackers and herrings on the 
 strength of being a branch lodge of the Detroit 
 Club. 
 
 The Secretary was instructed to repudiate the 
 organization, tooth and nail, and to forward a postal 
 card to every Limekilner in Indiana, warning him 
 to beware of it. 
 
 Some time since the relations between pastor 
 and congregation in a certain colored church in 
 Michigan became so inharmonious that it became 
 necessary to bounce one party or the other. At a 
 church meeting the preacher was called a liar, and 
 in return he upset a deacon with a blow on the 
 
 11 
 
162 
 
 THE WORTH 8 
 
 jaw. It was decided to submit the case to Brother 
 Gardner in the following form : 
 
 “ ’Sposen you was a preacher of de gospel, an’ 
 de leadin’ elder of your church called you a liar?” 
 Would you hit him or forgib him?” 
 
 “If dey wants my opinyun on dat case it can 
 soon be gibben,” said the old man as he rose up. 
 “It I war a preacher of de gospel an’ de leadin’ 
 elder, or any odder elder, called me a liah, an’ he 
 war in dead airnest, I’d light down on him like an 
 elefant rollin’ ober a lamb! Yes I would, an’ den 
 I’d ax him if he had any friends who wanted to see 
 me wid my coat off an’ my muscle worked up. I 
 doan go a cent on de man who gets such a fill of 
 religion dat folks can make a foot-ball of him.” 
 
 George Washington Harmony, of Kichmond, 
 Va., forwarded a communication to the effect that 
 he was the inventor of a patent whitewash brush 
 wdiich worked by means of a crank and hopper, and 
 in case his expenses were paid to Detroit and back 
 he would deliver three lectures on the patent, and 
 present one to the Club. He further inquired if 
 the membership tickets used by the Club would 
 admit the bearer into a circus. 
 
 The Secretary was instructed to write for a cut 
 of the invention, and to reply to the last inquiry 
 that an arrangement had been proposed by Barnum, 
 but the contract had not yet been signed. It may 
 
WIT AND WITS, 
 
 163 
 
 be stated here that the tattoed man is an honorary 
 member of the Club, and that Mr. Barnum has 
 promised to present it with a stuffed giraffe at the 
 earliest possible day. 
 
 A favorable opportunity having presented itself, 
 the Glee Club wrestled with the following, which 
 Giveadam Jones composed several weeks since, 
 and which he wanted sung as an experiment : 
 
 Experience has amply proved. 
 
 And the fiat of the Medical 
 Faculty authenticates the 
 Statement, that quinine is 
 
 The most reliable specific 
 For malarial fevers and a 
 Tonic and nervine of singular 
 Efficiency. In its usual 
 
 Form the bitterness of the fla- 
 vor constitutes an objection 
 To it with — ” 
 
 At this point the President’s gavel came down 
 with such a bang that the musician who was play- 
 ing the fastest and singing the loudest was nearly 
 upset. Inquiries were made as to the author of the 
 poem, and Mr. Jones was walked to the front and 
 asked to explain. A few words convinced him that 
 
164 
 
 THE \yORLHS 
 
 his experiment was a failure, and lie was warned 
 that any further public efforts on his part to add to 
 the harmony of tlie proceedings by song-writing 
 would give him a seat on the hack benches. 
 
 The Committee on Internal Improvements here 
 announced their readiness to make a special report. 
 Some days since Brother Samuel Shin, one of the 
 charter members of the club, was charged with 
 drunkenness, and the committee was instructed to 
 investigate and bring their findings before the 
 lodge. The report was as follows : 
 
 “De charge was dat on a certain day an’ date 
 Brudder Shin was noticed to fall down five times 
 while- gwine from a certain butcher-shop to his 
 house, a distance of two blocks. Fo’ white men 
 an’ a boy testified to dis lack befo’ dis committee. 
 Brudder Shin came befo’ dis committee wid de 
 statement dat when de wind am in de east and de 
 air full o’ ’lectricity he am subject to blindness, as 
 was de case dat day. His statement am s 'ported 
 by his wife an’ dorter, who hev eben known him to 
 fall down on de doah-step at midnight. Dis com- 
 mittee, takin’ all fings inter considerashun, hez 
 arrove at de conclushun dat Brudder Shin hez 
 cl’ared hisself of de charge of drunkenness, an’ do 
 so report.” 
 
 There was deep silence for half a minute, and 
 then Brother Gardner quietly observed : 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 165 
 
 “Brudder Shin, you hev bin investigated an' 
 cl’ared of de charge, but in de fucher I want you 
 to keep your eye on de wedder- vanes aimin’ town, 
 an’ when you see de wind shiftin’ do you make 
 tracks fur hum. We will now dissolve . — Detroit 
 Free Press. 
 
 ©WAIN’S I^EMAI^I(ABLB GOLD ffliNES. 
 
 I have just seen your dispatch from San Fran- 
 cisco in Saturday’s Evening Post about gold in 
 solution in Calistoga Springs, and about the pro- 
 prietor having extracted $1,600 in gold of the 
 utmost fineness from ten barrels of water, during 
 the past fortnight, by a process known only to him- 
 self. 
 
 This will surprise many of your readers, but it 
 does not surprised me, for I once owned these 
 springs myself. What does surprise me, however, 
 is the tailing off in richness of the water. In my 
 time, the yield was a dollar a dipperful. I am not 
 saying this to injure the property in case a sale is 
 contemplated. I am saying it in the interest of 
 history. It may be that this hotel proprietor’s pro- 
 cess may be an inferior one. Yes, that may be the 
 fault. Mine was to take my uncle (I had an extra 
 at that time, on account of his parents dying and 
 leaving him on my hands) and fill him up and let 
 
166 
 
 THE VrORLD'^S 
 
 him stand fifteen minutes, to give the water a 
 chance to settle. Well, then I insert him in an 
 exhausted receiver, which had the effect of sucking 
 gold out through his pores. I have taken more 
 than $11,000 out of that old man in a day and a 
 half. 
 
 I should have held on to those springs but for the 
 badness of the roads and the difficulty of getting 
 the gold to market. I consider that the gold-yield- 
 ing water is in many repects remarkable, and yet 
 no more remarkable than the gold-bearing air of 
 Catgut Canon, up there toward the head of the 
 auriferous range. This air or this wind, for it is a 
 kind of trade wind which blows steadily down 
 through 600 miles of the richest quartz croppings 
 during an hour and a quarter every day, except 
 Sundays, is heavily charged with exquisitely fine, 
 impalpable gold. 
 
 Nothing precipitates and solidifies this gold so 
 readily as contact with human flesh heated by pas- 
 sion. The time that William x\brahams was dis- 
 appointed in love he used to step out doors when 
 that wind was blowing, and come in again and 
 begin to sigh, and I would extract over a dollar 
 and a half out of every sigh. He sighed right 
 along, and the time that John Harbison and Aleck 
 Norton quarreled about Harbison ’s dog they stood 
 there swearing at each other ; and they knew how, 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 167 
 
 and what they did not know about swearing they 
 couldn’t learn from you and me, not by a good 
 deal, and at the end of every three or four minutes 
 they had to stop and make a dividend. If they 
 didn’t their jaws would clog up so that they couldn’t 
 get big nine- syllabled ones out at all, and when the 
 wind was done blowing they cleared up just a little 
 over $1,600 apiece. I know these facts to be ab- 
 solutely true, because I got them from a man whose 
 mother I knew personally. 
 
 I did not suppose a person could buy the water- 
 privilege at Calistoga now at any price, but several 
 good locations along the course of the Catgut 
 Canon gold-bearing trade-wind are for sale. They 
 are going to be stocked for the New York market. 
 They will sell, too ; people will swarm for them as 
 thick as Hancock veterans in the South. 
 
 Makk Twain. 
 
 Faithless Sally Bi^own. 
 
 Young Ben he was nice young man, a carpentei’ 
 by trade; and he fell in love with Sally Brown, 
 that was a lady’s maid. But as they fetched a 
 walk one day, they met a press-gang crew; and 
 Sally she did faint away, while Ben he was brought 
 to. 
 
 The boatswain swore with wicked words enough 
 
168 
 
 THE WOBLD'^S 
 
 to shock a saint, that though she did seem in a fit, 
 ’twas nothing but a feint. 
 
 “Come, girl,” said he, “hold up your head — he’ll 
 be as good as me ; for when your swain is in our 
 boat, a boatswain he will be.” 
 
 So when they’d made their game of her, and 
 taken off her elf, she roused, and found she only 
 was a-coming to herself. 
 
 “And is he gone, and is he gone?” she cried and 
 wept outright; “then I will to the water- side and 
 see him out of sight.” 
 
 A waterman came up to her: ‘‘Now, young 
 woman,” said he, “if you weep on so, you will make 
 eye-water in the sea.” 
 
 “Alas! they’ve taken my beau,, Ben, to sail with 
 old Benbow;” and her woe began to run afresh, as 
 if she’d said “Gee woe!” 
 
 Says he, “They’ve only taken him to the tender 
 ship, you see.” “The tender ship!” cried Sally 
 Brown — “what a hardship that must be! Oh! 
 would I were a mermaid now, for then I’d follow 
 him; but oh! I’m not a fish-woman, and so I can- 
 not swim. Alas! I was not born beneath the Vir- 
 gin and the Scales, so I must curse my cruel stars 
 and walk about in Wales.” 
 
 Now Ben had sailed to many a place that’s 
 underneath the world ; but in two years the ship 
 came home, and all her sails were furled. But 
 
"BUT OH, i’m not a FISH-WOMAN ! 
 
 P. l68. 
 
U. '”/rr 
 
 /' 
 
 f 
 
 
 ■<r<^ 
 
 
 
wrr AND WITS, 
 
 169 
 
 when he called on Sally Brown, to see how she got 
 on, he found she’d got another Ben, whose Christ- 
 ian name was John. “Oh, Sally Brown! oh, Sally 
 Brown! how could you serve me so? I’ve met 
 with many a breeze before, but never such a blow!” 
 
 Then reading on his ’bacco box, he heaved a 
 heavy sigh; and then began to eye his pipe, and 
 then to pipe his eye. And then he tried to sing 
 “All’s well;” but could not, though he tried; his 
 head was turned — and so he chewed his pigtail till 
 he died. His death, which happened in his berth, 
 at forty odd befell; they went and told the sexton, 
 and the sexton tolled the bell . — Thomas Hood, 
 
 Going on an ^xgui^sion. 
 
 They had been preparing for the excursion for 
 about two weeks. The day at last dawned, and as 
 the boat was to start early, the young wife deter- 
 mined to be on hand. The clock struck 8, and 
 still she was in the kitchen, her hair down her back, 
 packing edibles in her basket. 
 
 “Hurry up!” said John, her young husband. 
 
 “I’ll be ready presently,” and away she darted to 
 blacken her shoes and put on a clean collar. Then 
 she stuck her head out of the back window, to ask 
 her next door neighbor to lend her a breastpin. 
 
 “Hurry up, John,” said she. “You bring the 
 basket. N ow I’m all ready and am going down to the 
 
170 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 boat. And, say, John, don’t forget a box of sar- 
 dines you’ll find in the closet, and bring the pickles 
 and tongue, and be sure and bring a big knife. Do 
 you hear me, John?” 
 
 John reeled into the kitchen and began his work. 
 
 ^ He was interrupted by his wife’s voice from below, 
 yelling : 
 
 ‘‘John, there’s a can of strawberries in the ice- 
 box; don’t forget them. Now hurry — we’ll be 
 fearful late ; and say, bring one or two more hand- 
 kerchiefs and a sun-umbrella — or, I dont know, it 
 looks like rain, bring my water-proof. 0 ! you old 
 poke! you’re going to stay there all day. Now run 
 back and close those back shutters, and put the cat 
 in the kitchen, and leave a pan of milk for her; and 
 say, just stop around to the butcher’s and tell him 
 we won’t need any meat to-day; and leave the key 
 of the cellar under the parlor-door mat. Now 
 hurry, John. I’m off. And don’t forget anything 
 or rU go wild!” 
 
 He didn’t forget anything; but when he reached 
 the wharf he found the boat had been gone two 
 hours. 
 
 ©WAIN ON Blub (Jays. 
 
 Mr. Mark Twain’s two volumes of European 
 travel, entitled “The Tramp Abroad,” contain his 
 
WIT AND WITS, 
 
 171 
 
 estimate of the blue jay. With his well-know 
 proclivity for modesty the author presents this 
 estimate in the words of a certain “Jim” Baker, a 
 California miner : “There’s more to a blue jay than 
 any other creature. He has got more moods and 
 more different kinds of feeling than any other 
 creature; and mind you, whatever a blue jay feels 
 he can put into language. And no mere common- 
 place language, either, but rattling, out-and-out 
 book talk — and bristling with metaphor, too — just 
 bristling ! And as for command of language — why, 
 you never see a blue jay get stuck for a word. No 
 man ever did. They just boil out of him. And 
 another thing, I’ve noticed a good deal, and there’s 
 no bird, or cow, or anything that uses as good 
 grammar as a blue jay. You may say a cat uses 
 good grammar. Well, a cat does — but you let a 
 cat get excited once ; you let a cat get to pulling 
 fur with another cat on a shed, nights, and you’ll 
 hear grammar that will give you the lockjaw. 
 Ignorant people think it’s the noise which fighting 
 cats make that is so aggravating, hut it ain’t so, it’s 
 the sickening grammar they use. Now, I’ve never 
 heard a jay use bad grammar but very seldom; and 
 when they do, they are as ashamed as a human; 
 they shut right down and leave. 
 
 “You may call a jay a bird. Well, so he is, in a 
 m.easure — because he’s got feathers on him, and 
 
172 
 
 THE WORLD'^S 
 
 don’t belong to no church, perhaps; but otherwise 
 he is just as much a human as you be. And I’ll 
 tell you for why. A jay’s gifts and instincts and 
 feelings and interests cover the whole ground. A 
 jay hasn’t got any more principle than a Congress- 
 man. A jay will he, a jay will steal, a jay will de- 
 ceive, a jay will betray; and four times out of five 
 a jay will go back on his solemnist promise. The 
 sacredness of an obligation is a thing which you 
 can’t cram into no blue jay’s head. Now^, on top 
 of all this, there’s another thing; a jay can outswear 
 any gentleman in the mines. You think a cat can 
 swear. Well, a cat can; but you give a blue jay a 
 subject that calls for his reserve powers, and where 
 is your cat? Don’t talk to me — I know too much 
 about this thing. And there’s yet another thing; 
 in the one little particular of scolding — just good, 
 clean out-and-out scolding — a blue jay can overlay 
 anything, human or divine. Yes, sir, a jay is every- 
 thing that a man is. A jay can cry, a jay can 
 laugh, a jay can feel shame, a jay can reason and 
 plan and discuss, a jay likes gossip and scandal, a 
 jay has got a sense of humor, a jay knows when he 
 is an ass just as well as you do — maybe better. If 
 a jay ain’t human, he’d better take in his sign, 
 that’s all.” 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 173 
 
 BAtSHEltOI^S AND 
 
 JOSH BILLINGS. 
 
 SoAje oid bachelors git after a fiirt, and don’t 
 travel as fast as she doz, and then concludes awl 
 the female group are hard to ketch, and good for 
 nothing when they are ketched. 
 
 A flirt is a rough thing to overhaul unless the 
 right dog gets after her, and then they make the 
 very best of wives. 
 
 When a flirt really is in love she is as powerless 
 as a mown daisy. 
 
 Her impudence then changes into modesty, her 
 cunning into fears, her spurs into a halter, and her 
 pruning-hook into a cradle. 
 
 The best way to ketch a flirt is tew travel the 
 other way from which they are going, or sit down 
 on the ground and whistle some lively tune till the 
 flirt comes round. 
 
 Old bachelors make the flirts, and then the flirts 
 get more than even, by making the old bachelors. 
 
 A majority of flirts get married finally, for they 
 hev a great quantity of the most dainty tidbits of 
 woman’s nature, and alwus have shrewdness to 
 back up their sweetness. 
 
 Flirts don’t deal in po’try and water grewel : they 
 have got to hev brains, or else somebody would 
 
174 
 
 THE WORLHS 
 
 trade them out of their capital at the first sweep. 
 
 Disappointed luv must uv course be all on one 
 side; this ain’t any more excuse fur being an old 
 bachelor than it iz fur a man to quit all kinds of 
 manual labor, jist out uv spite, and jine a poor- 
 house hekase he kant lift a tun at one pop. 
 
 An old bachelor will brag about his freedom to 
 you, his relief from anxiety, biz indipendence. 
 This iz a dead beat, past resurrection, for every- 
 body knows there ain’t a more anxious dupe than 
 he iz. All his dreams are charcoal sketches of 
 boarding-school misses; he dresses, greases biz 
 hair, paints hiz grizzly mustache, cultivates bun- 
 yons and corns, to please his captains, the wimmen, 
 and only gets laffed at fur hiz pains. 
 
 I tried being an old bachelor till I wuz about 
 twenty years old, and came very near dieing a 
 dozen times. I had more sharp pain in one year 
 than I hev had since, put it all in a heap. I was 
 in a lively fever all the time. 
 
 f)ow TO Spell Isaac. 
 
 Mr. Isaac Staples, of Stillwater, Minn., is a lum- 
 ber dealer who has had an extensive correspondence. 
 His bookkeeper has made a memorandum of the 
 fact every time the given name of Mr. Staples has 
 been misspelled in a letter addressed to him. The 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 175 
 
 correspondence has already yielded the following 
 fifty erroneous spellings, which will be read with 
 delight by the spelling reformers : 
 
 Isiac, 
 
 Isic, 
 
 Iceic, 
 
 Isick, 
 
 Icaac, 
 
 lisac, 
 
 Isiaac, 
 
 Isaas, 
 
 Issacc, 
 
 Icaace, 
 
 Icaack, 
 
 Isaacce, 
 
 Isica, 
 
 Isaace, 
 
 I Sick, 
 
 Iseac, 
 
 Icaas, 
 
 laac. 
 
 Iseke, 
 
 Isich, 
 
 Isac, 
 
 Icks, 
 
 lassac. 
 
 Issick, 
 
 Jsaac, 
 
 Isaag, 
 
 laasic. 
 
 Izk, 
 
 Isaak, 
 
 Issac, 
 
 Izic, 
 
 Aisec, 
 
 I Sic, 
 
 lisace, 
 
 Isace, 
 
 Isiace, 
 
 Isaar, 
 
 Issach, 
 
 Isic, 
 
 Isoac, 
 
 Icac, 
 
 laasac. 
 
 Isaack, 
 
 Isak, 
 
 Isice, 
 
 Isach, 
 
 Isaach 
 
 Isac, 
 
 Isaack, 
 
 Isaic. 
 
 BBATING a (©ONDUGJPOI^. 
 
 A Michigan Central passenger going West from 
 Detroit by rail, the other day, had a pass to 
 Chicago. When the conductor took it up he asked 
 several questions to satisfy himself that the pass 
 had not been transferred, and the holder of the 
 pasteboard didn’t take it as good naturedly as some 
 men would. He didn’t have much to say, but he 
 was determined on revenge. As soon as the con- 
 ductor left the car, the man changed seats, removed 
 his linen duster, took off his hat, and looked like a 
 different person altogether. After the train left 
 the next station the conductor came along with an 
 
It6 THE WOELD^S 
 
 eye out for new passengers, and presently reached 
 out for the holder of the pass. 
 
 “I haven’t got any ticket,” was the surly answer. 
 
 “Then you must pay you fare.” 
 
 “I won’t do it.” 
 
 “See here,” said the conductor, as he began to 
 wake up, “you must either pay your fare or produce 
 a ticket. If not. I’ll drop you on the road.” 
 
 “Drop and be hanged!” 
 
 The train was not stopped, but after a run of ten 
 minutes it reached a station, and arrangements 
 were made for bouncing the man. When all was 
 complete he showed his pass. 
 
 “Why didn’t you tell me you had a pass?” roared 
 the conductor. 
 
 “Why didn’t you ask me?” shouted the traveler, 
 
 “Well, I don’t like such fooling.” 
 
 “Nor I, either.” 
 
 The train went on, and the man put on his 
 duster, traded hats with, a passenger, and again 
 looked like some one else. He changed his seat to 
 the front end of the car, and was seemingly sound 
 asleep when the conductor again had occasion to 
 pass through. He took two fares, and then held 
 out his hand to the traveler. There was no re- 
 sponse. He shook the sleeper gently, but the latter 
 slept on. Then he shook him good and stout, and 
 called “ticket” in his ear. 
 
wrr AND WITS. 177 
 
 “How dare yon shake me around in this manner?” 
 shouted the man as he awoke and stood up. 
 
 “Ticket, please.” 
 
 “But I don’t please ! How dare you come to me 
 every time the train leaves a station?” 
 
 The conductor looked down the aisle, thought he 
 saw the man with the pass in his old seat, and said 
 to the other : 
 
 “Come, sir, don’t bother me. I want your 
 ticket.” 
 
 “You can’t have it!” 
 
 “Then I’ll put you oh!” 
 
 He reached for the bell-rope, but seeing a gen- 
 eral grin all around the car he stopped and looked 
 more closely at the man, and recognized him as the 
 one with the pass. He went out without a word, 
 and when he returned, half an hour later, he ex- 
 pected another trap. He looked carefully over the 
 car, and was going slowly along in search of new 
 faces, when a man with his coat off, and under the 
 influence of liquor called out : 
 
 “Shay, Captain, I hain’t got any ticket!” 
 
 “Ah, you can’t beat me again — knew you as soon 
 as I entered the car?” chuckled the ofhcial, and he 
 walked on with a broad grin on his face. 
 
 It was not until he saw the shirt- sleeved man 
 get off at the next station that he knew he had 
 
 12 
 
178 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 been mistaken again, and bad let him travel for 
 nothing, while the man with the pass was in the 
 smoking-car . — Detroit Free Press. 
 
 ©WAIN’S UlSIT TO r^IAGAI^A. 
 
 HIS STAETLING DISCLOSUEES HE IS PITCHED OVEE THE 
 
 CATAEACT BY THE INDIANS. 
 
 Niagara Falls is one of the finest structures in 
 the known world. I have beenAdsiting this favorite 
 watering-place recently, for the first time, and was 
 well pleased. A gentleman who was with me said 
 it was customary to be disappointed in the Falls, 
 but that subsequent visits were sure to set that all 
 right. He said that the first time he went, the 
 hack fares were so much higher than the falls, that 
 the falls appeared insignificant. But that is all 
 regulated now. The hackmen have been tamed, 
 numbered, placarded and blackguarded, and brought 
 into subjection of the law, and dosed with moral 
 principle till they are as meek as missionaries. 
 There are no more outrages and extortions. That 
 sort of thing cured itself. It made the falls un- 
 popular by getting into the newspapers ; and, when- 
 ever a public evil achieves that sort of success for 
 itself, its days are numbered. It becaine apparent 
 that either the falls had to be discontinued, or the 
 hackman had to subside. They could not dam the 
 
^YIT AND WIT 8, 
 
 179 
 
 falls, and so they did the hackman. One can he 
 comfortable and happy there now. 
 
 I drank np most of the American Fall before I 
 learned that the waters were not considered medi- 
 cal. Why are people left in ignorance that way? 
 I might have gone on and ruined a fine property, 
 merely for the want of a little trifling information. 
 And yet the sources of information at Niagara 
 Falls are not meagre. You are sometimes in doubt 
 there about what you ought to do, but you are 
 seldom in doubt about what you must not do. No, 
 the signs keep you posted. If an infant can read, 
 that infant is measurably safe at Niagara Falls. In 
 your room at the hotel you will find your course 
 marked out for you in the most convenient way, by 
 means of placards on the wall like these : 
 
 “Pull the bell-rope gently, but don’t jerk.” 
 
 “Bolt your door.” 
 
 “Don’t scrape matches on the wall.” 
 
 “Turn off your gas when you retire.” 
 
 “Tie up your dog.” 
 
 “If you place your boots outside the door they 
 will be blackened, but the house wdll not be re- 
 sponsible for their return.” (This is a confusing 
 and tanglesome proposition, because it moves you 
 to deliberate long and painfully as to whether it 
 will really be any object to you to have your boots 
 blackened unless they are returned.) 
 
180 
 
 THE WORLDS S 
 
 “Give your key to the omnibus driver, if you for- 
 get and carry it off with you.” 
 
 Outside the hotel wherever you w^ander you are 
 intelligently assisted by the signs. You cannot 
 come to grief as long as you are in your right 
 mind. But the difficulty is to stay in your right 
 mind with so much instruction to keep track of. 
 For instance : 
 
 “Keep off the grass.” 
 
 “Don’t climb the trees.” 
 
 “Hands off the vegetables.” 
 
 “Do not hitch your horse to the shrubbery.” 
 
 “Visit the Cave of the Winds.” 
 
 “Have your portrait taken in your carriage.” - 
 
 “Forty per cent, in gold levied on all peanuts or 
 other Indian curiosities purchased in Canada.” 
 
 “Photographs of the falls taken here.” 
 
 “Visitors will please notify the superintendent of 
 any neglect on the part of employes to charge for 
 commodities or services.” 
 
 “Don’t throw stones down; they may hit people 
 below.” 
 
 “The proprietors will not be responsible for 
 parties who jump over the falls.” 
 
 To tell the plain truth, the multitude of signs 
 annoyed me. It was because I noticed at last that 
 they always happened to prohibit exactly the very 
 thing I was just wanting to do. I desired to roll 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 181 
 
 on the grass; the sign prohibited it. I wished to 
 climb a tree ; the sign prohibited it. I longed to 
 smoke; the sign prohibited it. And I was just in 
 the act of throwing a stone over to astonish and 
 pulverize such parties as might be picnicking below, 
 when a sign I have just mentioned forbade that. 
 Even that satisfaction was denied me (and I a 
 friendless orphan). There was no resource now 
 hut to seek consolation in the flowing bowl. I drew 
 my flask from my pocket, but it was all in vain. 
 A sign confronted me, which said. 
 
 “No drinking allowed on these premises.” 
 
 On that spot I might have perished of thirst but 
 for the saving words of an honored maxim that 
 flitted through my memory at that critical moment, 
 “All signs fail in dry time.” Common law takes 
 precedence of the statutes. I was saved. 
 
 The noble Red Man has always been a darling of 
 mine. I love to read about him in tales, legends 
 and romances ; I love to read of his inspired sa- 
 gacity ; and his love of the wild, free life of moun- 
 tain and forest; and his grand truthfulness; his 
 hatred of treachery, and his general nobility of 
 character ; and his stately metaphorical manner of 
 speech; and his chivalrous love for his dusky 
 maiden ; and the picturesque pomp of his dress and 
 accoutrement — especially the picturesque pomp of 
 his dress and accoutrement. When I found the 
 
182 
 
 TEE WOBLES 
 
 shops at Niagara Falls full of dainty Indian bead- 
 work and stunning moccasins, and equally stunning 
 toy figures representing human beings who carried 
 their weapons in holes bored through their arms and 
 bodies, and had feet shaped like a j)ie, I was filled 
 with emotion. I knew that now, at last, I was going 
 to come face to face with the noble red man. A lazy 
 clerk in the shop told me, indeed, that all her grand 
 array was made by the Indians, and that they were 
 plenty about the Falls, and that they were friendly, 
 and it Avould not be dangerous to speak to them. 
 And sure enough, as I approached the bridge lead- 
 ing over to Luna Island I came upon a noble old 
 son of the forest sitting under a tree, diligently at 
 work upon a bead reticule. He wore a slouch hat 
 and brogans and had a short black pipe in his mouth. 
 Thus does the baleful contact with our effeminate 
 civilization dilute the picturesque pomp which is so 
 natural to the Indian when far removed from us in 
 his native haunts. I addressed the relic as follow’s : 
 
 ‘Ts the Wawho- Wang- Wang of the Whack-a- 
 Whack happy? Does the great Speckled Thunder 
 sigh for the war-path, or is his heart contented with 
 dreaming of his dusky maiden, the Pride of the 
 Forest? Does the mighty sachem yearn to drink 
 the blood of his enemies, or is he satisfied to make 
 bead reticules for the papooses of the pale-face? 
 Speak, sublime relic of bygone grandeur — venerable 
 

 U.V0;: 
 
 OF ; 
 
 ■<( 1^ cf itli"' - 
 
^ IT AND WITS. 
 
 183 
 
 ruin, speak!” 
 
 The relic said : 
 
 ^‘An’ is it meself, Dinnis Hooligan, that ye’d be 
 takin’for a bloody Injin, ye drawlin’, lantern-jawed, 
 spider-legged riiffin? By the piper that played 
 before Moses, I’ll eat ye!” 
 
 I went away. 
 
 I made one more attempt to fraternize with 
 them, and only one. I came upon a camp of them 
 gathered in the shade of a great tree, making wam- 
 pum and moccasins, and addressed them in the 
 language of friendship : 
 
 “Noble Bed Men, Braves, Grand Sachems, War 
 Chiefs, Squaws, and High-you-Muck-a-Mucks, the 
 Paleface from the setting sun ^reelA* you ! You, 
 Beneficent Polecat — you, Bevourer of Mountains 
 — you, Eoaring Thundergust — ^you. Bully Boy with 
 a Glass Eye — the Paleface from beyond the great 
 waters greets you all! War and pestilence have 
 thinned your ranks and destroyed your once-proud 
 nation. Poker, and seven-up, and a vain modern 
 expense for soap, unknown to your glorious ances- 
 tors, have depleted your purses. Appropriating, in 
 your simplicity, the property of others, has gotten 
 you into trouble. Misrepresenting facts, in your 
 sinless innocence, has damaged your reputation 
 with the soulless. Trading for forty-rod whiskey, 
 to enable you to get drunk and happy and toma- 
 
184 
 
 THE ^VORLD^S 
 
 hawk your families, has played the everlasting 
 mischief with the picturesque ^^omp of your dress, 
 and here you are, in the broad light of the nine- 
 teenth century, gotten up like the rag-tag-and-bob- 
 tail of the purlieus of New York ! For shame ! Ke- 
 member your ancestors! Recall their mighty 
 deeds! Remember Uncas! — and Red Jacket! — 
 and 'Hole-in-the-Day ! — and Horace Greeley! 
 Emulate their achievements! Unfurl yourselves 
 under my banner, noble savages, illustrious gutter- 
 snipes — ” 
 
 ‘‘Down Avid him!” 
 
 “Scoop the blagard!” 
 
 “Hang him !” 
 
 “Dhrownd him!” 
 
 It Avas the quickest operation that ever was. I 
 simply saAv a sudden Hash in the air of clubs, brick- 
 bats, fists, bead baskets and moccasins — single flasli 
 and they all appeared to hit me at once, and no 
 tAvo of them in the same place. In the next instant 
 the’ entire tribe Avas upon me. They tore a! I the 
 clothes oh me, they broke my arms and legs, they 
 gaA^e me a thump that dented the top of my head 
 till it AA^ould hold coffee like a saucer; and to crown 
 their disgraceful proceedings and add insult to 
 injury they threw me over the Horseshoe Fall, and 
 I got Avet. 
 
 About ninety-nine or a hundred feet from the 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 185 
 
 top, the remains of my vest caught on a projecting 
 rock, and I was almost drowned before I could get 
 loose. I finally fell, and brought up in a world of 
 white foam at the foot of the fall, whose ceiled and 
 bubbly masses towered up several inches above my 
 head. Of course ^ got into the eddy. I sailed 
 round and round in it forty-four times — chasing a 
 chip, and gaining on it — each round trip a half a 
 mile — reaching for the same bush on the bank 
 forty-four times, and just exactly missed it every 
 time by a hair’s breadth. At last a man walked 
 down and sat down close to that bush, and put a 
 pipe in his mouth and lit a match, and followed me 
 with one eye and kept the other on the match 
 while he sheltered it in his hands from the wind. 
 Presently a puff of wind blew it out. The next 
 time I swept round him he said : 
 
 “Got a match?” 
 
 “Yes — in my other vest. Help me out, please.” 
 
 "Not for Joe.” 
 
 When I came around again, I said: 
 
 "Excuse the seemingly impertinent curiosity of 
 a drowning man, but will you please explain this 
 singular conduct of yours?” 
 
 “With pleasure. I am the Coroner. Don’t 
 hurry on my account. I can wait for you. But I 
 wish I had a match.” 
 
 I said," Take my place and I’ll go and get you one. ” 
 
186 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 He declined. This lack of confidence on his part . 
 created a coolness between us, and from that time 
 forward I avoided him. It was my idea, in case 
 anything happened to me, to so time the occurence 
 as to throw my custom into the hands of the oppo- 
 sition Coroner over on the American side. At last 
 a policeman came along and arrested me for dis- 
 turbing the peace by yelhng at people on shore for 
 help. The Judge finecJ me, ‘but I had the advan- 
 tage of him. My. money was withlmy pantaloons, 
 and my pantaloons were with the Indians. 
 
 Thus I escaped. I am now lying in a critical 
 condition. At least, I am lying, anyway — critical 
 or not critical. 
 
 I am hurt all over, but cannot tell the full extent 
 yet, because the doctor is not done taking the 
 inventory. He will make out my manifest this 
 evening. However, thus far, he thinks only six of 
 my wounds are fatal. I don’t mind the others. 
 
 I shall not be able to finish my remarks about 
 Niagara FaUs until I get better. 
 
 Fi^bngh poi^ ©blbi^y. 
 
 Bride (looking over the bill of fare)— John, what’s 
 “Patty de free grass?” 
 
 Groom — Sh! Don’t talk so loud, or people’ll 
 think we’re ignorant. It must be French for celery. 
 

 Cf 
 
 . . . , f IIV 
 
“WHERE DID I LEAVE MY SHIRT?" 
 
 P. 187. 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 187 
 
 SP00PENDYI(E’S (iOLLfAI^-BUTiHON. 
 
 STANLEY HUNTLEY. 
 
 “M;f dear,’’ said Mr. Spoopendyke, feeling up the 
 chimney, “have you seen my gold collar button?” 
 
 “I saw it the day I bought it,” answered Mrs. 
 Spoopendyke, cheerily, “and I thought it very 
 pretty. Why do you ask?” 
 
 “ ’Cause I’ve lost the measly thing,” responded 
 Mr. Spoopendyke, running the broom handle iip 
 into the cornice, and shaking it as if it were a car- 
 pet. 
 
 “You don’t suppose it is up there, do you?” asked 
 Mrs. Spoopendyke. “Where did you leave it?” 
 
 “Left it in my shirt. Where do you suppose I 
 left it? — in the hash?” and Mr. Spoopendyke tossed 
 over things in his wife’s writing desk, and looked 
 out of the window after it. 
 
 “Where did you leave your shirt?” asked Mrs. 
 Spoopendyke. 
 
 “Where did I leave my shirt? Where do you 
 suppose I left it? Where does a man generally 
 leave his shirt, Mrs. Spoopendyke? Think I left 
 it in the ferry boat? Got an idea I left it at the 
 prayer meeting, haven’t you? Well, I didn’t. I 
 left it off, Mrs. Spoopendyke, that’s where I left it. 
 I left it off. Hear me?” And Mr. Spoopendyke 
 
188 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 pulled the winter clothing out of the cedar chest 
 that hadn’t been unlocked for a month. 
 
 “Where is the shirt now?” persisted Mrs. Spoop- 
 endyke. 
 
 “Where do you suppose it is? Where do you 
 imagine it is? I’ll tell you where it is, Mrs. Spoop- 
 endyke, it's gone to Bridgeport as a witness in a 
 land su’t. hlea! Ask a man where his shirt is! 
 A^ou know I haven't been out of the room since I 
 took it oh; ’ and Mr. Spoopendyke sailed down 
 stairs and raked the fire out of the kitchen range, 
 but did not find the button. 
 
 “Maybe ^mu lost it on the way home,” suggested 
 Mrs. Spoopendyke, as her husband' came up, hot 
 and angry, and began to pull a stuffed canary to 
 pieces to see if the button had got inside. 
 
 “Oh, yes, very likely! I stood up against a tree 
 and lost it. Then I hid it behind a fence so I 
 wouldn’t see it. That’s the way it was. If I only 
 had your head, Mrs. Spoopendyke, I’d turn it loose 
 as a razor strop. I don’t know anything sharper 
 than you are;” and Mr. Spoopendyke clutched a 
 handful of dust off the top of the wardrobe. 
 
 “It must have fallen out,” mused Mrs. Spoopen- 
 dyke. 
 
 “Oh! it must eh? It must have fallen out? 
 Well, I declare, I never thought of that. My im- 
 pression was that it took a buggy and drove out, or 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 189 
 
 a ballon and hoisted out;” and Mr. Spoopendyke 
 crawled behind the bureau and commenced tearing 
 up the carpet. 
 
 “And if it fell out it must be somewhere near 
 where he left his shirt. Now, he always throws 
 his shirt on the lounge, and the button is under 
 that.” 
 
 A moment’s search soon established the infallibil- 
 ity of Mrs. Spoopendyke ’s logic. 
 
 “Oh, yes! Found it, didn’t you?” panted Mr. 
 Spoopendyke, as he bumped his head against the 
 bureau and finally climbed to a perpendicular. 
 “Perhaps you’ll fix my shirts so it won’t fall out 
 any more, and maybe you’ll have sense enough to 
 mend that lounge, now that it has caused so much 
 trouble. If you only tended to the house as I do 
 to my business, there ’d never be any difficulty about 
 losing a collar button.” 
 
 “It wasn’t my fault — ” began Mrs. Spoopendyke. 
 
 “Wasn’t,, eh? Have you found that coal bill 
 you’ve been looking for since last March?” 
 
 “Yes.” 
 
 “Have, eh? Now where did you put it? Where 
 did you find it?” 
 
 “In your overcoat pocket .” — Brooklyn Bagle. 
 
 Noah made the ark light and could not have 
 been in utter darkness during the flood. 
 
190 
 
 THE WORLDS 8 
 
 F)ow F^b’d Do Iip. 
 
 Several men Avere gathered at the door of a black- 
 smith shop on Cass Avenue, the other morning, 
 when a school-hoy, not OA^er nine years of age, came 
 along Avith tears in his eyes, and one of the group 
 asked : 
 
 “What’s the matter, boy, — fall doAvn?” 
 
 “N-no, hut I’A^e got a hard ’rithmetic lesson, and 
 and I expect to get 1-licked!” Avas the ansAver. 
 
 “Let me see ; I used to be a king-bee on fractions. ” 
 
 The man took the hook, turned to the page, and 
 read : 
 
 “Rule 1 — Find the least common multiple of the 
 denominators of the fractions tor the least common 
 denominator. Divide this least common denomi- 
 nator by each denominator, and multiply both 
 terms of the fractions by the quotient obtained by 
 each denominator.” 
 
 He read the rule aloud, and asked if any one 
 could understand it. All shook their heads and he 
 then continued : 
 
 “Well, now, I think I should go to work and dis- 
 coA^er the least uncommon agitator. I would then 
 eAmlve a parallel according to the intrinsic deviator, 
 and punctuate the thermometer.” 
 
 “So Avould I!” answered eA^ery man in chorus, 
 and one of them added: “I’ve Avorked ’em out that 
 way a thousand times!” 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 191 
 
 Not one of the men, all of whom were in busi- 
 ness, and had made money, could even understand 
 the working of the rule, much less work examples 
 by it, and yet it was expected that a nine-year-old 
 hoy should go to the blackboard and do every sum 
 off-hand . — Detroit Free Press. 
 
 ^osH Billings’ Philosophy. 
 
 GLASS BEADS. 
 
 Stretch a man out on a bed ov sikness, and hiz 
 pride, infidelity, and government coupons look like 
 a kruel mockery to him. 
 
 Thare are people who kan liv, and keep fatt on 
 hate. I would rather be a snaik. 
 
 I hear ov streams all over the kuntry whare 2 
 pound trout are plenty, hut I hav allwuss managed 
 to get to them about 10 days to late. 
 
 Sassy children git their edukashum at home, and 
 when the dog meets yu with a wagging tale at the 
 threshold, yu may be sure ov a kindly greeting at 
 the fireside. 
 
 The people that I admire the least are thoze who 
 admire themselfs the most — thare is no accounting 
 for tastes. 
 
 Thare is now and then a man who kan make a 
 cirkumstanse, but as a general thing, cirkumstanses 
 make men. 
 
192 
 
 THE WOELD'^S 
 
 The lov of applauze haz a valuable germ in it, 
 but too the yung it iz full ov treachery. 
 
 I luv men and their ways, but the happiest hours 
 T hav ever spent, hav been alone in the wilderness. 
 
 Genius is a diffikult thing to hide. I hav even 
 seen it revealed in blowing the noze, or handling a 
 tooth pik. 
 
 I thank God for one thing, that helth and poverty 
 are so often found together. 
 
 Yung man, all that yu kno, yu hav had to lern, 
 therefore don’t never laff at the ignorense ov others. 
 
 It iz a pleasant thing to kno that cunning men, 
 sooner or later, git kaught in the traps they set for 
 others. 
 
 The man who iz satisfied with the simple neces- 
 itys ov life, may think he iz happy, but he don’t 
 amount to mutch enny how. 
 
 Dangers suspekted are allwuss overrated ; a hole 
 in the ground iz often more dreaded than enny- 
 thing that kan possibly cum out ov it. 
 
 It iz sed that adversity iz the best for us, but if I 
 kan hav prosperity, I will try to git along without 
 enny adversity. 
 
 Man iz the only animal I kan think ov who kant 
 swim without learning how;,i^fakt, man haz to 
 ^ learn all he knows, even how to e®. 
 
Wit and wits. m 
 
 Spoopbndyi^b’s Rbw Bathing Suit. 
 
 STANLEY HUNTLEY. 
 
 “My dear,” observed Mr. Spoopendyke, looking 
 up from his paper, “I think I would be greatly 
 benefited this summer by sea baths. Bathing in 
 the surf is an excellent tonic, and if you will make 
 me up a suit and one for yourself, if you like, we’ll 
 go down often and take a dip in the waves.” 
 
 “The very thing,” smiled Mrs. Spoopendyke; 
 “you certainly need something to tone you up, and 
 there’s nothing like salt water. I think I’ll make 
 mine of blue flannel, and, let me see, yours ought 
 to be red, my dear.” 
 
 “I don’t think you caught the exact drift of my 
 remark,” responded Mr. Spoopendyke. “I didn’t 
 say I was going into the opera business, or that I 
 was going to hire out to my country village as a 
 conflagration. My plan was to go in swimming, 
 Mrs. Spoopendyke, to go in swimming, and not to 
 grow up with the country as a cremation furnace. 
 You can make yours of blue if you will, but you 
 don’t make mine of red, that’s all.” 
 
 '‘There’s a pretty shade of yellow flannel — ” 
 
 “Most undubitably, Mrs. Spoopendyke, but if you 
 think I am going to masquerade around Manhattan 
 beach in the capacity of a ham, you haven’t yet 
 
 13 
 
194 
 
 THE VTORLHS 
 
 seized my idea. I don't apprehend that I shall 
 benefit by the waters any more by going around 
 looking like a Santa Cruz rum barrel. 'Wdiat I 
 want is a bathing suit, and if you can’t get one up 
 without making me look like a Fulton street car, 
 I’ll go and buy something to suit me.” 
 
 “Would you want it all in one piece, or do you 
 want pants and blouse!” 
 
 “I want it easy to get in and out of. I’m not 
 particular about following the fashion. Make up 
 something neat, plain and substantial, but don’t 
 stick any fancy colors into it. I want it modest 
 and serviceable.” 
 
 Mrs. Spoopendyke made up the suit under the 
 guidance of a lady friend, whose aunt had told her 
 bow it should be constructed. It was in one piece, 
 and when completed was rather a startbng garment. 
 
 “I’ll try it on to-night,” said Mr. Spoopendyke 
 eyeing it askance when it was handed him. 
 
 Before retiring, Mr. Spoopendyke examined the 
 suit, and then began to get into it. 
 
 “Why didn’t you make some legs to it? What 
 d’ye want to make it all arms for?” he inquired, 
 strugghng around to see why it didn’t come up be- 
 hind. 
 
 “You’ve got it on sideways,” exclaimed Mrs. 
 Spoopendyke. “You’ve got one leg into the 
 sleeve.” 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 195 
 
 “I’ve got it on sideways? There ain’t any top 
 to it. Don’t you know enough to put the arms up 
 where they belong? What d’ye think I am, any- 
 how? A star-fish? Where does this leg go?” 
 
 “Eight in there. That’s the place for that leg.” 
 
 “Then where’s the leg that goes in this hole?” 
 
 “Why, the other leg.” 
 
 “The measly thing is all legs. Who’d you make 
 this thing for — me? What d’ye take me for — a 
 centipede? Who is going to get in here with me? 
 I want somebody else. I ain’t twins. I can’t fill 
 this business up. What d’ye call it, any way, a 
 family machine?” 
 
 “Those other places ain’t legs. They’re sleeves.” 
 
 “What are they doing down there? Why ain’t 
 they up there where they belong? What are they 
 there for — snow shoes? S’pose I’m going to stand 
 on my head to get my arms in those holes?” 
 
 “I don’t think you’ve got it on right,” suggested 
 Mrs. Spoopendyke. “It looks twisted.” 
 
 “That’s the way you told me. You said, ‘Put 
 this leg here and that one there,’ and there they 
 are. Now where does the rest of me go?” 
 
 “I made it according to the pattern,” sighed 
 Mrs. Spoopendyke. 
 
 “Then it’s all right and it’s me that’s twisted,” 
 sneered Mr. Spoopendyke. “I’ll have my arms and 
 legs altered. All I want is to havemy legs jammed 
 
196 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 in the small of my back and get my arms stuck in 
 my hips; then it’ll fit. What did you take for a 
 pattern, a crab? Where’d you find the lobster you 
 made this from? S’pose I’m going into the water 
 on all fours? I told you I wanted a bathing suit, 
 didn’t I? Did I say anything about a chair cover?” 
 
 “I think if you take it off and try it on over 
 againit’ll work,” reasoned Mrs. Spoopendyke. 
 
 ‘‘Oh, of course. I’ve only got to humor the 
 blasted thing. That’s all it wants,” and Mr. 
 Spoopendyke wrenched it off with a growl. 
 
 “Now pull it on,” said Mrs. Spoopendyke. 
 
 “Suit you now?” he howled. “That the way 
 you meant it to go? What’s these things flopping 
 here?” 
 
 “Those are the legs, I’m afraid,” said Mrs. 
 Spoopendyke, dejectedly. 
 
 “What are they doing here? I see; oh, I see, 
 this is supposed to represent me making a dive. 
 When I get this on I’m going head first. Where’s 
 the balance? Where’s the rest? Give me the suit 
 that represents me head up,” and Mr. Spoopendyke 
 danced around the room in fury. 
 
 “Just turn it over, my dear,” said Mrs. Spoopen- 
 dyke, “and you are all right.” 
 
 “How’m I going to turn it over?” yelled Mr. 
 Spoopendyke. “S’pose I’m going -to carry around 
 a steam boiler to turn me over when I want the 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 197 
 
 other end of this thing up? S’pose I’m going to 
 hire a man to go around with the griddle spoon 
 and turn me over like a flap-jack, just to please 
 this dod blasted bathing suit? D’ye think I work 
 on pivots?” 
 
 “Just take it ofi* and put it on the other way,” 
 urged Mrs. Spoopendyke, who began to see her way 
 clear. 
 
 Mr. Spoopendyke kicked the thing up to the 
 ceiling, and plunged into it once more. This time 
 it came out all right, and as he buttoned it up and 
 surveyed himself in the glass the clouds passed 
 away and he smiled. 
 
 “I like it,” he remarked; “the color suits me, 
 and I think you have done very well, my dear : 
 only,” and he frowned slightly, “I wish you would 
 mark the arms and legs so I can distinguish one 
 from the other, or some day I will present the 
 startling spectacle of a respectable elderly gentle- 
 man hopping around the beach upside down. 
 That’s all .” — Brooklyn Eagle. 
 
 ©HE Dignijuy op Oppigb. 
 
 A Detroiter, who was rusticating in one of the 
 wilderness counties of Michigan, was one day out 
 hunting when he came upon a hamlet consisting of 
 a saw-mill, two houses and a log barn. The sign 
 of “Post Offlce” greeted his vision over a door in 
 
198 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 one of the houses, and he investigated. The office 
 was an eight by ten room, and the boxes for mail 
 matter numbered just four. A written sign on the 
 wall announced that the mail arrived and departed 
 once a week, and the Postmaster sat behind a pine 
 table reading the Postal Guide and chewing a 
 sassafras root. 
 
 “Any letter for John ?” asked the Detroiter, 
 
 as he looked around. 
 
 The P. M. didn’t shake his head and crush the 
 inquirer’s hopes all at once, as some officials do, 
 but slowly arose, looked carefully into each one of 
 the six empty boxes, peered into an old cigar box 
 on the window-sill, and then answered : 
 
 “I don’t see anything just now, but 'it is only 
 four days till the next mail.” 
 
 “Is this a money-order office?” continued the 
 stranger. 
 
 “Well, no, not exactly, though we handle con- 
 siderable money here.” 
 
 “Can I get a dollar’s worth of threes?” asked the 
 Detroiter, after a pause. 
 
 “Well, no, not exactly,” replied the official, look- 
 ing into his wallet. “I guess I can spare five or 
 six now and the rest next week.” 
 
 There was another pause as the Postmaster 
 vainly tried to make change for a quarter, and the 
 Detroiter finally remarked : 
 
THE DIGNITY OF OFFICE. 
 
 P. 198. 
 
u.rm;; 
 
 IffiRflRV 
 OF T"E 
 
 ■'ly i-f (LU.’O'o 
 
 
WIT AND WITS, 
 
 199 
 
 “This isn’t rated as a first-class post-office, is it?” 
 
 “Well, no, not exactly,” was the confidential 
 reply. “Fact is, we don’t do a very rushing busi- 
 ness here, and sometimes I think it would pay me 
 better to go back to the farm.” 
 
 “I don’t suppose you make $20 a year here, do 
 you?” 
 
 “Well, no, not exactly; but I don’t look at that 
 altogether. The position that it gives Us in society 
 here must be taken into consideration, you know!” 
 
 The population of the hamlet, including a tame 
 bear and a dog, was only thirteen souls . — Detroit 
 Free Press. 
 
 IJES iNGOMPF^BHHNSIBLiES. ' 
 
 A LA VICTOE HUGO. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 A man sat on a picket fence. 
 
 Picket fences were invented by Charlemagne and 
 improved upon by Charles II. of England. 
 
 Still the man sat on the fence. 
 
 BOOK II. 
 
 The fence surrounded a tall, gloomy building. 
 The building had shutters at the window. The man 
 was a Frenchman. There were other Frenchmen 
 
200 
 
 THE WORLD'' S 
 
 in the same neighborhood. They were in bed. 
 Frenchmen were discovered by Ohver Cromwell, 
 and subsequently patented by the author. They 
 are copyrighted. All Frenchmen not hearing the 
 signature of the author are spurious. 
 
 It was night. It was a dark night. Darkness 
 is a shadow that rises from the ground when the 
 sun goes down. 
 
 The man on the fence was thinking. His name 
 was Lippiatt. 
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 Lippiatt loved Maronette. Maronette was a girl. 
 She knew Lippiatt. She did not know that Lippi- 
 att loved her. 
 
 Maronette hved in the gloomy house. Lippiatt 
 did not tell Maronette that he loved her. He was 
 contented to sit on the fence in front of her house. 
 He was a quiet man. Like all Frenchmen, he was 
 the bravest man in thirteen counties. He was a 
 tailor. A tailor is a man who promises to have 
 your clothes done Saturday, and then brings them 
 around week after next. 
 
 Lippiatt was poor. All heroes are poor. 
 
 BOOK IV. 
 
 Maronette opened a window and shied an old 
 boot at Lippiatt. 
 
wrr AND WITS. 
 
 m 
 
 “Is that you, Lippiatt?” she said. 
 
 “Yes,’' said Lippiatt. 
 
 Maronette laughed. 
 
 “My father says I must marry the man who will 
 bring him the Norwegian maelstrom,” said Maro- 
 nette. 
 
 Lippiatt got oh the fence and walked away. 
 
 BOOK V. 
 
 Like all tailors in France, Lippiatt was a good 
 sailor. He stole a boat and started for the coast of 
 Norway. A fearful storm came on. The world 
 drew on a heavy cloak to protect it from the storm. 
 The sea opened a thousand mouths to swallow Lip- 
 piatt. It was hungry for him. His beard and hair 
 were filled with salt. Great grasping hands of 
 darkness reached down to snatch him. 
 
 Lippiatt only laughed. 
 
 The scene grew wilder.' Monsters of water 
 crowded against the boat. They were reaching for 
 Lippiatt. He steered his boat to avoid them. 
 
 A wave averages twenty feet in height. It con- 
 tains 400 tons of water. It is thicker at the base 
 than at the top. In that respect it is hke a pyra- 
 mid. But it is not three-cornered. It is oval in 
 shape. A round wave is a water-spout. A water- 
 spout is thick at the top and bottom and slender in 
 the middle. 
 
202 
 
 THE WORLD'S 
 
 # 
 
 Lippiatt knew this. 
 
 He was afraid of waves. He was fearful of 
 water- spouts. 
 
 BOOK VI. 
 
 In four days Lippiatt arrived at the maelstrom. 
 
 “It is for Maronette,” said he. 
 
 The maelstrom is shaped like a funnel. The 
 lower end is at the bottom. The mouth is at the 
 toj). It is caused hy the tides. The Norwegians 
 suppose it is caused by a hole in the ground. Lip- 
 piatt knew better. 
 
 He went down in the maelstrom and fastened a 
 rope around the lower end. To this rope he ad- 
 justed blocks and pulleys. Then he climbed out of 
 the pit and fastened the other end of the rope to 
 the masthead. The blocks gave him a purchase. 
 
 He rested. 
 
 BOOK VII. 
 
 Having rested, Lippiatt pulled on the rope. He 
 pulled the maelstrom inside out. The bottom was 
 then at the top. It spun around like an inverted 
 top. 
 
 Lippiatt drove a staple into it and fastened his 
 line. Then he set sail. The maelstrom followed. 
 
 ‘T shall marry Maronette,” he said. 
 
 BOOK VIII. 
 
 Another man sat on the picket fence. It was 
 
203 
 
 WIT AND WITS. 
 
 Goudenay. Goudenay loved Maronette. Maronette 
 loved Goudenay. 
 
 Goudenay saw something coming in the harbor. 
 
 “What’s that?” he asked. 
 
 It looked like an inverted funnel. It was 1000 
 feet high. 
 
 “I don’t know,” said Maronette. 
 
 She was right. She didn’t. 
 
 BOOK IX. 
 
 Lippiatt disembarked. He took the maelstrom 
 on his shoulders. Then he went to the gloomy 
 house. He hung the maelstrom on the picket 
 fence. 
 
 “How do you do, Goudenay?” he asked. 
 
 He knew Goudenay. He had disappointed him 
 about some trousers. 
 
 “I am happy,” said Goudenay. “I am going to 
 marry Maronette.” 
 
 Lippiatt looked at Maronette. 
 
 “Yes,” she said, “I marry Goudenay this morn- 
 ing.” 
 
 # BOOK X. 
 
 Lippiatt went to the wedding. 
 
 He gave Maronette a silver card-receiver. 
 
 Maronette smiled. 
 
 Lippiatt went back to the picket fence. He ate 
 the maelstrom up. 
 
20i 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 . BOOK XI. 
 
 As the wedding party went home they saw a 
 dead bod}' lying beside the picket fence. The point 
 of the maelstrom was sticking out of the mouth. 
 “Good gracious!” said Maronette. 
 
 “Holy smoke!” exclaimed Goudenay. 
 
 It was Lippi att. 
 
 (SEf^r^OLD ^lOKBLETS. 
 
 THE MONEY-LENDEK. 
 
 The best fellow in the world, sir; to get money 
 of; for as he sends you half cash, half wine, why, 
 if you can’t take up his bill, you’ve always poison 
 at hand for a remedy. 
 
 A SCOUNDEEL. 
 
 “That scoundrel, sir ! Why, he’d sharpen a knife 
 upon his father’s tombstone to kill his mother!” 
 
 ANCESTKY. 
 
 “As for ancestry,” says Smoke, “truth to speak, 
 I am one of those who may take the cuckoo for 
 their crest, and for their motto, ‘Nothing.’ ” 
 
 BEED ON THE BOAEDS. 
 
 When Morris had the Haymarket Theater, Jer- 
 rold, on a certain occasion, had reason to find fault 
 with the strength, or, rather, the want of strength 
 of the company. 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 Morris expostulated and said, “Why, there’s Y 
 " , lie was hred on these hoards!” 
 
 Jerrold replied, “He looks as though he’d been 
 cut out of them.” 
 
 A CAUTIOUS LOVER. 
 
 “When I courted her,” said Spreadweasel, “I 
 took lawyer’s advice, and signed every letter to my 
 love, ‘Yours, without prejudice!’ ” 
 
 ' A lover’s aspiration. 
 
 The sky’s blue again, — blue as your precious 
 eyes, and the raindrops hang upon the leaves as 
 bright as the diamonds I wish I was rich enough 
 to give you. 
 
 BEimTEI^ ©HAN A UO^PE. 
 
 His ardent vows she, trembhng, heard. 
 Her cheeks with brightest blushes dyed. 
 And as her glances sought the sward 
 She softly sighed. 
 
 “That you are diffident and shy,” 
 
 He said, “those downcast looks denote; 
 You will not speak? then you and I 
 Will take a vote. 
 
 “It is an easy thing to do : 
 
 A ballot, sweetest, cast with me 
 The question being, shall we two 
 United be?” 
 
206 
 
 THE ^SORLD'^S 
 
 Again she let her lashes fall ; 
 
 Then murmured with a charming air: 
 “Dear Jack, why need we vote at all, 
 Why can’t we pair?” 
 
 ^ eHUNNYGI^AMMBS. 
 
 Clara Morris says: “Mr. Tilden and I have 
 jointly made just about the most thorough study 
 of nerves and their disorders than can be imagined. 
 We haye learned everything concerning our dis- 
 eases except how to cure them.” 
 
 It was a charming little lady who the other day 
 said on the Boulevard des Italiens to an Italian 
 vender of statuettes, who offered her an effigy of 
 the Venus de Milo : “How is it that Milo makes all 
 his Yenuses without arms?” 
 
 “What are the Blenkinsop girls in mourning 
 for?” 
 
 “Their parrot.” 
 
 “In mourning for a parrot! Why, it’s a positive 
 sacrilege.” 
 
 “Oh, but this one could repeat the Lord’s prayer, 
 you know.” 
 
 A Minneapolis girl went to buy gingerbread the 
 other day and returned home married. It is said 
 
“HOW IS IT THAT MILO MAKES ALL THE VENUSES WITHOUT ARMS ?” 
 
 P. 206. 
 

 M 
 
 iLi‘. 
 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 207 
 
 that confectioners in that town can not now begin 
 to supply the demand for gingerbread. 
 
 Would-be fascinating brother-in-law to sister-in- 
 law: ‘‘Well, Maria, what do you think of the ‘de- 
 ceased wife’s sister bill?” 
 
 Maria: “Oh, I don’t mind, if they don’t make 
 it compulsory.’ ” 
 
 liINGOLN’S OP A IN REW SALEM. 
 
 Among the numerous delegations which thronged 
 Washington in the early part of the war, was one 
 from New York, which urged very strenuously the 
 sending of a fleet to the southern cities — Charles- 
 ton, Mobile and Savannah— with the object of 
 drawing off the rebel army from Washington. Mr. 
 Lincoln said the object reminded him of the case 
 of a girl in New Salem, who was greatly troubled 
 with a “singing” in her head. Various remedies 
 were suggested by the neighbors, but nothing tried 
 afforded any relief. At last a man came along — “a 
 common-sense sort of man,” said he, inclining his 
 head towards the gentleman complimentarily-“who 
 was asked to prescribe for the difficulty. After due 
 inquiry and examination, he said the cure was very 
 simple. 
 
 ‘What is it?’ was the question. 
 
208 
 
 THE WORLHS 
 
 ‘Make plaster of psalvi-tunes^ and apply to her 
 feet, and draw the “singing” doion^' was the rejoin- 
 der.” 
 
 Br^AVB AND Beautiful. 
 
 They grew in beauty side by side, 
 
 They filled one home with glee. 
 
 Jack was a ^s^^all pitcher; Jim — 
 
 A cricketer Avas he. 
 
 All perfect stood three noble youths 
 In beautiful Aprile. 
 
 Their pie-crust mouths were ever wreathed 
 With one seraphic smile. 
 
 But ere the sunimer time had waned 
 And overcoats had come, 
 
 Jack's nose had lost its only bridge, 
 
 Jim’s ear its only drum. 
 
 P yOUNG fflUSIGAL ©I^ITIG. 
 
 Little Mamie was returning with her mother and 
 father from a “piano recital” by a celebrated vir- 
 tuoso who had created considerable musical enthu- 
 siasm among his audience. 
 
 “Didn’t he play the piano exquisitely?” said the 
 mother. 
 
LfBRART 
 
 OF TSE 
 
 0.wrR;;.TF tF itu;’0''', 
 
 / 
 
“HE IS UNSOCIABLE. 
 
 P. 209. 
 
wrr AND WITS, 
 
 209 
 
 “He did indeed,” answered Mamie’s father. 
 
 “Play it!” exclaimed Mamie, “why, mamma, he 
 looked to me a good deal more as if he was working 
 it, and real hard, too .” — Merchant Traveler, 
 
 Sociable. 
 
 “Do yon know Mr. Fangle?” asked a lady caller 
 of Mrs. Snaggs. 
 
 “Oh, yes: I know him and his wife very well.” 
 
 “I hear he is a socialist. Is that so?” 
 
 “No, indeed, he isn’t. He is one of the most un- 
 sociable men I ever knew. Poor, dear Mrs. Fangle 
 can’t get hina to stay in the house one night a 
 week.” 
 
 ''flMUSBMBNJU.’' 
 
 “No,” remarked Fogg, “I don’t go to places of 
 amusement any more.” 
 
 “What do you mean?” asked Brown. “Didn’t I 
 see you at the theater night before last?” 
 
 “Yery likely,” replied Fogg, “but you can’t 
 hardly call a theater a place of amusement when 
 there are two women with their heads together in 
 front of you and two confounded chatterers right 
 behind you.” 
 
 14 
 
210 
 
 THE ^Y0BLH8 
 
 fl ^f)'UMOi^ous Speech — Liingoln in the 
 BLAGI^ r^AWI^ ^AI^. 
 
 The friends of General Cass, when that gentle- 
 man was a candidate for the presidency, endearored 
 to endow him with a military reputation. Mr. 
 Lincoln, at that time a representative in Congress, 
 delivered a speech before the House, which, in its 
 allusions to General Cass, was exquisitely sarcastic 
 and irresistibly humorous : 
 
 “By the way, Mr. Speaker,” said Mr. Lincoln, 
 “do you know I am a military hero? Yes, sir, in 
 the days of the Black Hawk War, I fought, bled 
 and came away. Speaking of General Cass’ career 
 reminds me of my own. I was not at Stillman’s 
 Defeat, hut I was about as near it as Cass to Hull’s 
 surrender ; and . like him I saw the place very soon 
 afterward. It is quite certain I did not break my 
 sword, for I had none to break ; but I bent my 
 musket pretty badly on one occassion. * * ^ 
 
 If General Cass went in advance of me in picking 
 whortleberries, I guess I surpassed him in charges 
 upon the wild onions. If he saw any live, fighting 
 Indians, it was more than I did, but I had a good 
 many bloody struggles with the musquitoes ; and 
 although I never fainted from loss of blood, I can 
 truly say I was often very hungry.” Mr. Lincoln 
 concluded by saying if he ever turned democrat 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 211 
 
 and should run for the Presidency, he hoped they 
 would not make fun of him by attempting to make 
 him a military hero ! 
 
 ©HEY Didn’iii Heed It. 
 
 Philanthropist (collecting) — I am soliciting sub- 
 scriptions for the benefit of the poor girls who work 
 in the cigarette manufactories. They make just 
 enough to pay their board, and have nothing left to 
 purchase clothes. 
 
 Crusty Old Gentleman — (who has seen pictures 
 of the cigarette-maker in the cigar stores) — I guess 
 it doesn’t cost them much for clothes. 
 
 ^ Gi^eat (Dan’s Blundei^. 
 
 First Gentleman — There is a treasure for you, 
 a bust of Julius Caesar.” 
 
 Second Gentleman — “Julius Caesar was a great 
 man. He was a great soldier and a very fair poli- 
 tician. But I always thought it rather absurd in 
 him to write a book for beginners in Latin. Pos- 
 itively I think it has injured his reputation. 
 
 She 1 (new I71S I^igtlh^es. 
 
 “My most terrible critic,” said Mr. A the 
 
 artist of this city, the other day, “is an old lady 
 
212 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 who frequently comes in here and never finishes 
 her visit without telling me how much I paint like 
 
 Mr. B . A few days ago when she was here 
 
 she rushed up to a couple of little sketches I had 
 on the wall and said: ^There, now, I like those. 
 
 You didn’t copy B ’s style when you painted 
 
 them.’ Some other artists who were in the corner 
 were heard to snicker audibly, for I had just been 
 telling them before my critic came in that those 
 
 self-same pictures were by B himself and that 
 
 I had got them by trading with him.” 
 
 Squibs. 
 
 “Did Blobson go to the reception in full dress 
 last evening?” asked Popinjay of a friend of his, 
 who was there. “No,” was the reply, “his dress 
 wasn’t quite full, but he w^as.” 
 
 A Texas gentleman has observed that when he 
 goes out hunting, and has his gun with him, and 
 wants to ride on the street car, he has never yet 
 had occasion to signal a street car driver twice. — 
 Texas Siftings. 
 
 A sermon is always short to the woman who 
 wears a new bonnet to church for the first time. 
 
 The prettiest things in spring bonnets — girls. 
 
WIT AND WITS, 
 
 21S 
 
 Didn’ih F^eel Lcii^e ©alining. 
 
 He stood beneath lier window there, 
 
 While gazed upon him from above 
 The eyes of her lie deemed most fair 
 In the bright brilliancy of love. 
 
 “Oh, speak to me!” the young man cried. 
 
 “Oh, speak to me! Why art thou still?” 
 She only answered with a sigh. 
 
 And leaned upon the window-sill. 
 
 “By all the vows of fondest love. 
 
 By all out plighted hopes and fears. 
 
 Oh, speak to me, my dear! my dove!” 
 
 She only answered with her tears. 
 
 Why stood she silent? What the cause 
 To leave her lover in his doubt? 
 
 She did not dare to move her jaws. 
 
 Her new false teeth had fallen out? 
 
 FJemai^p^able Fall. 
 
 “I had rather a bad fall last night ; remained un- 
 conscious nearly eight hours.” 
 
 “Bless me! and walking about as usual to-day?” 
 “Yes; it didn’t injure me in the least. The fact 
 is, I rather enjoyed it.” 
 
 “Wonderful! How did you fall?” 
 
 “Fell asleep.” 
 
214 
 
 THE MORLHS 
 
 Was Glad. 
 
 A certain Austin landlord is a very diffusive soid; 
 of a man, much given to speaking before he thinks. 
 He recentl}^ met Prof. Snore, his new tenant. 
 
 “Good morning, professor, good morning. Glad 
 to see you looking so well. How do like the 
 house?” 
 
 “Very much, indeed.” 
 
 “Glad to hear it; very glad to hear it.” 
 
 “Yes, sir ; I like it. I hope to die in the house.” 
 
 “I hope so, too. Glad to liear you talk that 
 way .” — Texas Siftings. 
 
 She r)AD NO fflusiG in Soul. 
 
 A charming conservatory girl of the historian’s 
 comprehensive yet discriminating acquaintance 
 tells him how, while she was crossing Franklin 
 square the other day, she was accosted by a well- 
 dressed and fairly intelligent-looking woman with : 
 
 “Can any one go into the conservatory and see 
 the flowers?” 
 
 The conservatory girl was amazed that the fame 
 of the few drooping and haggard tropical plants 
 standing here and there in the corridors should 
 have spread abroad or .gained any reputation for 
 beauty, and she said: 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 215 
 
 “Keally, madam, there are no flowers in the con- 
 servatory worth a visit.” 
 
 “Oh!” she replied, “only fruits and vegetables?” 
 
 The charming student was compelled to inform 
 her inquirer that in that particular conservatory 
 fruits and vegetables, as well as other luxuries of 
 life, were exceedingly rare. 
 
 BI^EAI^ING iFHE FUf^NUIiUl^E. 
 
 “They will have to get some new benches in the 
 Enghsh parliament now, I suppose,” observed Mrs. 
 Snaggs. 
 
 “What makes you think that?” asked her hus- 
 band. 
 
 “The paper said that when Gladstone finished 
 his speech the English and Scotch benches broke 
 into cheers, and of course they’ll either have to 
 repair them or get new ones.” 
 
 ©ESTING Y}IS FjEI^OISM.- 
 
 He had been courting a west end girl for a long 
 time, but has quit now. It happened Sunday night 
 after church. They were sitting as close together 
 as the sofa would permit. She looked with ineffable 
 tenderness into his noble blue eyes. 
 
 “George,” she murmured, with a tremor in her 
 
216 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 voice, “didn’t you tell me once you would be will- 
 ing to do any great act of heroism for my sake?” 
 
 “Yes, Fannie; and I gladly reiterate the state- 
 ment now,” he replied, in confident tones. “Xo 
 noble Roman of old was fired with a loftier ambi- 
 tion, a braver resolution, than I.” 
 
 ‘XYell, George, I want you to do something real 
 heroic for me.” 
 
 “Speak, darling; what is it?” 
 
 “x\sk me to be your wife. We’ve been fooling 
 long enough." 
 
 The sequel is stated in the preface . — Washington 
 Critic. 
 
 ^OI^ES'BY ^Er^I^OLiD. 
 
 LOVE. 
 
 They say love’s like the measles — all the worse 
 when it comes late in life. 
 
 THE CHANGES OF THE HEAET. 
 
 “When we last met, ma’am, my heart was like a 
 summer walnut, — green and tender; now, I can 
 tell you, it’s plaguy hard in the shell.” 
 
 DAMPED AEDOE. 
 
 JeiTold and Laman Blanchard were strolling 
 together about London, discussing passionately a 
 plan for joining a patriot in Greece. Jerrold, telling 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 217 
 
 the story afterward, said, “But a shower of rain 
 came on and washed all the Greece out of us.” 
 
 jerkold’s luggage. 
 
 When Jerrold was once returning from the con - 
 tinent, a Folkstone custom-house officer seized his 
 carpet-bag — a very small one — and said, ‘‘I cannot 
 let that pass; you must tell me what’s in it!” 
 
 “In this reticule!” Jerrold replied; “well, you 
 shall see it; but I can assure you that it’s only a 
 very small hippopotamus.” 
 
 STOr^Y BY lilNGOLN’S UNGLE. 
 
 No one ever took offense at Uncle Mord’s stories 
 — not even the ladies. I heard him once tell a 
 bevy of fashionable girls that he knew a very large 
 woman who had a husband so small that in the 
 night she often mistook him for the baby, and that 
 upon one occasion she took him up and was sing- 
 ing to him a soothing lullaby, when he awoke and 
 told her that she was mistaken, that the baby was 
 on the other side of the bed. 
 
 I)OW UlNGOLN AND iUDGE B SWAPPED 
 
 r^oi^sEs. 
 
 When Abraham Lincoln was a lawyer in Illinois, 
 he and a certain Judge once got to bantering one 
 
218 THE WORTHS 
 
 another about trading horses ; and it was agreed 
 that the next morning at 9 o’clock they should 
 make a trade, the liorses to be unseen up to that 
 hour, and no backing out, under a forfeiture of 
 $25. 
 
 At the hour appointed the Judge came up, lead- 
 ing the sorriest-looking specimen of a horse ever 
 seen in those parts. In a few minutes Mr. Lincoln 
 was seen approaching with a wooden saw-horse 
 upon his shoulders. Great were the shouts and 
 the laughter of the crowd, and both were greatly 
 increased when Mr. Lincoln, on surveying the 
 Judge’s animal, set down his saw-horse, and ex- 
 claimed: “Well, Judge, this is the first time I 
 ever got the worst of it in a horse trade.” 
 
 lOllUTIGISMS BY - 
 
 CONTENTMENT.' 
 
 Contentment is the poor man’s bank. 
 
 THE TIME FOE MOUENING. 
 
 When rich rogues are merry, honest folks may 
 go into mourning. 
 
 TEEASON. 
 
 Treason is like diamonds; there’s nothing to be 
 made of it by the small trader. 
 
 A EOGUE INDEED. 
 
 Had he to cut his neighbor’s throat, he’d first 
 sharpen his knife on the church marble. 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 219 
 
 MR. pepper’s party. 
 
 Jerrold went to a party at which a Mr. Pepper 
 had assembled all his friends. Jerrold said to his 
 host, on entering the room, “My dear Mr. Pepper, 
 how glad you must he to see all your friends mus- 
 tered!” 
 
 A PROFESSOR. 
 
 Indeed, there are few things, from Chinese to 
 backgammon, of which I am not a professor. I 
 dabble, too, a good deal in bar and pulpit eloquence. 
 Ha, sir 1 the barristers I’ve fitted for the woolsack 
 — the heads I’ve patted into shape for mitres! 
 Even the stuttering parish clerk of Tithepig-cum- 
 Tottlepot, he took only three lessons, and nobody 
 knew his “Amen” for the same thing. And then 
 I’ve a great name for knife-and-fork eloquence. 
 Yes — I teach people after-dinner thanks. I don’t 
 brag ; but, show me the man who, like me, can bring 
 in the happiest moment of a gentleman’s life at 
 only a- crown a lesson. 
 
 EINGOLN’S fiDVIGB iPO A Bl^OMINENip 
 
 Bagheloi^. 
 
 Upon the bethrothal of the Prince of Wales to 
 the Princess Alexandra, Queen Victoria sent a letter 
 to each of the European sovereigns, and also to 
 President Lincoln, announcing the fact. Lord 
 
220 
 
 THE WORLD'^S 
 
 Lyons, her embassador at Washington, — a “bache- 
 lor” by the way, — requested an audience of Mr. 
 Lincoln, that he might present this important doc- 
 ument in person. At the time appointed he was 
 received at the White House, in company with Mr. 
 Seward. 
 
 “May it please your Excellency,” said Lord 
 Lyons, “I hold in my hand an autograph letter from 
 my royal mistress. Queen Victoria, which I have 
 been commanded to present your Excellency. In 
 it she informs jmur Excellency, that her son, his 
 Royal Highness the Prince of Wales, is about to 
 contract a matrimonial alliance with her Royal 
 Highness the Princess Alexandra of Denmark.” 
 
 After continuing in this strain for a few minutes, 
 Lord Lyons tendered the letter to the President 
 and awaited his reply. It was short, simple, and 
 expressive, and consisted simply of the words : 
 
 . “Lord Lyons, go thou and do likeiviseE 
 
 It is doubtful if an English ambassador was 
 ever addressed in this manner before, and it would 
 be interesting to learn what success he met with in 
 putting the reply in diplomatic language when he 
 reported it to her Majesty. 
 
 ©HE Big Huisange. 
 
 One evening Diogenes was sitting at the theatre 
 sadly contemplating a feminine hat as big as a 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 221 
 
 poultry-yard, which *it very much resembled. “I 
 wish I had a club,” he said, in his pathetic way, “I 
 would like to hit that woman one good crack on 
 
 ” he hesitated. “The thing she carries her 
 
 brains in?” suggested his friend. “Ah, no,” replied 
 the cynic, “the thing she wears her hat on.” — 
 Brooklyn Eagle. 
 
 AND DAUGHTBf^ gAI^VBNU. 
 
 “Look here, daughter,” said Mrs. Parvenu to 
 her eldest, “I’m not going to have you deranging 
 my parlor with your athletic notions any longer, 
 and I shall attend to it myself.” 
 
 “Taint mieux,” replied the daughter in elegant 
 seminary French. 
 
 “ ’Taint you, eh?” snapped the mother. “Well, 
 I’d like to know who the mischief it is, then?” 
 
 ©HB gi^oPBssoi^ Dusting I^ugs. 
 
 Speaking of the music we hear in the spring, 
 reminds the Historian of the carpets they beat in 
 the spring, tra la! and of the singular experience 
 of his friend. Prof. X., an excellent educator and 
 profound student, who does not spurn a reasonable 
 share of homely household duties that fall to the 
 lot of every head of a New England family of 
 moderate circumstances. 
 
222 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 The other morning, when the professor was in 
 his den deeply absorbed in the contemplation of an 
 abstruse subject, his wife opened the door and 
 called softly to him : 
 
 ‘‘My dear, could you help us in our house-clean- 
 ing by beating just three rugs that you’ll find out 
 under the south window of the parlor? If you 
 will, please take them one at a time out into the 
 back yard, and beat them and hang them on the 
 line, and I’ll be so much obliged.” 
 
 The professor arose, sei^d his most serviceable 
 walking-stick, and went into the yard, still deeply 
 absorbed in the learned meditations that had oc- 
 cupied him in the house. He took one of the three 
 rugs from under the parlor window, transferred it 
 to the back yard, beat it long and manfully, and 
 hung it on the line. When he came back for an- 
 other rug he was still too much absorbed to notice 
 that there were still three rugs under the window ; 
 and when he had beaten another, and had hung 
 that out, and had come back again, and there w^ere 
 still three rugs under the window, his meditations 
 never switched off from the subject of their con- 
 centration to the regular and mysterious renewal 
 of the third rug. 
 
 And so he kept on beating those three rugs and 
 meditating until the morning wore to midday, and 
 the professor began to grow hungry ; and when the 
 
IT OCCURRED TO HIM TO LOOK AT THE CLOTHES-LINE. 
 
 P. 22^. 
 
M.vm 
 
 ■ % 
 
 J 
 
 1 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
 ■s 
 
 i 
 
 i 
 
 4 
 
 i 
 
 
 ( 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 223 
 
 yearnings of appetite actually brought his contem- 
 plation down to sublunary things, it occurred to 
 him to look at the clothes-line, and there he counted 
 no less than sixteen rugs all beautifully beaten — a 
 charming vision of the Orient ! 
 
 If he had been in the next house at that moment 
 he might have heard the remark : 
 
 “I wonder what in the world Mrs. X. has been 
 putting her rugs out of the window one at a time 
 all the morning for, for the professor to beat.” 
 
 The prudent housewife knows how to utilize to 
 domestic advantage all the forces and dispositions 
 of her husband’s nature . — Boston Record. 
 
 ©IKYING IPHB SBI^IOUS 
 
 GXPBI^IMENT., 
 
 f * 
 
 A deputation of bankers were one day introduced 
 to the President by the Secretary of the Treasury. 
 
 One of the party, Mr. P of Chelsea, Mass., took 
 
 occasion to refer to the severity of the tax laid by 
 Congress upon the State Banks. 
 
 “Now,” said Mr. Lincoln, ‘That reminds me of a 
 circumstance that took place in a neighborhood 
 where I lived when I was a boy. In the spring of 
 the year the farmers were very fond of the dish 
 which they called greens, though the fashionable 
 name for it now-a-days is spinach, I believe. One 
 
224 
 
 THE WOBLH& 
 
 day after dinner, a large family were taken very ill. 
 The doctor was called in, who attributed it to the 
 greens, of which all had freely partaken. Living in 
 the family was a half-witted hoy named Jake. On 
 a subsequent occasion, v/hen greens had been gath- 
 ered for dinner, the head of the house said: ‘Now, 
 boys, before running any further risk in this thing, 
 we will first try them on Jake. If he stands it, we 
 are all right.’ And just so, I suppose,” said Mr. 
 Lincoln, “Congress thought it would try this tax 
 on the State Bank!” 
 
 SGINJPILIiATIONS. 
 
 It seems strange that we never meet the man 
 who has drawn the lottery prize ; but we hear of 
 the man who came within one or two hundred of 
 it. 
 
 Take the biU of fare literally : Edith — I’d like 
 some boiled dodo, mamma. 
 
 Mamma (to waiter) — The child means boiled 
 ditto. AMu may bring me a small shce, too. 
 
 Judge (indignantly) — These sums which you 
 stole, fruits of long years of honest work you squan- 
 dered in wretched fooleries. 
 
 Prisoner (with emotion)— I could not keep that 
 money. It weighed too much on my conscience. 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 225 
 
 The conductors on the- Koute are a very 
 
 bright set of men. A traveler asked one of them, 
 “Will I have time to get something to eat at the 
 next station?” “Yes, you will have time enough if 
 you are not going any further bn this train.” 
 
 A man whose daughter had married away from 
 home, wrote to inquire what kind of a man her 
 husband was, and received for reply, ‘T tell you, 
 father, he’s a prime good whistler, and you never 
 saw such a hand for flapjacks in all your days. 
 He’s got blue eyes, and his father belongs to the 
 church.” 
 
 A bookseller in Tokio, Japan, desiring to sell his 
 wares, thus advertised them in the newspapers: 
 The advantages of our establishment: — 1, Prices 
 cheap as a lottery. 2, Books elegant as a single 
 girl. 3, Print clear as crystal. 4, Paper tough as 
 elephant’s hide. 5, Customers treated as politely 
 as by the rival steamship companies. 6, Articles 
 as plentiful as in a library. 7, Goods despatched 
 as expeditiously as a cannon ball. 
 
 Two men were on a Broadway car the other day, 
 who were debating the condition of trade. One 
 was gloomy. The other failed utterly by argument 
 to raise him to a more sanguine view of things. 
 He at last said: 
 
 15 
 
226 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 “Well, I didn’t like to tell you, but my latest 
 line of business has proven bad.” 
 
 “What are you in?” asked the gloomy chap. 
 
 “Lime,” was the reply. 
 
 “What’s the matter with the lime trade?” was 
 the unsuspecting inquiry. 
 
 “Slack,” said the sanguine man as he grinned 
 broadly, while the people in the car laughed at the 
 way he had entrapped the man of shadows. 
 
 lilNGOIiN IN - 
 
 Senator McDonald states that he saw a jury trial 
 in Illinois, at which Lincoln defended an old man 
 charged with assault and battery. No blood had 
 been spilled, but there was malice in the j)rosecu- 
 tion, and the chief witness was eager to make the 
 most of it. On cross-examination, Lincoln gave 
 him rope and drew him out ; asked him how long 
 the fight lasted, and how much ground it covered. 
 The witness thought the fight must have lasted 
 half an hour, and covered an acre of ground. Lin- 
 coln called his attention to the fact that nobody 
 was hurt, and then, with an inimitable air, asked 
 him if he didn’t think it was “a mighty small crop 
 for an acre of gronndT The jury rejected the 
 case with contempt as beneath the dignity of twelve 
 brave, good men and true. 
 
WIT AND WITS, 
 
 227 
 
 Iqe I<;new ©hem 
 
 An old New York gentleman, meeting his grand- 
 son, said to him, in an impressive tone of voice : 
 
 “My dear boy, I hear some very discouraging 
 reports about you. They say that you go behind 
 the scenes and toy with the actresses. Is that so?” 
 
 “Yes, uncle; to a certain extent.” 
 
 “Drop them, my boy. I’ve been there when I 
 was at your age, half a century ago. They are a 
 bad lot.” 
 
 “But, uncle, actresses of to-day are very different 
 from what they were when you were a boy.” 
 
 “Not much. They are the same identical act- 
 resses .” — Texas Siftings. 
 
 So. 
 
 A New Yorker who was traveling in Maryland 
 came across a big dry ditch about forty rods long 
 in the outskirts of a town, and naturally inquired 
 what it was intended for. “A canal,” was the 
 answer. “Why wasn’t it finished?” “No need of 
 it. By the time they had dug this far the company 
 was consolidated with a railroad, the subscriptions 
 were all in, the stockholders frozen out, and the 
 leading men ready for a year’s pleasure trip to 
 Europe.” 
 
228 
 
 THE WOELHS 
 
 Sound Lcegal flDviGs. 
 
 A citizen who was bitten by a dog wrote to bis 
 lawyer, asking what to do about it. The lawyer 
 was a bit puzzled, but wrote back : “Demand sat- 
 isfaction of the animal, and, if he will not give it, 
 sue him for damages for mayhem. If he is a gen- 
 tleman, however, he wdll settle, and you will have 
 no further trouble, save, possibly, hydrophobia. 
 This is the best way out.” 
 
 fflADE A gl^OEUT. 
 
 A man afflicted with deafness took a prescription 
 to a Topeka druggist, who filled it with care and in 
 the latest style. The deaf man asked the price, 
 when the following talk occurred : 
 
 Druggist (leaning on the counter and smihng in 
 a won’t-you-pay-up sort of a manner) — “The price 
 is seventy-five cents.” 
 
 Deaf Customer — “Five cents? Here it is.” 
 
 Druggist (in alouder voice)— “Seventy-five cents, 
 please.” 
 
 Deaf Customer — “Well, there’s your five cents.” 
 
 Druggist (in a very loud voice and a very firm 
 manner) — “I said seventy cents.” 
 
 Deaf Customer (getting angry) — “Well, what 
 more do you want? I just gave you your five 
 cents.” 
 

 MADE A PROFIT 
 
 P. 228 
 
Cf T'iE 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 229 
 
 Druggist {sotto voce) — ‘‘Well, go to thunder with 
 your medicine; I made three cents, any way.” 
 
 fiGGOMMODATING I?I^ISONEI^. 
 
 The morning of the execution the Superintend- 
 ent of the prison asks the condemned what he 
 will have for breakfast, when it is the custom to 
 give the unfortunate whatever he desires. 
 
 “Well,” said the latter, “you may get me some 
 peaches.” 
 
 “Peaches ! Why, this is not the season for them. 
 They are not ripe yet.” 
 
 “0, well, that makes fft)v^di:fcrence ! ” he replied, 
 “I can wait for them. '\~Frencli,, Paper. 
 
 Squelghing an “Obsti^ugjpoi^.” 
 
 A good instance of the execution which he some- 
 times effected with a story, occurred in the legisla- 
 ture. There was a troublesome member from 
 Wabash county, who gloried particularly in being 
 a “strict constructionist.” He found something 
 “unconstitutional” in every measure that was 
 brought forward for discussion. He was a member 
 of the Judiciary Committee, and was very apt, after 
 giving every measure a heavy pounding, to advo- 
 cate its reference to this committee. No amount 
 
230 
 
 THE WORLDS S 
 
 of sober argument could floor the member from 
 Wabash. At last he came to be considered a man 
 to be silenced, and Mr. Lincoln was resorted to for 
 an expedient by which this object might be accom- 
 plished. He soon afterwards honored the draft 
 thus made upon him. 
 
 A measure was brought forward in which Mr. 
 Lincoln’s constituents were interested, when the 
 member from Wabash rose and discharged all his 
 batteries upon its unconstitutional points. Mr. 
 Lincoln then took the floor, and, with the quizzical 
 expression of features which he could assume at 
 will, and a mirthful twinkle in his gray eyes, said : 
 “Mr. Speaker, the attack of the member from 
 Wabash on the constitutionality of this measure, 
 reminds me of an old friend of mine. He’s a pe- 
 culiar looking old fellow, with shaggy, overhanging 
 eyebrows, and a pair of spectacles under them. 
 (Everybody turned ta the member from Wabash, 
 and recognized a personal description.) One morn- 
 ing just after the old man got up, he imagined, on 
 looking out of his door, that he saw rather a hvely 
 squirrel on a tree near his house. So he took down 
 his rifle and flred at the squirrel, but the squirrel 
 paid no attention to the shot. He loaded and fired 
 again, and again, until, at the thirteenth shot, he 
 set down his gun impatiently, and said to his boy, 
 who was looking on : 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 231 
 
 “ ‘Boy, there’s something wrong about this rifle.’ 
 
 “ ‘Kifle’s all right, I know ’tis,’ responded the 
 boy, ’but where’s your squirrel?” 
 
 “ ‘Don’t you see him, humped up about half way 
 up the tree?’ inquired the old man, peering over 
 his spectacles, and getting mystified. 
 
 “ ‘No I don’t,’ responded the boy; and then turn- 
 ing and looking into his father’s face, he exclaimed, 
 ‘I see your squirrel! You’ve been firing at a louse 
 on your eyebrow!’ ” 
 
 The story needed neither application nor ex- 
 planation. The House was in convulsions of 
 laughter; Mr Lincoln’s skill in telling a story was 
 not inferior to his appreciation of its points and his 
 power of adapting them to the case in hand. It 
 killed ofl the member from Wabash, who was very 
 careful afterwards not to provoke any allusion to 
 his “eyebrows!” 
 
 Flashes. 
 
 Minister (dining with the family) — My young 
 friend, you must come one of these days and spend 
 an afternoon with my little boys. 
 
 Little Johnny (delighted) — And can I see the 
 skeleton, too? 
 
 Minister — Skeleton! Why, what do you mean? 
 
 Little Johnny (paralyzing the whole company) — 
 Oh, I heard ma say to pa that she didn’t know 
 
232 
 
 THE WORLDS S 
 
 what she’d do if she had such an uglj^ skeleton in 
 her closet as you have ! 
 
 The story is told that a distinguished prelate of 
 the Church of England, on accepting a country 
 benefice, urged a friend to make him a visit as soon 
 as he got settled, remarking in perfect good faith : 
 “I have a nice little green field attached to the rec- 
 tory. I mean to keep a couple of sheep, and we 
 shall have mutton kidneys fresh every morning for 
 breakfast.” 
 
 “You attend Sunday school, do you?” inquired 
 the Rev. Mr. Smith of Nellie. “Then you must 
 know a good deal about the bible. Now tell us 
 something nice that’s in the bible here, can you?” 
 
 “Yeth thir. Sis hath some dried leaves in it, a 
 pieth of Aunt Jane’s wedding-cake, a pieth of my 
 dreth when I was a baby, thome hair, and Sis’ fel- 
 low’s picture.” 
 
 “Who.giveth this woman away?” asked the 
 clergyman in a wedding service. 
 
 “I could,” came the voice of a young man from 
 the gallery, “but I’d never be so mean.” 
 
 A Eulton County (111.) citizen was induced to 
 vote at a recent election by the gift of 10 cents' 
 worth of tobacco and five pies. 
 
WHAT THEIR BIBLE CONTAINED. 
 
 P. 232. 
 
('•(- I'Kf 
 
 U.-vn;..., ir uf (ll: "'•A . 
 
 4 
 
 •j 
 
 
WIT AND WlT8, 
 
 233 
 
 Maj. Bell of the Los Angeles (Cal.) Porcupine, 
 has had the misfortune to he fined $700 for con- 
 tempt of court — suggesting, if not showing, that 
 the editor of the Porcupine would best have held 
 his quills to his editorial work. 
 
 Husband (impatiently to wife) — “I told you I 
 only wanted half a cup of tea, and, as usual, you’ve 
 filled it to the top. Don’t you know what half 
 full is?” 
 
 Mother-in-law (grimly) — “She ought to by this 
 time.” 
 
 Mamma (house-huntif^g ‘ forHhe season) — “It’s a 
 good house for a dance, Emily!” -j 
 
 Emily — “The rooms are rather small, aren’t 
 they?” 
 
 Mamma (who knows how matches are made) — 
 “Yes, but what a capital staircase!” — Punch. 
 
 The Indian who cut the top from his blanket 
 and stitched it to the bottom, in order to make it 
 longer, found when he had completed the job that 
 he had lost only the seam in length. 
 
 Paternal advice of Brother Gardner to a member 
 of the Lime-Kiln Club setting out on. his travels : 
 
 “1. De kivered kyars won’t git dar any sooner 
 by puttin’ yer head outer de winder. 
 
234 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 2. De three-keerd monte man may look as 
 pious as de real church deakun. 
 
 3. Pomposity am a pumpkin wid holler insides. 
 
 4. Keep yer money \Yhar ye can’t lend it wid- 
 out pulling off yer hutes .” — Detroit Free Press. 
 
 Petroleum is the topic of the office, drawing- 
 room, and workshop, and a great part of our people 
 think only of oil, talk oil, and dream oil. Miss 
 Jennie Smith, the railroad evangelist, who has been 
 laboring here, when leaving the other day, ap- 
 proached at the train Capt. V , a well known 
 
 operator who was standing on the platform, took 
 him by the hand, as is her custom, and asked: 
 “Brother, how are you? Are you on the rock or 
 iand?” 
 
 The Captain absent-mindedly but excitedly, re- 
 plied: “We are two hits in the sand and gushing 
 like blazes.” 
 
 ©HE SUDGE AND IPHB Dl^UNI^EN ©OAGHMAN. 
 
 Attorney- General Bates was once remonstrating 
 with President Lincoln against the appointment of 
 a judicial position of considerable importance of a 
 western man, who though on the “bench,” was of 
 indifferent reputation as a lawyer. 
 
 “Well now. Judge,” returned Mr. Lincoln, “I 
 think you are rather too hard on . Besides that, I 
 
WIT AND WIT 8. 
 
 235 
 
 must tell you, he did me a good turn long ago. 
 When I took to the law, I was walking to court 
 one morning, with some ten or twelve miles of bad 
 
 road before me, when overtook me in his 
 
 wagon. 
 
 ‘Hallo, Lincoln!’ said he; ‘going to the court- 
 house? Come in and I will give you a seat.’ 
 
 “Well, I got in, and went on reading his 
 
 papers. Presently the wagon struck a stump, on 
 one side of the road; then it hopped oh to the 
 other. I looked out and saw the driver was jerk- 
 ing from side to side in his seat : so said I, ‘Judge, 
 I think your coachman has been taking a drop too 
 much this morning.’ 
 
 “Well, I declare, Lincoln,’ said he, ‘I should not 
 much wonder if you are right, for he has nearly 
 upset me half-a-dozen times since starting. So, 
 putting his head out of the window, he shouted, 
 ‘Why you infernal scoundrel^ you are drunl 
 
 “Upon which pulling up his horses and 
 turning round with great gravity, the coachman 
 said ‘Be dad! but that’s the riylitful decision 
 your honor has given, for the last twelve monthsV ” 
 
 PJADIAIPIONS. 
 
 A couple of visitors to the House gallery were 
 trying to pick out their congressman on the floor. 
 
236 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 ‘‘I can’t distinguish him,” said one, after a hopeless 
 visual observationfT^.'if^lDf course not,” was the 
 honest reply, ‘‘he can’t even -distinguish himself.” 
 
 Some Germans in the Fatherland have issued an 
 appeal to Germans beyond the seas for a Universal 
 German Congress, to he held in Berlin, Sept. 13, 
 14, 15, and 16 next, at which the promotion of the 
 intellectual and economical interests of the nation 
 are to be discussed. Applications for attendance 
 and for more ample information may he addressed 
 to the Bureau of the Society for German Coloniza- 
 tion. 
 
 A Kondout (N. Y.) man tells this yarn: He 
 says that he bought some green dye, intending to 
 color some eggs for his children for Easter, and 
 laid the package on a bench in the back yard and 
 forgot about it. When he thought to get it he dis- 
 covered that his hens had eaten most of the dye- 
 stuff. The next day he found three bright-green 
 eggs in the nests ; the next day three more a shade 
 or two lighter; the third, the eggs had just the 
 slightest • tinge of green ; the ' fourth day they re- 
 sumed their normal appearance. 
 
 Gray — And you claim that Black is a total ab- 
 stainer. 
 
 Green — Certainly he is. 
 
tIBRARIf 
 
 OF THE 
 
 U TVER:: .TV CF tlU'"*’''. 
 
'‘THAT LYING OLD THING ! ” 
 
 P. 237. 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 237 
 
 Gray — Come, now, doesn’t ^e keep a drop in the 
 house on the sly? 
 
 Green — No, sir, not a drop. He couldn’t do it 
 without my knowledge. 
 
 Gray — Why not? 
 
 Green — Because my hired man is courting his 
 hired girl, and neither of our families can keep the 
 smallest secret from the other . — Boston Courier. 
 
 A Montana woman had a neighbor woman ar- 
 rested on charge of slander. The trial took place 
 before a Justice of the Peace. The slandered wom- 
 an being duly sworn took the witness-stand and 
 began: “I’ll tell ye in derned few words how it 
 was, Jedge. That lyin’ old thing thar gave it out 
 cold that I wa’n’t no lady^ be gosh! An’ if she or 
 any other old slouch thinks I’m a goin’ to lay low an’ 
 swaller talk of that kind they’re badly left. I’m a 
 lady from ’way back, Jedge, and I’ve got the 
 papers fer it 1 And I kin jist everlastingly lick the 
 
 “Verdict for the defendant!” roared the Judge. 
 — Detroit Free Press. 
 
 The average Congressional statesman is looking 
 for a tariff' policy that will return him to Congress. 
 
 A facetious reader of the Journal calls attention 
 to the fact that Abraham Lincoln made wool free 
 
238 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 when he issued the emancipation proclamation. 
 
 Mexican pulque is a beer made from the juice of 
 a cactus and is sold for one cent a glass. It looks 
 bitter, smell loud, and tastes yellow, but it gets 
 there, all the same. 
 
 A young man who is learning to ride a bicycle 
 sent money to a New York publisher the other day 
 for a book entitled “How to Get On.” When the 
 work arrived he was disgusted to find that it con- 
 tained no instructions for mounting the wheel. — 
 Norvistoivn Herald. 
 
 “Hello,” said a South End youngster to his 
 chum. “Your folks going to move? Ours is.” 
 
 “So’s ours. Had says he won’t live in the old 
 shell any longer.” 
 
 “Mine neither. Where are you going to move?” 
 
 “Into your house. Where are you?” 
 
 “Into your house.” 
 
 “Johnny,” said Mr. McSwilhgen to his youth- 
 ful son and heir last night, “I am sorry to hear from 
 your mother that you have been a very bad hoy.” 
 
 Johnny hung his head and his. father continued: 
 “You got into a fight with Jimmy Jones ‘and he 
 tore your coat and blacked your eye.” 
 
 “Well, I guess I nearly broke his nose. So he 
 didn’t have all the fun,” protested Johnny. 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 239 
 
 must punish you for such conduct,” contin- 
 ued Mr. McSwilligen, as he took a long strap down 
 from the nail. 
 
 “But, father,” said Johnny, “before you strike 
 let’s see if we can’t arbitrate this difficulty.” John- 
 ny was let off that time. ' ^ 
 
 LcINGOLN’S op a y^OUNG liAWYEf? AS 
 
 F)b ©old m TO Gbnbi^al Gai^pibld. 
 
 General Garfield, of Ohio, received from the 
 President the account of the capture of Norfolk 
 with the following preface: “By the way, Gar- 
 field,” said Mr. Lincoln, “y^^^ never heard, did you, 
 that Chase, Stanton, and I, had a campaign of our 
 own? We went down to Fortress Monroe in 
 Chase’s revenue cutter, and consulted with Ad- 
 miral Goldshorough as to the feasibility of taking 
 Norfolk by landing on the north shore and making 
 a march of eight miles. The Admiral said, very 
 positively, there was no landing on that shore, and 
 we should have to double the cape and approach 
 the place from the south side, which would he a 
 long and difficult journey, I thereupon asked him 
 if he had ever tried to find a landing, and he re- 
 plied that he had not. 
 
 “ ‘Now,’ said I, ‘Admiral, that reminds me of a 
 chap out West Avho had studied law, hut had never 
 
no 
 
 THE WORLD^S 
 
 tried a case. Being sued, and not having confi- 
 dence in liis ability to manage liis own case, he 
 employed a fellow-lawyer to manage it for him. 
 He had only a confused idea of the meaning of law 
 terms, hut vas anxious to make a display of learn- 
 ing, and on the trial constantly made suggestions 
 to his lawyer, who paid no attention to him. At 
 last, fearing that his lawyer was not handling the 
 opposing counsel very well, he lost all patience, 
 and, springing to his feet, cried out : “Why don’t 
 you go at him with a cajnas^ or a siirrehidter ^ or 
 something, and not stand there like a confounded 
 old nudum- pactiiinV 
 
 ©HE Umpii^e I?i^obably Oppigiated. 
 
 “We had a diamond wedding down at our house 
 the other day,” said Mrs. Skuse, the boarding- 
 house keeper, to her friend, Mrs. Magufiin. 
 
 “Indeed! You don’t say? It must have been 
 interesting.” 
 
 . “Yes, it was. The first-base man’s sister got 
 married to the short-stop.” 
 
 fl ©ALiPOP^NiA Dog. 
 
 A Truckee (Cal.) dog shuts the door after him 
 when he enters adiouse. This habit served hand- 
 somel}' when he was chased by a mad dog one day. 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 241 
 
 He was in his master’s store and np at the window 
 looking at the mad dog before the latter had re- 
 covered from his surprise at having the door 
 slammed in his face. 
 
 BI^IEP (gOMIGAIiPPIBS. 
 
 Goes without saying — a deaf and dumb man. 
 
 A gushing correspondent says of a literary celeb- 
 rity that “his conversation is full of light.” Poor 
 fellow! he must be lantern-jawed. 
 
 Mr. James McNeill Whistler calls his lectures 
 “Ten o’clocks,” because he delivers them at that 
 hour. Ah, yes! We’ve always understood that 
 Mr. Whistler wasn’t over be nign. 
 
 It was recently decided in a Cincinnati debating 
 society that a man is not necessarily an Irishman 
 because he wears a cork leg. 
 
 The Indians originally owned America, and would 
 still own it if they had gone into the liquor business 
 when the first white men arrived here. 
 
 An exchange has the headhne : “Nigh Time to 
 Eeform.” Not much. Day time for reform and 
 night time for fun. 
 
 16 
 
242 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 A 6-year-old Pittsburg child, being asked, 
 “What is a rope?” replied, “A fat string.” 
 
 Berseker (just from the city) — “Going to make 
 maple sugar, eh? Well, by jolly, I’m just in time^ 
 Er — may I go into the woods and see how it is 
 done?” 
 
 Aunt — “Yes, I guess so.” 
 
 Berseker — “When do you begin at it?” 
 
 Aunt— “Just as soon as your uncle gets back from 
 the village with the glucose.” 
 
 Wit that is quick is not always the best : yet, if 
 a man is on the track in front of an aproaching 
 train it is best to know what to do quick, as there 
 is no time to consult guide books. 
 
 Ponsonby — “I saw you playing billiards last 
 night with Litewaite. How did you come out?” 
 
 Be Guy — “Lost $1,200 on eight games.” 
 
 “Merciful smoke, what a loss!” 
 
 “I should say so : and the worst of it was $2 of 
 it was cash.” 
 
 A Pennsylvanian has patented a milking ma- 
 chine. The best milking machine is a calf. 
 Inventors should turn their attention to a patent 
 for getting the milk out of the calf. 
 
 When some politicians are weighed they are fond 
 wanting — every office in which there is a vacancy. 
 
wrr AND WITS, 
 
 24S 
 
 Sunday-School teacher — Who loves everybody, 
 Johnny? 
 
 Johnny — My pa does, cos he is runnin’ for 
 office. 
 
 England’s puzzle and Pat’s charade: ^‘You 
 rouse my first by asking rent for my second, and 
 my whole is my country” — Ire-land. 
 
 IOAN^FED to It a Sui^e ©hing. 
 
 ‘‘I am a lawyer’s daughter, you know, George, 
 dear,” she said, after George had proposed and had 
 been accepted, “and you wouldn’t think it strange 
 if I were to ask you to sign a little paper to the 
 effect that we are engaged, would you?” 
 
 George was too happy to think anything strange 
 just then, and he signed the paper with a tremb- 
 ling hand and bursting heart. 
 
 Then she laid her ear against his middle vest 
 button and they were very, very happy. 
 
 “Tell me, darling,” said Goorge, after a long, 
 delicious silence, “why did you want me to sign 
 that paper? Do you not respose implicit confi- 
 dence in my love for you?” 
 
 “Ah, yes,” she sighed with infinite content, “in- 
 deed I do; but, George, dear, I have been fooled so 
 many times.” — Life, 
 
244 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 She Inti^oduged r^Ei^SELP* 
 
 The story is told of a prominent lady who is 
 sometimes just a little overbearing to those she 
 considers her inferiors. She lives in a fashionable 
 West-End locality, and seldom takes the street-cars. 
 But she did the other day. On approaching the 
 street near her house she said to the conductor : 
 
 “Stop on this side of the street.” 
 
 The conductor rang the bell, but it was too late, 
 and the car kept on to the opposite corner. She 
 was very indignant, and put her indignation into 
 warm words, winding up with : 
 
 “I’m Mrs. Blank.” 
 
 The conductor, nothing abashed, replied: 
 
 “Glad to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Blank. 
 I’m Tom Jackson.” 
 
 fiN flMUSING SJPOF^Y (sOI^NGEI^NING ©HOMP- 
 
 soN (Campbell. 
 
 Among the numerous visitors on one of the 
 President’s reception days, were a party of Con- 
 gressmen, among whom was the Hon. Thomas 
 Shannon, of California. Soon after the customary 
 greeting, Mr. Shannon said: 
 
 “Mr. President, I met an old friend of yours in 
 California last summer, Thompson Campbell, who 
 had a good deal to say of your Springfield life.” 
 
WIT AND WITS, 
 
 245 
 
 “Ah!” returned Mr. Lincoln, “I am glad to hear 
 of him. Campbell used to be a dry fellow,” he 
 continued. “For a time he was Secretary of State. 
 One day, during the legislative vacation, a meek, 
 cadaverous-looking man, with a white neck-cloth, 
 introduced himself to him at his office, and, stating 
 that he had been informed that Mr. C. had the 
 letting of the Assembly Chamber, said that he 
 wished to secure it, if possible, for a course of lec- 
 tures he desired to deliver in Springfield. 
 
 “ ‘May I ask,’ said the Secretary, ‘what is to be 
 the subject of your lectures?’ 
 
 “ ‘Certainly,’ was the reply, with a very solemn 
 expression of countenance. ‘The course I wish to 
 deliver, is on the Second Coming of our Lord.’ 
 
 “ ‘It is of no use,’ said C. ‘If you will take my 
 advice, you will not waste your time in this city. 
 It is my private opinion that if the Lord has been 
 in Springfield 07 icej He will not come the second 
 time ” 
 
 JPO ©I^OUBIiB POI^ ©HBM. 
 
 A circus was expected at the little village of 
 
 C , and the inhabitants were as wildly excited 
 
 over the event as the inhabitants of small towns 
 usually are. The colored population were particu- 
 larly enthusiastic, but their preacher, the Eev. 
 
246 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 Pete Jefferson, was loud in his exhortations against 
 it. He went so far as to threaten to expel any of 
 his congregation who dared to spend their money 
 in so sinful a way. Strange to relate, when the 
 eventful night arrived the most conspicuous person 
 there was the violent parson. 
 
 “Why, Uncle Pete, what are you doing here?” 
 inquired one of his white friends. 
 
 “Law! Marse Henry, I hates it mightily, sah. 
 But I’s de shepherd, and I’s obliged to look arter 
 my flock. I got my eye on ebery last one oh dose 
 onchristian, pop-eyed niggers, and you see if I 
 don’t make ’em smell fire and brimstone on Sun- 
 day”. 
 
 Stuffing a Fr^sNCHMAN. 
 
 On my return from a visit to the Marquis of 
 Mores- Vallombrosa — whose tribulations with the 
 cowboys were recently narrated by the Figaro — I 
 had one of these “howlers of the prairies” for my 
 fcravehng companion over the Northern Pacific — a 
 superb looking fellow, who was very talkative, un- 
 like most of his fellows. The cold was intense, and 
 the travelers were trying to warm themselves as 
 best as they could around the stove in the centre 
 of the car. Conversation naturally turned upon 
 the weather, and my cowboy began to tell me about 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 247 
 
 a certain atrocious adventure which had happened 
 to him only a few days before. I give it as he re- 
 lated it, without emendation : 
 
 ‘‘I’d gone to see my girl; and the family consisted 
 of the angel herself, and her father, mother, two little 
 brothers, and the Chinee. About 9 o’clock a snow- 
 storm struck the log-house, and the house was 
 soon buried out of sight under the snow. Couldn’t 
 get away. Storm got worse and worse ; kept grow- 
 ing colder all the time; by 11 o’clock the mercury 
 in the thermometer froze. I lay down before the 
 big fireplace with the girl in my arms, trying to 
 keep her warm. At 1 o’clock in the morning we 
 didn’t have anything left to burn, we’d burnt up 
 the chairs, tables, and all the furniture. All at 
 once I saw that my future parents-in-law were 
 frozen stiff. What could I do? I shoved them 
 both into the fire ; and that kept a lively blaze up 
 until 4 a. m. Then it was the turn of the two 
 httle brothers, who served for dog irons to burn the 
 remains of their parents upon.” 
 
 “And your girl?” asked a traveler. 
 
 “0, I kept her in my arms as long as I could; 
 she was too cold and too frightened to bother about 
 her parents ; besides, they had been keeping her from 
 freezing. But the cold, unfortunately, continued, 
 and when everything was burned up I was obliged to 
 shove the poor darling into the fire. Lord forgive 
 
248 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 me ! But she burned fine, I just tell you — she was 
 so nice and fat : and she kept the fire going until 
 evening, and then I was able to get back home.” 
 
 All this was told in the most natural way in the 
 world — I might almost say, without any show of 
 bragging. The travelers, including your humble 
 servant, seemed, however, very uncomfortable at 
 the recital, and that was probably why none of them 
 ventured to ask what had become of the Chinee. 
 — Letter in Paris Figaro. 
 
 Down with the ©yi^ants. 
 
 “Yes,” said he to his neighbor across the fence, 
 “the laboring men are in the right. It was time 
 for them to rise against the tyranny of capital. 
 Down with all tyrants, I say ” 
 
 “John Henry!” shrieked a shrill voice from the 
 kitchen, “are you going to hang out that clothes- 
 line and split that wood and draw that water, or 
 shall I have to come out to you?” 
 
 “Yes, Mirandy,”he answered meekly, “I’m going 
 right about it.” 
 
 She ©oF^r^EGT ©king in Bi^idal Gloves. 
 
 Bertie, aged 9, is a great admirer of athletic 
 sports. His cousin Lizzie, being about to enter 
 the matrimonial estate, a family council was held 
 

 DOWN WITH THE TY RANTS ! 
 
 P. 248. 
 
iff?n.4Rr 
 OF THE 
 OF auro! 
 
WIT AND WITS, 
 
 249 
 
 upon the bridal toilet. Everything had been satis- 
 factorily settled except the gloves, upon which 
 quite a discussion arose. Bertie finally being ap- 
 pealed to rather astonished the meeting by his 
 prompt and emphatic response : Get boxing 
 
 gloves!” 
 
 (3eI^I^OLDIAN ilOI^INGS. 
 
 THE SWEETEST PLUM. 
 
 In all the wedding-cake,, hope is the sweetest of 
 the plums. 
 
 LOVE. 
 
 Love’s like the flies, and, drawing-room or gar- 
 rets, goes aU over the hous^Ar-JJ 
 
 THE CLEAKEST .OF '^ALL LAWS.k* 
 
 Self-defence is the clearest of all laws ; and for 
 this reason — the lawyers didn’t make it. 
 
 BODY AND MIND. 
 
 His body is weak, but his mind tremendous. 
 Yes, a sword — a Damascus blade in a brown paper 
 scabbard. 
 
 DAMP SHEETS. 
 
 To think that two or three yards of damp flax 
 should so knock down the majesty of man ! 
 
 PEKMANENTLY ENLARGED. 
 
 Some years ago London was covered with an- 
 nouncements of the permanent enlargement of the 
 
250 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 Morning Herald. One day Jerrold called at the 
 office, and on seeing the portly figure of Mr. Rodin, 
 the publisher, said, “What, Rodin, you too seem 
 to he permanently enlarged!” 
 
 (©ai^e-Banishbi^s. 
 
 Everything comes to him who waits. The farmer 
 who all through the winter has been wondering 
 what he was going to do with them pesky turnips 
 now finds a ready sale for them to the dealer in 
 pure grated horseradish. 
 
 A committee is discussing the abolition of Greek 
 and Ijatin in Harvard. It is right that those dead 
 and dangerous languages should go, provided the 
 study of ballet-dancing is not made compulsory. 
 
 Now that the country has about celebrated all 
 its centennial anniversaries it will have leisure to 
 celebrate a great number of quarter-centennial an- 
 niversaries of important events in the civil war. 
 
 “Waiter! what’s the matter with this fowl? 
 When I attempt to cut it my knife recoils as it 
 would from a piece of India-rubber!” 
 
 “Hat’s spring chicken, boss.” 
 
 There is nothing in the game of base-ball calcu- 
 lated to bring the blush of shame to the cheek of 
 modesty, unless it is the decisions of the umpire. 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 261 
 
 There are four hundred known ways in which a 
 horse can be unsound, and yet when you buy 0ne 
 you will find a way not yet catalogued. 
 
 Do not send your son to Yale college. Its base- 
 ball club was defeated last week. 
 
 IlINGOLN’S STOI^Y op Sl^EAiPNBSS. 
 
 Mr. Lincoln remarked to his friend: ^‘Great men 
 have various estimates. When Daniel Webster 
 made his tour through the West years ago, he 
 visited Springfield among other places, where great 
 preparations had been made to receive him. As" 
 the procession was going through the town, a bare- 
 footed little darkey boy pulled the sleeve of a man 
 named T., and asked: 
 
 ‘‘ ‘What the folks were all doing down the street?’ 
 
 “ ‘Why, Jack,’ was the reply, ‘the biggest man 
 in the world is coming.’ 
 
 “Now, there lived in Springfield a man by the 
 name of G. — a very corpulent man. Jack darted 
 off down the street, but presently returned, with a 
 very disappointed air. 
 
 “ ‘Well, did you see him?’ required T. 
 
 “ ‘Yes,’ returned Jack; ‘but laws, — he ain’t half 
 fis big as old G.’ ” 
 
262 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 elEF^I^OLiDIANA. 
 
 A MOTTO.' 
 
 Conscious virtue and cold mutton. 
 
 WISHES. 
 
 Wishes at least are the easy pleasures of the 
 poor. 
 
 gold’s powek. 
 
 He who has guineas for his subjects, is the king 
 of men ! 
 
 A MODEL BEGGAR. 
 
 Jerrold was showing ofl the accomplishments of 
 a favorite terrier. 
 
 “Does he beg?” asked a visitor. 
 
 “Beg!” replied Jerrold, “ay, like a prince of the 
 blood!” 
 
 AN attorney’s last HOPE. 
 
 A certain sharp attorney was said to be in bad 
 circumstances. A friend of the unfortunate lawyer 
 met Jerrold, and said, “Have you heard about poor 
 E ? His business is going to the devil.” 
 
 Jerrold replied, “That’s all right then he is 
 
 sure to get it back again.” 
 
 THE DINER-OUT AT HOME. 
 
 A man who enjoyed the reputation of dining out 
 continually, once, late in the evening, joined a 
 party, which included Jerrold. The diner-out 
 threw himself into a chair, and exclaimed with dis- 
 
IT WAS AN EYE-TOOTH THAT BOTHERED HIM. 
 
 P- 254- 
 
lI'JRAWf 
 “ GF THE 
 .-.VEU-TF Of ILLV 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 253 
 
 gust, “Tut! I had nothing but a mutton-chop 
 
 for dinner!” 
 
 Jerrold only said, “Ah! I see, you dined at 
 home.” 
 
 LxINGOLN’S STOI^Y op (3a6I^ (sHASE. 
 
 “In my early days, I knew one Jack Chase, who 
 was a lumberman on the Illinois, and, when steady 
 and sober, the best raftsman on the river. It was 
 quite a trick twenty-five years ago to take the logs 
 over the rapids, but he was skillful with a raft, and 
 always kept her straight in the channel. Finally a 
 steamer was put on, and Jack — he’s dead now, 
 poor fellow ! — was made of hoi’- He always 
 
 used to take the wheel going through the rapids. 
 One day, when the boat was plunging and wallow- 
 ing along the boiling current, and Jack’s utmost 
 vigilance was being exercised to keep her in the 
 narrow channel, a boy pulled his coat-tail and 
 hailed him with : 
 
 “‘Say, Mister Captain! I wish you would just 
 stop your boat a minute — I’ve lost my apple over- 
 board!”’ 
 
 YjE Y}AD fflADB Ho ffllS^PAI^B. 
 
 “I want this tooth pulled. I just can’t stand 
 this any longer.” 
 
254 THE WORTHS 
 
 “But, my dear sir, I am not a dentist.” 
 
 “What in thunder are you?” 
 
 “I am an oculist. I attend to the eyes, not the 
 teeth.” 
 
 “Well, that’s all right. Get to work. This is 
 an eye-tooth that’s bothering Texas Siftings. 
 
 liOOI^ING OUT FOI^ BI^BAI^EI^S — f^OW lilNGOLN 
 ILLUSTI^ATBD IT. 
 
 In a time of despondency, some visitors were 
 telling President Lincoln of the “breakers” so often 
 seen ahead — “this time surely coming.” “That,” 
 said he, “suggests the story of the school-boy, who 
 never could pronounce the names ‘Shadrach,’ 
 ‘Meshach,’ and ‘Abedn,ego.’ He had been repeat- 
 edly whipped for it without effect. Sometime 
 afterwards he saw the names in the regular lesson 
 for the day. - Putting his finger upon the place, he 
 turned to his next neighbor, an older boy, and 
 whispered, ‘Here comes those ^'‘tormented He- 
 hreius'' again!' ” 
 
 Unpoi^tunate. 
 
 De Peyster — Do you smoke? 
 
 New^ Valet— Xo, sir. 
 
 De Peyster — I had hoped you did. I have some 
 new cigarettes and I suspect they are horrid. — 
 Tid-Bits. 
 
UNFORTUNAT E. 
 
 P- 254- 
 
C**" THE 
 
 u.iivEii^ii ir CF au:'ois 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 255 
 
 ©i^APS Set by (^oi^bi^s. 
 
 A chromo is known by the tea it sells. 
 
 Anglomaniacs will not go to any sea-shore place 
 this summer unless there aie crests on the waves. 
 
 Six thousand men in the New York sugar refiner- 
 ies have struck and a great sugar loaf is the result. 
 — Washington Critic. 
 
 A second-lieutenant in the French army is paid 
 $38 per month. It is believed that he generallly 
 boards with his wife’s folks . — Fhiladelvhia Call. 
 
 Every prisoner in the Massachusetts reformatory 
 in Concord has had his allowance of tobacco cut 
 off. It is to be inferred that fer^e^y they used to 
 bite it off. / ■ • 
 
 It is a very certain indication of an approaching 
 rainstorm when some one steals your umbrella off 
 the hat rack. The better the umbrella was the 
 harder the storm is sure to be. 
 
 Ben Butler is keeping mighty quiet these days, 
 but there is a round-shouldered rumor afloat that 
 his eye is searching for the man who hasn’t got a 
 theory as to how the Oregon was sunk. — Tid-Bits. 
 
 It costs so much to bury a congressman appro- 
 priately that one who wants to convince his 
 constituents that he is really in favor of economy 
 
256 
 
 TEE WOELD^S 
 
 should resign before he diie^.—Estelline (D. T.) 
 Bell 
 
 A Denver physician claims to be able to cure 
 drunkenness by inoculation. It is not explained 
 whether he injects an ounce of stiychnine into the 
 patient or locks him up in a whiskey-proof safe for 
 the remainder of his life . — Norristoivn Herald. 
 
 Lceaying the RAr^M. 
 
 “There’s Jim, that boy uv mine, that’s away to 
 school,” said a Dakota settler, “I al’ays counted on 
 makin’ a farmer uv him an’ havin’ him work the old 
 place after I wuz gone, but I guess I can’t.” 
 
 “What is the matter?” 
 
 “Oh, everything. He won’t take no interest in 
 farm work and I can’t learn him nothing. I don’t 
 b’lieve he knows which side to milk a cow on, 
 blamed ef I do!” 
 
 “It must be quite a disappointment for you.” 
 
 “Yes, I should say it wus. But I wuzn’t hardly 
 prepared for what he says in the letter I got terday. 
 Hanged ef I thought he w^ould ever go quite so fur 
 as he has and jist drift right away from everything 
 roorak, as ye might say.” 
 
 “What has he done?” 
 
 “Why, durned ef he don’t write and say that he 
 has decided to quit college and accept a position as 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 257 
 
 edeter uv an angricult’ral paper. Jist think uv a 
 farmer’s son coming to lline {D. T.) 
 
 Bell 
 
 I7BADING f^iM Off. 
 
 ^‘Mr. Featherly,” said Bobby at the dinner table, 
 ‘‘what’s an average?” 
 
 “An average?” 
 
 “Yes. Pa says you come to see sister twice a 
 week on an average.” 
 
 Featherly was very much amused. After ex- 
 plaining to Bobby the meaning of the word, he 
 said: 
 
 “I suppose you thought it was some kind of a 
 carriage, Bobby?” 
 
 “I thought perhaps it might be a bicycle, but I 
 knew it couldn’t be a carriage, because ma says 
 you’re too mean to hire ” 
 
 “Bobby,” interrupted his mother, “will you have 
 another piece of pie?” 
 
 CQadb l7iM Sad to ©hini^ of It. 
 
 Speaking of clergymen reminds me of an incident 
 which happened in one of the divinity schools of 
 this state. One of the worthy professors, a doctor 
 of divinity, had invited a number of the students 
 
 17 
 
258 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 to take tea with him. The invitation was accepted 
 and a very pleasant evening was spent with the 
 professor. \Yhile the company were in the study 
 discussing various subjects the mantel clock struck 
 8. Tlie professor looked up at the timepiece and 
 said, as though reflecting on the uncertainty of 
 human life: “Eight o’clock! How sad it is to 
 think that in an hour the brethren will all be 
 going.” 
 
 The students thought it was sad, but they also 
 concluded that they would have to increase the 
 sadness, and so left at once . — Boston Traveler. 
 
 JjAWYBI^ WHO gf^AGTIGBD BY GAI^. 
 
 Among the friends of Grover Cleveland when he 
 was practicing law in this city was another attor- 
 ney, hut one of rather different stamp than the 
 man of destiny. The friend was a bright fellow, 
 but with the bump of laziness abnormally de- 
 veloped. He was not a well read lawyer, and 
 whenever it was necessary for him to use a deci- 
 sion bearing on any point it was his habit to lounge 
 into Cleveland’s office and casually worm the de- 
 sired information out of his friend’s mental store- 
 house. “Grover” was not so dull as not to 
 appreciate the fact and to resent the sponging — 
 not so much because the process was worthy of 
 
PRACTICE ENTIRELY BY EAR. 
 
 P 259. 
 
UCRARr 
 OF THE 
 
 u.ifVEHi^iTy OF aLir'013 
 
 i. 
 
 1 
 
 4 
 
 i 
 
 i 
 
 J 
 
 s 
 
 1 
 
 t 
 
 i 
 
 ■'X 
 
 '^1 
 
 A 
 
 J 
 
 i 
 
 1 
 
 i 
 
 A 
 
 ■'i 
 
WIT AND WITS, 
 
 259 
 
 that name as because he wished to spur his friend 
 on to more energetic work. 
 
 One day the friend came in on his usual errand, 
 and when Cleveland had heard the preliminaries 
 usual to the pumping process, the latter lold his 
 questioner that he had given him all the informa- 
 tion on law matters that he was going to. 
 
 “There are my books,” said Cleveland, “and 
 you’re quite welcome to use them. You can read 
 up your own cases.” 
 
 ‘‘See here, Grover Cleveland,” said the friend, 
 ‘T want you to understand that I don’t read law. 
 I practice entirely by ear, and you and your books 
 can go to thunder.” — BujfaW’Wcd})ress, 
 
 fl Boy’s Gssay on Columbus. 
 
 THEY WEKE DISCOVEEED AT LAST. 
 
 The following story comes from a school in the 
 midlands : The master told the boys of the third 
 class to write a short essay on Columbus. The 
 following was sent up by an ambitious essayist: 
 “Clumbus was a man who could make an egg stand 
 on end without breaking it. The king of Spain 
 said to Clumbus: ‘Can you discover America?' 
 ‘Yes,’ said Clumbus, ‘if you will give me a ship.’ 
 So he had a ship and sailed over the sea in tlie di- 
 rection where he thought America ought to be 
 
260 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 found. The sailors quarreled and said they believed 
 there was no such place. But after many days the 
 pilot came to him and said: ‘Clumbus, I see land.’ 
 ‘Then that is America,’ said Clumhus. When the 
 ship got near the land was full of black men. 
 Clumhus said: Ts this America?’ ‘Yes, it is,’ 
 said they. Then he said : ‘I suppose you are the 
 niggers?’ ‘Yes,’ they said, ‘we are.’ The chief 
 said: ‘I suppose you are Clumhus.’ ‘You are 
 right,’ said he. Then the chief turned to his men 
 and said: ‘There is no help for it; we are dis- 
 covered at last.’ ” — London Standard. 
 
 ©OMMON Sense. 
 
 The Hon. Mr. Hubbard, of Connecticut, once 
 called upon President Lincoln in reference to a 
 newly invented gun, concerning which a committee 
 had been appointed to make a report. 
 
 The “report” was sent for, and when it came in 
 was found to be of the most voluminous description. 
 Mr. Lincoln glanced at it, and said : “I should want 
 a new lease of life to read this through!” Throw- 
 ing it down upon the table, he added : “Why can’t 
 a committee of this kind occasionally exhibit a 
 grain of common sense? If I send a man to buy a 
 horse for me, I expect him to tell me his points — 
 not how many hairs there are in his tail. 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 261 
 
 I^E gOULDN’iT ©AJFGH ShBM STEALING. 
 
 Two months ago a democrat — an old Irish vet- 
 eran — was appointed to he a watchman in the 
 treasury department. He was assigned to duty at 
 the door of one of the rooms connected with the re- 
 demption division. Every one noticed the alert- 
 ness of the new watchman and the careful scrutiny 
 given by him to the employes as they passed in and 
 out. Last week he took a democratic friend aside 
 and told him that the republicans could not be as 
 had as they had been painted. “I have been here,” 
 said he, “eight weeks and watched every one of ’em 
 like a cat watches a mouse, and devil a one of ’em 
 has been caught stealing a thing.” 
 
 Hot IJoom poi^ So (Cany. 
 
 A little adventure of the Duke de Braganza — 
 the husband of the Princess Amelia of Orleans. 
 
 “I was traveling in Spain,” said the duke, “and 
 had reached a miserable little village. It was 
 1 a. m. Knocking at the only hostelry in the place, 
 a gruff voice called out : 
 
 “Who’s there?” 
 
 “ ‘ Don Alphonse -Eamire - Juan - Pedro-Carlos- 
 Francisque-Dominique de Koxas de Braganza.’ 
 
 “ ‘Drive on,’ was the reply; T can’t accommo- 
 date so many people.’ ” — From the French. 
 
262 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 Y}E 05AS I^ATHEF^ fiBSBNiP-ffllNDBD. 
 
 A curious case of absent-mindedness is that of a 
 young married man living near Jonesville, Saratoga 
 county, who one morning milked his cow, set the 
 pail of milk in the corner of the stable, and carried 
 the stool to the house. This he did twice in suc- 
 cession. The third time he went to the barn to 
 milk he took a basket of roots to the cow. He 
 emptied out the roots and sat down and commenced 
 to milk the cow in the basket, but found out his 
 mistake in time to save enough milk for breakfast 
 coffee. 
 
 F^E ^ANJIIED ^ssisjtange. 
 
 “Hello, I hear you have changed your boarding 
 house,” remarked Ebenezer Jones to Zebedee 
 Smith. “What’s the matter?” 
 
 “Why, the old lady insisted on using baking 
 powder in her biscuits instead of giant powder.” 
 
 “Giant powder in biscuit! Why, you might 
 blow the top of yoim head off!” 
 
 “0, there’s some danger of that, I know; but 
 think of the advantage of having something in the 
 biscuits to assist the teeth in reducing them to 
 digestible fragments .” — Pittsburg Chronicle- Tele- 
 graph. 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 263 
 
 FJAI^E and UALiUABLB I^eligs. 
 
 An esteemed contemporary remarks that the 
 fossils which have recently been dug up in Georgia 
 are supposed to be the remains of Georgians who 
 beheved in paying the state debt. The scarcity of 
 the Virginia article in ages to come will make Vir- 
 ginia remains valuable. 
 
 Eoi^ Sale. 
 
 Councilman — This slanderous talk about corrup- 
 tion in councils ought to be stopped. 
 
 Citizen — Nothing in it, eh? 
 
 ‘‘No, sir! I happen to know every man on my 
 committee intimately, and I will swear that there 
 is not a single one who is for sale.” 
 
 “All been bought, I suppose.” 
 
 05ise, and Pungent Sayings op 
 
 Bench and Bai^. 
 
 The writer remembers hearing of a gentleman 
 who, not wishing to pay the legal and recognized 
 fee for a consultation with his lawyer, devised an 
 expedient whereby he expected to gain the infor- 
 mation he required without the usual cost. He 
 accordingly invited the man “learned in law” to 
 dine at his house on a particular evening as a 
 
264 
 
 THE WOBLD'^S 
 
 friend and old acquaintance. The lawyer gladly 
 accepted the invitation, and attended at the house 
 of his friend and client promptly to the minute. 
 The conversation for some time was very general 
 and agreeable, and the shrewd chent, h}^ hinting 
 and suggesting, at last drew the lawyer out into a 
 learned and explicit dissertation upon the subject 
 the host wished to he informed upon. The chent, 
 pleased, satisfied, and smiling, chuckled in his 
 sleeve, thinking how nicely he had wormed out the 
 advice desired and pumped his lawyer free of cost. 
 
 The feast over, the lawj^er departed, equally 
 pleased, and, both being satisfied, all went merry 
 as a maiTiage-bell. But a few days afterward the 
 chent received a letter from his lawyer informing 
 him that the charge for professional consultation 
 and advice was 13s. 4d., and would he “kindly 
 attend to the payment of same at his earliest con- 
 venience and oblige?” The client was wild — 
 caught in his own trap; hut, being determined to 
 outwit the lawyer and gain liis own ends, he for- 
 warded to the latter a bill for “dinner, wines, and 
 accessories supj)lied,” on the 16th inst., amounting 
 to thirteen shillings and four pence, saying that if 
 he would settle the inclosed hill he should only he 
 too pleased and happy to settle the lawyer’s httle 
 bill. The lawyer retorted by threatening to com- 
 mence an action against mine host for selling vines 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 265 
 
 without a license unless his (the lawyer’s) bill was 
 immediately paid. Do I need to say that the law- 
 yer was victorious? 
 
 When I was a boy I heard of a lawyer who was 
 called up in the middle of a cold winter’s night to 
 draw up the will of an old farmer who lived some 
 three miles away, and who was dying. The mes- 
 senger had brought a cart to convey the lawyer to 
 the farm, and the latter in due time arrived at his 
 destination. When he entered the house he was 
 immediately ushered into the sick-room, and he 
 then requested to he supplied with pen, ink, and 
 paper. There were none in the house. The law- 
 yer had not brought any himself, and what was he 
 to do? Any lead pencil? he inquired. No; they 
 had none. The farmer was failing fast, though 
 quite conscious. At last the legal gentleman saw 
 chalked up on the back of the bed-room door col- 
 umn upon column of figures in chalk. These were 
 milk ‘^scores” or shots.” He immediately asked 
 for a piece of chalk, and then, kneeling on the floor, 
 he wrote out concisely upon the smooth hearth- 
 stone the last will and testament of the dying man. 
 The farmer subsequently died. The hearth-stone 
 will was sent to the principal registry in London, 
 with special aflidavit, and was duly proved, the 
 will being deposited in the archives of the registry. 
 
266 
 
 THE W0BLH8 
 
 I may mention that the law does not state upon 
 what substance or with what instrument a will 
 must be written. 
 
 There w^as once a plain, outspoken Judge, who, 
 addressing the jury, said: “Gentlemen of the jury, 
 in this case the counsel on both sides are unintelli- 
 gible, the witnesses on both sides are incredible, 
 and the plaintiff and defendant are both such bad 
 characters that to me it is indifferent which way 
 you give your verdict.” 
 
 It w^as once reported to the notorious Judge Jeff- 
 ries that the Prince of Orange was on the point of 
 entering into the country, and that he was already 
 preparing a manifesto as to his inducements and 
 objects in so doing. “Pray, my Lord Chief- Justice,” 
 said a gentleman present, “what do you think wdll 
 be the heads of this manifesto?” “Mine will be 
 one,” he grimly replied. 
 
 An undoubted alibi was some time ago success- 
 fully proven in an American court, as folio w^s : 
 
 “And you say you are innocent of the charge of 
 stealing this rooster from Mr. Jones?” queried the 
 Judge. 
 
 “Yes, sir; I am innocent — as innocent as a 
 child.” 
 
 “You are confident you did not steal the roostei 
 from Mr. Jones?” 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 
 ^‘Yes, sir; and I can prove it.” 
 
 “How can you prove it?” 
 
 “I can prove that I didn’t steal Mr. Jones’ roos- 
 ter, Judge, because I stole two hens from Mr. 
 Graston the same night, and Jones lives five miles 
 from Graston’s.” 
 
 . “The proof is conclusive,” said the Judge; “dis- 
 charge the prisoner.” 
 
 “Gentlemen of the jury,” said an Irish barrister, 
 “it will be for you to say whether this defendant 
 shall be allowed to come into court with unblush- 
 ing footsteps, with the cloak of hypocrisy in his 
 mouth, and draw three bullocks out of my client’s 
 pocket with impunity.” — Chambers' Journal. 
 
 funny (iAPBI^S. 
 
 A hght beverage — moonshine whisky. 
 
 A kite ought to be made of fly-paper. — Philadel- 
 pliia • Call. 
 
 A pressing need in the interest of economy is a 
 bustle that can, when not in use, be converted into 
 a fire-escape. — Philadelphia Herald. 
 
 “It’s a very funny thing,” remarked Bass medi- 
 tatively. “I sat by the river all day with bated 
 breath and never caught a thing.” — The Rambler . 
 
268 
 
 THE W0BLH8 
 
 Ex- King Theban of Burmah is said to have been 
 an expert poker-player. This seems very probable. 
 A man who always has four queens ought to be an 
 expert at poker, if he is at any game. 
 
 An exchange heads a column of leaded type: 
 “Great Excitement in Texas.” We can’t imagine 
 what could have caused it, unless the authorities 
 happened to catch a murderer or something of that 
 sort. This explanation, however, lacks probabihty. 
 
 The landlord of a summer hotel is to have an 
 arctic room in his house. All the walls will be 
 covered with ice scenes and the ceiling will glisten 
 with the effect of dependent icicles. Those who have 
 seen the plan say that it reminds one of a church 
 social . — Boston Transcript. 
 
 iNTEI^r^UPTED. 
 
 Maud (outside) — Is papa in there with you, 
 George ? 
 
 George — Yes, Miss Maud, would you like to see 
 him? 
 
 Maud — Please ask him for me — 
 
 George — I w^as on the point of doing so when 
 you interrupted. 
 
 Papa — Bless you, my children. — Tid-Bits. 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 269 
 
 LilNGOLiN’S ©ONPAB WITH A ©OMMITTEB ON 
 ''GI^ANT'S 
 
 Just previous to the fall of Vicksburg, a self- 
 constituted committee, solicitous for the morale 
 of our armies, took it upon themselves to visit the 
 President and urge the removal of General Grant. 
 
 In some surprise Mr. Lincoln inquired, “For 
 what reason?” 
 
 “Why,” replied the spokesman, “he drinks too 
 much whisky.” 
 
 “Ah!” rejoined Mr. Lincoln, dropping his lower 
 lip. “By the way, gentlemen, can either of you 
 tell me where General Grant procures his whisky ? 
 because, if I can find out, I will send every general 
 in the field a barrel of it F' 
 
 Lots op Fun with a Foui^-In-F)and. 
 
 “Do you dwive youah faw-in-hand this spwing, 
 Pooler?” 
 
 “Of cawse I do. What’s the use of having a 
 faw-in-hand if you don’t dwive it, eh?” 
 
 “I don’t know, I’m shuah. What the dooce is 
 the use of having a faw-in-hand, anyhow?” 
 
 “Why, my deah hoy, it’s lots of first-claws fun 
 having the girls supplicate you faw a wide, and 
 liaving youah photogwaph taken on the box, don’t 
 chew know, in all youah spwing toggawy.” 
 
m 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 “But isn’t it howible dangawous?” 
 
 “Not a bit. I only wan ovab six people lawst 
 yeab, and not one of tbem died eitbaw.” 
 
 OVBI^ IPHB liABOI^ ©I^OUBLBS. 
 
 Tramp — You see, your honor, these labor 
 troubles 
 
 Judge — Nonsense! Labor has never troubled 
 you any. 
 
 Tramp — It has troubled me day and night for 
 years, your honor. 
 
 Judge — At night? 
 
 Tramp — Yes. I lay awake at nights studying 
 bow to avoid work. 
 
 Judge — I’ll spare you that loss of sleep for ninety 
 days. 
 
 Y)E Wouldn’t F^blp Doing Im. 
 
 A barber who had called to shave a gentleman 
 who had just died, said, as be began operations: 
 “Do de razor hurt yo’, sab?” Then he tried to 
 sell bis customer a bottle of hair elixir, and as he 
 removed the towel at the finish be shouted “Next 1” 
 and be didn’t mean anything wrong, either. Simply 
 from force of habit. Dynamite wouldn’t get some 
 men out of a rut. 
 
WORRIED OVER LABOR TROUBLES. 
 
 P. 270. 
 
tlBRARY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 u.rivFR^ify OF (tu.'ois 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 271 
 
 SUPPBI^ING PI^OM .IIIHB ©HINBSB BOYGO^JP. 
 
 A tramp recently stopped at a house near Chico 
 and asked for something to eat. ^^No,” said the 
 proprietor, “I cannot give you anything. I have 
 discharged my Chinaman and my wife has to do 
 the cooking. I used to feed tramps, but it is all my 
 wife can do now to cook for the family.” 
 
 And the tramp mournfully moved on, wondering 
 to himself whether boycotting was a good thing 
 after all . — Chico {Cal.) Enterprise. 
 
 Op ©oui^se OuB. 
 
 Well-Meaning Citi^en-^Now, Pat, ^ou see what 
 disgrace these low politicians have brought on the 
 city. Why don’t you cast your vote for" honest, 
 respectable, solid men? Now, if Mr. Eutherford 
 Stuyvesant were put up in your district would you 
 vote for him? 
 
 Patrick — Stoyversant, soor? Where does he 
 kape his saloon? 
 
 fflBI^BLY A fflAriUPBI^ OP BOSINBSS. 
 
 Citizen — Just think of the deception practiced 
 every day. Why, it’s dreadful. Now, if you could 
 make $150 by c. lie, your sense of honor wouldn’t 
 allow you to do it, would it, Washington Jackson? 
 
2Y2 
 
 THE WORLD'' S 
 
 Washington Jackson — Dunno, boss — dunno. 
 Seems to me dat am a matter of bisness wbarin 
 honor ain’t got nuffin to say. Say, boss, who’s de 
 man wid de $150. 
 
 P LcESSON. 
 
 Experienced Tramp (to novice) — Now, Bill, 
 time’s money in this business same’s any other. 
 
 Novice — Yes? 
 
 Experienced Tramp — An’ so, when you strikes a 
 man on the street, an’ he stops an’ says “-Sir,” an’ 
 is werry polite, don’t try to work him fur nuthin, 
 cos you’ll not get it. Drap him to oncet. 
 
 ffliNNEHAHA AND ffliNNEBOOHOO 1 
 
 0 
 
 Some gentlemen fresh from a Western tour, 
 during a call at the White House, referred in the 
 course of conversation to a body of water in Ne- 
 braska, which bore an Indian name signifying 
 “weeping water. ” Mr. Lincoln instantly responded : 
 “As Taughing water,’ according to Longfellow, is 
 Minnehaha,’ this evidently should he ‘Minneboo- 
 hoo.’ ” 
 
 She Didn’ih Lh^e ithe S^pyle. 
 
 “Ah, Miss Amy,” remarked young Fitzpercy 
 during a call last night, “have you seen Chopin’s 
 A-fiat polonaise?” 
 
A PRIMARY LESSON. 
 
 P. 272. 
 
K.;'vr 
 
 JC IH£ 
 
 ‘•->Ty onumr. 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 “Aflat polonaise!” replied Amy. “No, and • 
 don’t think that kind of a polonaise would ever b( 
 fashionable.” 
 
 noTBs ON Some Spiking Styles. 
 
 • THE ladies’ FAVOKITE BONNET AND HOSIERY THE SMALL 
 
 DOG WORN IN SHADES TO MATCH THE COSTUME 
 
 PREVAILING FASHIONS FOR GENTLEMEN. 
 
 BILL NYE. 
 
 It is customary at this season of the year to poke 
 fun at the good clothes of our friends and well- 
 wishers, the ladies, but it occurs to me that this 
 spring there is a very sn^IFdi^ld for the witty and 
 sarcastic critic of ^ female attire-. >There has not 
 been a time since I first began to make a study of 
 this branch of science when the ladies seem to have 
 manifested better taste or sounder judgment in the 
 matter of dress. 
 
 Even bonnets seem to be less grotesque this 
 season than heretofore, although the high, startled 
 bonnet, the bonnet that may be characterized as 
 the excelsior bonnet, is still retained by some, 
 though how it is retained has always been a mys- 
 tery to me. Perhaps it holds its place in society by 
 means of a long, black pin, which apparently passes 
 
 through the brain of the wearer. 
 
 18 
 
274 
 
 THE WOBLHS 
 
 Black hosiery continues to be very popular, I ani 
 informed. Sometimes it is worn clocked, and then 
 again it is worn crocked. The crockless black 
 stocking is gaining in favor in our best circles, I 
 am pleased to note. Nothing looks more mortified 
 than a foot that has been inside of a crockable 
 
 g 
 
 stocking all through a long, hot, summer day. 
 
 I am very glad to notice that the effort made a 
 few years ago by a French reformer to abolish the 
 stocking on the ground of unhealthfulness has met 
 with well-merited failure. The custom of wearing 
 hosiery is one that does great credit to the spirit of 
 American progress, which cannot be thwarted by 
 the puny hand of foreign interference or despotic 
 intervention. 
 
 Street costumes of handsomely fitting and unob- 
 trusive shades of soft and comfortable goods will 
 be generally in favor, and the beautiful and sym- 
 metrical American arm with a neatly fitting sleeve 
 on the outside of it will gladden the hearts of the 
 casual spectator once more. 
 
 The lady with the acute elbow and the itahcized 
 clavicle will make a strong effort this season to 
 abolish the close-fitting and extremely attractive 
 sleeve, but it will be futile. 
 
 The small dog will be ^vorn this season in shades 
 to match the costume. For dark and brown com- 
 binations in street dresses the black-and-tan dog 
 
tf/r AND WITS. 
 
 275 
 
 will be very much in favor, while the black- an d- 
 drah pug will he affected by those wearing these 
 shades in dress. Small pugs that are warranted 
 not to bag at the knees are commanding a good 
 price. Spitz dogs to match lynx or fox trimmed 
 garments or spring wraps are now being sprinkled 
 with camphor and laid aside for the summer. 
 Coach dogs of the spotted variety will be worn 
 with polka-dot costumes. Tall, willowy hounds 
 with wire tails will be much affected by slender 
 young ladies and hydrophobia. Antique dogs with 
 weak eyes, asthma, and an air of languor will be 
 used a great deal this season to decorate lawns and 
 railroad crossings. Young dogs that are just bud- 
 ding into doghood will be noticed through the 
 spring months trying their new teeth on the light 
 spring pantaloons of male pedestrians. 
 
 Styles in gentlemen’s clothing have not materi- 
 ally changed. Lavender pantaloons, with an air of 
 settled melancholy and benzine, are now making 
 their appearance, and young men trying to eradi- 
 cate the droop in the knees of last summer’s gar- 
 ment may be seen in their luxurious apartments 
 most any calm spring evening. 
 
 An old nail-brush, with a solution of ammonia 
 and prussic acid, will remove traces of custard pie 
 from light shades in pantaloons^ This preparation 
 will also remove the pantaloons. 
 
276 
 
 THE WOBLHS 
 
 The umbrella will be worn over the shoulder and 
 in the eye of the passing pedestrian, very much as 
 usual on pleasant days, and left behind the door in 
 a dark closet on rainy days. 
 
 Gentlemen will wear one pocket-handkerchief in 
 the side pocket, with the corner gently emerging, 
 and another in the hip pocket, as they did last sea- 
 son, the former for decorative purposes and the 
 latter for business. This is a wise provision and 
 never fails to elicit favorable comment. 
 
 The custom of wearing a few kernels of roasted 
 coffee or a dozen cloves in the little cigarette 
 pocket of the cutaway coat will still continue, and 
 the supply will be replenished between the acts, as 
 heretofore. 
 
 Straw hats will be chased down the streets this 
 spring by the same gentlemen who chased them 
 last spring, and in some instances the same hats 
 will be used. Shade trees will he worn a little 
 lower this summer, and will therefore succeed in 
 wiping off a larger crop of plug hats, it is hoped. 
 Linen dusters, with the pockets carefully soldered 
 together, have not yet made their appearance. 
 
 Light and Less Hoise. 
 
 An editorial, in a New York journal, opposing 
 Lincoln’s re-nomination, is said to have called out 
 from him the following story : A traveler on the 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 277 
 
 frontier found liimself out of liis reckoning one 
 night in a most inhospitable region. A terrific 
 thunder-storm came up, to add to his trouble. He 
 floundered along until his horse at length gave out. 
 The lightning afforded him the only clew to his 
 way, but the peals of thunder were frightful. One 
 bolt, which seemed to crash the earth beneath him, 
 brought him to his knees. By no means a pray- 
 ing man, his petition was short and to the point — 
 “0 Lord, if it is all the same to you, give us a little 
 more light and a little less noiseW 
 
 It I7AD Bui^ned Long Gnough, 
 
 “John, it is quite dim in this room. What is 
 the matter?” 
 
 “I don’t know; I lit the gas half an hour ago 
 and it should have made plenty of light by this 
 this . ” — Merchant Traveler. 
 
 ^ Hew Fashion. 
 
 “Coming to Dobbs’s wedding to-night?” 
 
 “Sorry, but — well, the fact is I haven’t the 
 clothes.” 
 
 “Nonsense! Your trousers and shoes will do, 
 and I’ll loan you a coat and vest. That’s all you 
 need.” 
 
 “Is that so? When did the swells quit wearing 
 sliirts ?” — Philadelphia Call. 
 
THE WORLD'^B 
 
 ^ Simple Ballad. 
 
 I love to get up in the mom, 
 
 When all is bright and fair, 
 
 And neatly mend my trousers torn. 
 That lie upon a chair. 
 
 I love to sew the buttons on 
 The neck-band of my shirt ; 
 
 I love to rub benzine upon 
 My garments soiled with dirt. 
 
 I love to hunt around the room 
 For things the chambermaid 
 
 Has swept away with ruthless broom, 
 
 • And burned up, I’m afraid. 
 
 # 
 
 O 
 
 I love to eat my frugal meals 
 At a cheap restaurant. 
 
 Where, notwithstanding my appeals, 
 I can’t get what I want. 
 
 I love to go to bed at two. 
 
 Get up again at eight. 
 
 And know that no one cares a sou 
 Why I was out so late. 
 
 I love all other things above. 
 
 When I’m asleep, to snore — 
 
 In short, kind friends, I dearly love 
 To be a bachelor. 
 
“I DEARLY LOVE TO BE A BACHELOR. 
 
 P. 278. 
 
tfrfWFT 
 
 OF TKE 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 279 
 
 - One op Ijingoln’s Di^ollei^ies. 
 
 During the Eebellion an Austrian Count applied 
 to President * Lincoln for a position in the army. 
 Being introduced by the Austrian Minister, he 
 needed, of course, no further recommendation; 
 but, as if fearing that his importance might not be 
 duly appreciated, he proceeded to explain that he 
 was a Count ; that his family were ancient and 
 highly respectable; when Lincoln, with a merry 
 twinkle in his eye, tapping the aristocratic lover of 
 titles on the shoulder, in ^,f^tt\erly way, as if the 
 man had confessed to some wrong, interrupted in a 
 soothing tone, “Never ‘Mihd ; you ‘shlfll be treated 
 with just as much consideration for all that?” 
 
 f)E WAS SEI^r^IBLY Dl^Y, 
 
 AND THE INNOCENT DRUGGIST’s CLERK ACCOMMODATED 
 HIM WITH A DRINK. 
 
 A certain south side druggist whose anterior 
 name is Frederick has that fact displayed on the 
 sign that hangs over the store entrance. Early 
 one morning last week while the clerk was busily 
 engaged with his duster a seedy-looking individual 
 entered the store. 
 
 “Good morning,” he said, cheerily. “Is Fred 
 in?” 
 
280 
 
 THE WORLD'^S 
 
 “No,” replied the clerk, “it’s too early for him. 
 He won’t show np until 9 o’clock.” 
 
 “That so?” returned the other, in a disappointed 
 tone. “Just my luck.” 
 
 “Anything I can do for you?” inquired the clerk. 
 
 “No, I want to see Fred; he’s an old friend of 
 mine;” and he turned as though to leave the store. 
 He took a few steps toward the door, but returned 
 and, with a confidential air, approached the clerk 
 and said, in a winning frankness of tone : 
 
 “To tell you the truth, I’ve been on a toot for 
 several days past, and I’m broke. My head feels 
 like a three-story-and-basement building and my 
 mouth feels as though I had been eating flannel. 
 I came in here to get a drink, as I knew Fred 
 would give it to me if he was in. Can’t you let 
 me have a little whisky?” 
 
 “I guess so,” said the clerk, and as he disap- 
 peared behind the prescription-case he began to 
 chuckle, and a look of malicious mischief settled 
 on his features. 
 
 “Same old game,” he muttered, picking up a 
 glass; “I’ll get even with this fellow; he don’t 
 know Fred from a porous-plaster; saw the name 
 above the door,” and he began to pour liquids from 
 various bottles into the glass, stopping every little 
 while to enjoy the anticipated delight that con- 
 sumed him. Stepping from behind the case he 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 281 
 
 innocently asked his victim if he would have a 
 little peppermint in his. The victim did not care 
 if he did. 
 
 By this time the clerk had compounded a mix- 
 ture of gentian, cayenne pepper, quinine, and pep- 
 permint, which he handed the tramp with gentle 
 solicitude, and then, with a fiendish glee marking 
 his countenance, watched him gulp it down with 
 eager thirst. Slowly a look of intense disgust and 
 nausea spread over the face of the victim, and then 
 with his hands pressed tightly against his vest 
 pockets he turned and fled, while the heartless 
 clerk fell up against the counter in an ecstasy of 
 laughter. 
 
 lilNGOIiN ON ©I^ITIGISM AND BUlili- 
 
 Rf^ogs. 
 
 Concerning criticism. President Lincoln told a 
 friend this story: 
 
 “Some years ago a couple of ‘emigrants,’ fresh 
 from the ‘Emerald Isle,’ seeking labor, were making 
 their way toward the West. Coming suddenly 
 one evening upon a pond of water, they were 
 greeted with a grand chorus of bull-frogs — a kind 
 of music they had never before heard. ‘B-a-u-m! 
 — B-a-u-m !’ 
 
 “Overcome with terror, they clutched their ‘shil- 
 lelahs,’ and crept cautiously forward, straining their 
 
282 
 
 THE WORTH 8 
 
 eyes in every direction to catch a glimpse of the 
 enemy ; hut he was not to be found 1 
 
 “At last a happy idea seized the foremost one — 
 he sprang to his companion and exclaimed, hAnd 
 sure, Jamie I it is my opinion it’s nothing hut a 
 'noise!' ” 
 
 OVEI^ THE I^IYEI^. 
 
 The hours creep by on leaden feet. 
 
 And all the day is long to me. 
 
 I drink the hitter with the sweet — 
 
 Things are not as they used to he. 
 
 It’s lonesome living on this way 
 Since iiapa went to Canada. 
 
 Good sooth, he did not want to go, 
 
 He told me, when he said good-by. 
 
 He had the hoodie witli him, so 
 
 Tliey could not find it should they try. 
 Then in a hurried sort of way 
 Poor papa went to Canada. 
 
 His place is empty on the board. 
 
 At home we see his vacant chair; 
 
 And we, alas, seem quite ignored 
 Because he’s neither here nor there. 
 There is no place to go or stay 
 Since papa went to Canada. 
 
 — Brooklyn Eagle. 
 
WIT AND WITS, 
 
 283 
 
 fl fflOMAN’S I^BASON. 
 
 A woman had been brought into court charged 
 with attempting to poison her husband. 
 
 The Magistrate — Have you anything to offer in 
 your defense?” 
 
 She (in a hesitating voice) — Y e e s, your honor. 
 My friends were all the time telling me how well I 
 would look in black. 
 
 (sONGBi^NiNG Fanny and Fi^angbs. 
 
 Harrisville girls read in the Alcona County Beview 
 that girls desiring to have small mouths should 
 frequently repeat rapidly, “Fanny Finch fried five 
 flounder fish for Frances Fowler’s father.” They 
 have formed societies, and are now repeating the 
 quotation in concert. They hope to get their 
 mouths small enough to be kissed. 
 
 Y}B U3AS ©00 INQUISITIVB. 
 
 “Died of curiosity,” was the verdict of an Ari- 
 zona coroner. 
 
 “Died of curiosity?” incredulously exclaimed a 
 bystander. 
 
 “Yes, the dum fool. He wanted to see how 
 Kedheaded Jimmie would act if he called him a 
 liar. He found out. Poor fellow! There’s lots 
 as die of curiosity out here.” — The Bamhler. 
 
284 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 By iiihe Sea. 
 
 Last year we paced the yellow sands 
 Beside the restless sea ; 
 
 I held in mine ^mnr tiny hands 
 And drew you close to me, 
 
 I marked your blushes come and go 
 The sigh, the smile, the tear: 
 
 The words you whispered soft and low 
 Were music in mine ear. 
 
 We two were dreaming Love's young dream 
 Besides the murmuring sea ; 
 
 Your j^resence made the whole earth seem 
 A paradise to me ; 
 
 We said our love would never change. 
 Would no abatement know 
 
 While life should last — it seems so strange 
 ’Twas just a year ago. 
 
 Once more we pace the yellow sands 
 Beside the summer sea ; 
 
 I do not hold your tiny hands. 
 
 You do not cling to me; 
 
 I do not press you to my heart 
 And kiss your snowy brow — ^ 
 
 We’re strolhng twenty yards apaid, 
 
 For we are married now. 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 286 
 
 Oh, poi^ a CQanI 
 
 Oh, for a man ! the clear voice sang, 
 
 And through the church the echo rang. 
 
 Oh, for a man! she sang again — 
 
 How could such sweetness plead in vain? 
 
 The bad boy grinned across the aisles. 
 
 The deacon’s frowns were changed to smiles. 
 The singer’s cheek turned deepest pink 
 At base and tenor’s wicked wink. 
 
 The girls that bore the alto part 
 
 Then took the strain with all their heart ; 
 
 Oh, for a man, a man, a man — 
 
 And then the full voiced choir began 
 
 To sing with all their might and main 
 The finis to the girl’s refrain : 
 
 Oh, for a mansion in the skies, 
 
 A man — a mansion in the skies. — Judge. 
 
 FJbad; ©hen Sim ROI^ a Sig^tui^b. 
 
 [lime kiln club.j 
 
 “I has been walkin’ ’round on top dis airth 
 mighty nigh my alloted time,” said Brother Gard- 
 ner as the band ceased playing, “and yit some 
 things are jist as much a mystery to me as when I 
 was 20. 
 
286 
 
 TEE WORLES 
 
 “How does it happen dat de folkses who am head- 
 ober-heels in debt put on de moas’ style? 
 
 ‘‘Why am it dat de man wid a head full of brains 
 mus’ play second-fiddle to a monkey wid a pocket- 
 ful o’ money? 
 
 “How does it come, dat while we purfess to lub 
 our nabor, nuthin’ tickles us mo’ dan to h’ar he has 
 received a set-back and mus’ take a cheaper house? 
 
 “How am it dat de man wid de biggest di’mun 
 pin, an’ de woman wid de moas’ real lace on her 
 dress, git shet of deir counterfeit nickels sooner 
 dan anybody else? 
 
 “Show me a party of fifty pussons gwine to make 
 a trip to Yurup, an’ I’ll pint out thirtyfive who am 
 stayin’ ofi creditors to do it. 
 
 “We complain dat servant gals doan’ know deir 
 duties, an’ we eddicate our darters to ignore house- 
 work as beneaf ’em. De hired gals of the next 
 ginerashun won’t be to blame if dey mix bread in 
 de bath-tub an’ mash ’taters wid a beer bottle. 
 
 “When de preacher gits up in de pulpit an’ 
 splains dat de African heathen am pinin’ fur tracks 
 an’ Bibles we shell out de cash wid hot fingers. 
 When de widder calls at de front doah to inform 
 us dat her chill’en am cold and hungry an’ ragged, 
 we keep de cash keerfully salted down, an’ won- 
 der if an autograph album wouldn’t help de fam’ly 
 to pull frew. 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 m 
 
 ‘‘Seems to me, as I lean on de fence an" look 
 ober de landscape, dat a good sheer of dis world am 
 wrong eand to. De shine of brass keetches de eye 
 whar’ silver am unnoticed. A loud voice gathers 
 a crowd sooner dan sweet song. Society demands 
 a dress coat an’ a white shirt, an’ if dat demand am 
 satisfied nobody will ax de wearer whether he has 
 bin in state prison or de State Legislachur! Let 
 us now purceed to dispatch de routine bizness of 
 de eavenin’.” 
 
 Lincoln’s Sjpoi^y op Sallib O^Af^D’s ©i^ag- 
 TiCAL Philosophy. 
 
 When the telegram from Cumberland Gap 
 reached Mr. Lincoln that “firing was heard in the 
 direction of Knoxville,” he remarked that he “was 
 glad of it.” Some person present, who had the 
 perils of Burnside’s position uppermost in his mind, 
 could not see ivhy Mr. Lincoln should be glad of 
 it, and so expressed himself. 
 
 “Why, you see,” responded the President, “it 
 reminds me of Mrs. Sallie Ward, a neighbor of 
 mine, who had a very large family. Oceasionally 
 one of her numerous progeny would be heard cry- 
 ing in some out-of-the-way place, upon which Mrs. 
 Ward would exclaim: 
 
 ^There's one of viy children that isn't dead, yetd ” 
 
THE ^VORLHS 
 
 
 Seen Y } E ^ Best Days. 
 
 A Chicago man, wlio has recently returned from 
 Europe, was asked what he thought of Kome. 
 
 “Well,” he replied, “Eome is a fair-sized towm, 
 but I couldn’t help hut think wEen I w^as there 
 that she had seen her best days.” 
 
 Fi^ivoLous Ghost. 
 
 The ghost in the “Corsican Brothers, ’’now being 
 played in Xew Orleans, walks around with gold 
 sleeve buttons, which creole audiences think rather 
 an innovation on the established custom of ghosts. 
 
 It Gould Go Out. 
 
 “How I envy the sitting-room fire,” sighed the 
 new girl to Mrs. Frizzletop. 
 
 “And why, pray?” asked her mistress. 
 
 “Because it is allowed to go out these lovely 
 afternoons.” 
 
 fiN Gppegtiye Sapeguaj^d. 
 
 “I’m afraid w^e shan’t have" this compartment to- 
 ourselves any longer, Janet.” 
 
 “Oh, it’s all right, aunty, darhng. If you put ’ 
 your head out of the window, I daresay nobody 
 will come in!” — Punch. 
 
IT COULD GO OUT 
 
 [>. 288. 
 
tnnuiRV 
 
 OF THE • 
 
 u.itvERsrry of iuiKor. 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 289 
 
 One op Lcingoln’s Iiast Stoi^ibs. 
 
 One of the last stories heard from Mr. Lincoln 
 was concerning John Tyler, for whom it was to be 
 expected, as an old Henry Clay Whig, he would 
 entertain no great respect. year or two after 
 Tyler’s accession to the Presidency,” said he, ‘‘con- 
 templating an excursion in some direction, his son 
 went to order a special train of cars. It so hap- 
 pened that the railroad superintendent was a very 
 strong Whig. On ‘Bob’s’ making known his errand, 
 that official bluntly informed him that his road did 
 not run any special trains for the President. 
 
 “ ‘What!’ said ‘Bob,’ ‘dp^V^Sh not furnish a 
 special train for the fUfUeral^Qf General garrison?’ 
 
 “Yes,’ said the superintendent, stroking his whis- 
 kers ; ‘and if you will only bring your father here in 
 that shape, you shall have the best train on the 
 road!’ ” 
 
 ©HE Sl^ADUATE. 
 
 He could quote from musty pages, delve in geo- 
 logic ages, and relaxed himself in synthesis 
 and such; 
 
 Could construct an exegesis, startle with a subtle 
 thesis, and involve a tortured subject over- 
 much. 
 
 19 
 
290 
 
 THE WORLHS 
 
 He was great in mathematics, as applied to hydros 
 statics, or eternal evolution of the spheres ; 
 
 His chronology was reckoned from the minimum 
 of second to the undiscovered maximum of 
 years. 
 
 He was constantly amazing with philology and 
 phrasing, with vocabulistic plenitude and ease ; 
 
 He was by his fellows quoted, as a lexicon is noted, 
 his attainments were superlative degrees. 
 
 On commencement his oration was received with 
 an ovation, oh! his temporary glory was im- 
 mense. 
 
 While the complimenting flowers fell around in 
 fragrant showers, and the fever of the moment 
 was intense. 
 
 (sAPEr^S OP JTHB fflUSES. 
 
 “0 where are you going, my pretty maid?” 
 
 “I’m going a-chestnuting, sir,” she said. 
 
 And she spoke sober truth, in sooth, for lo ! 
 
 She had a ticket for the minstrel show. 
 
 — The Judge. 
 
 "When the c}unbals and the castanets commence 
 To dehght the ra\dshed ear of waking sense. 
 
 Then remember serenading 
 - Is a scheme for larder raiding. 
 
 And your pantry shelves wiU sufier the expense. 
 
 — Neiv York World. 
 
WIT AND WITS, 
 
 . 291 
 
 Now the birds sing on the maple limb, 
 
 The sweet hyacinth begins to sprout ; 
 
 And the rash small boy goes in to swim, 
 
 And gets his shirt on wrong side out. 
 
 — Norristoivn Herald. 
 
 ‘‘Farewell, kind friends,” he sadly said. 
 
 And bitter tears of anguish shed. 
 
 “Let us refuse to think of pain, 
 
 And fondly hope to meet again ; 
 
 Farewell ! I go at duty’s call. 
 
 As umpire in a game of ball.” — Tid-Bits. 
 
 Soon the golden woodbine will blossom on the 
 porch. 
 
 And then the gladioli be burning like a torch. 
 White clouds will float serenely adown the turquoise 
 sky. 
 
 And from the spry poundmaster will scoot the old 
 ki-yi. 
 
 The Chinese minister, Chang Yen Woon, 
 A genuine blood of the great tycoon. 
 
 Is a mandarin of the second degree. 
 
 Who lives on the river Yang T-Sie. 
 
 Six years collector for old San Tung, 
 
 He carried the deestrict by the bung. 
 
 And leaving finally Foo Che Foo, 
 
 He became collector down at Wu Hu. 
 
m 
 
 THE ^WORLHS 
 
 He served a term at this, and then 
 They made him a judge across at Wa Hen. 
 
 A merry old rooster then was he, 
 
 This mandarin of the second degree. 
 
 Thence to Pekin as Tsung Li Youk, 
 
 Where he put on the style of a royal dook ; 
 Anon we’ll see him very soon 
 As U. S. Minister Chang Yen Woon. 
 
 — Washington Critic. 
 
 Small boy; 
 
 Bright dreams; 
 
 Much joy; 
 
 Quiet stream. 
 
 Great delight 
 Seizes him ; 
 
 None in sight; 
 
 Takes a svum. 
 
 Little lad — 
 
 Old story — 
 
 Very sad — 
 
 Boy in glory. — Tid-Bits. 
 
 “Heah, you go tell Gawge Washington 
 Buchanan Jackson Smif 
 To come and put he gawments on, 
 
 Or else I knock ’im stiff. 
 
293 
 
 “An ’Lisabith Victoria, 
 
 An’ Lilly Langtry Jane, 
 
 You bes’ come in heah to your ma, 
 
 Outen all dat rain.” 
 
 — Pittsburg- Commercial- Gazette. 
 
 She Best ^ay Out. 
 
 “How do you manage with your wife when you 
 go home late nights?” 
 
 “Easily enough — I don’t go home.” 
 
 Lincoln’s Stoi^y op a I^oodle Dog Used 
 
 ON THE 0ND OP A LONG DOLE 
 TO Swab O^indows. 
 
 A friend who. was walking over from the White 
 House to the War Department with Mr. Lincoln, 
 repeated to him the story of a “contraband” who 
 had fallen into the hands of some good, pious 
 people, and was being taught by them to read and 
 pray. 
 
 Going off by himself one day, he was overheard 
 to commence a prayer by the introduction of him- 
 self as “Jim Williams — a berry good nigga’ to wash 
 windows; ’spec’s you know me now?” 
 
 After a hearty laugh at what he called this “di- 
 rect way of putting the case,” Mr. Lincoln said: 
 
294 
 
 TEE WORLES 
 
 “The story that suggests to me, has no resem- 
 blance to it, save in the ^vashing windows’ part. 
 A lady in Philadelphia had a pet poodle dog, which 
 mysteriously disappeared. Rewards were offered 
 for him, and a great ado made without effect. 
 Some weeks passed, and all hope of the favorite’s 
 return had been given up, when a servant brought 
 him in one day in the filthiest condition imagin- 
 able. The lady was OA^erjoyed to see her pet again, 
 but horrified at his appearance. 
 
 ‘Where did you find him?’ she exclaimed. 
 
 “ ‘Oh,’ replied the man, very unconcernedly, ‘a 
 negro down the street had him tied to the end of a 
 pole, siDohbing windcg^^’A’^ 
 
 fl Row Fellow. 
 
 Adolphus — I say, Weginald, I saw you talking to 
 that dw^eadful cad De Smithe yesterday. Don’t do 
 it again, chappie; the fellah is a low chap, ye 
 knoAv. 
 
 Reginald — Bless me, I thought the fellah was a 
 decent soht, ye know. 
 
 Adolphus — Oh, deah no ! Why, I saAv him dowm 
 the stAveet the othaAv day cawying a bundle — act- 
 ually a bundle. 
 
 Reginald — The vulgah bAvute? — The Uamhler, 
 
tiBRAmr 
 .. OF THE 
 Ui!!VEf{2iTY Of lUtMlS 
 
SHE HAD HER REVENGE. 
 
 P. 295 
 
 Kd i/j'hiinn 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 295 
 
 Y)E Y}AD a FJELiAPSE. 
 
 Jones — Hullo, old man! Come in and take 
 something. 
 
 Brown — Why, I thought you’d sworn oh. 
 
 Jones — Of course I did; but I have my periodi- 
 cal relapses from virtue, and, as Mrs. Jones is out 
 of town for a week, I am relapsing now. 
 
 fl gUESHUONABLE I^EMEDY. 
 
 The baby had got hold of a dish of cranberries 
 and a hard case of colic was the inevitable result. 
 
 ‘‘What in the name of all that is good and bad,” 
 said the head of the house, who was trying to read 
 his paper, “is the cause of that baby’s screaming?” 
 
 “Cranberries,” replied the mother. “Hush, my 
 baby, hush — ” 
 
 “Well, for heaven’s sake if she wants cranberries, 
 give her some. Anything to stop that noise.” 
 
 She Y)AD I^ei^ FJeyenge. 
 
 Mrs. Greening — How strange it seems for us to 
 be married. We who used to quarrel so much. 
 
 Mr. Greening — Yes ; we did have some trouble at 
 first. 
 
 Mrs. G. — Do you remember that night last June 
 when you flirted so and I vowed that I would be 
 revenged ? 
 
296 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 Mr. G. — Well, you got even at last, didn’t you? 
 
 Mrs. G. — Why, how? 
 
 Mr. G. — By marrying me ! — The Bamblef. 
 Stoi^y op Salmon. 
 
 One evening W. J. Florence, the actor, sat in 
 the club-room telling of his exploits on a salmon 
 river in New Brunswick. “How many salmon did 
 you catch?” a visitor inquired. 
 
 Florence nearly fell from his chair at the ignor- 
 ance displayed in the question. “Fishermen, sir,” 
 said he, with freezing hauteur, “never use the word 
 catch as you apply it. They kill salmon. - They 
 never catch them. 
 
 The rebuked listener turned scarlet but made no 
 response. A moment afterward Laurence Jerome, 
 the father of Lady Eandolph Churchill, and an ex- 
 cellent story-teller, began to talk of his adventures 
 on a salmon stream. He was describing himself as 
 standing on a bank at daybreak whipping a “Jack 
 Scott,” over the water, when he hooked a big sal- 
 mon. “I was so excited,” he said, “that I dropped 
 my slungshot in the water and lost the fish.” 
 
 . “Dropped what?” Florence asked, in open-eyed 
 atonishment. 
 
 “My slungshot,” Jerome rephed. 
 
 “Why, what could you do with a slungshot at 
 such a time?” Florence inquired, 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 297 
 
 ‘‘Best thing in the world to kill a salmon with,” 
 Jerome said, going right on with his story, while 
 everybody roared. 
 
 Samuel and Ijuginda. 
 
 A COLOKED WEDDING AT GEENADA, MISS. “I’ZE GWINE 
 
 TO STICK.” 
 
 One of the waiters at the hotel in Grenada, 
 Miss., told us that a colored wedding was coming 
 off that evening, and several white people went 
 over to the house designated to witness the affair. 
 The happy couple finally stood up before the min- 
 ister, who said: 
 
 “Samuel, you an’ Lucinda am shortly to be jined 
 together. Does you desire to back out?” 
 
 “No, sah.” 
 
 “How am it wid you, Lucinda? Does you want 
 to flunk afore dese yere white folks?” 
 
 “No, sah.” 
 
 “Den you two hitch hands.” 
 
 They hitched. 
 
 “Samuel, does you take her fur better or wuss? 
 Am you gwine to do de fa’r thing by dis yere gurl, 
 whose ladder was killed on de railroad up nigh 
 Jackson?” 
 
 “Yes, sah.” 
 
 “Lucinda, does you realize de seriousness of dis 
 opportunity? Am you gwine to stick to Samuel 
 
298 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 clean frew to de judgment-day, or am you gwine 
 to trifle around arter odder men?” 
 
 “I’ze gwine to stick.” 
 
 “Den, cliill’en, in de presence of dese yere white 
 men from de Norf, one of whom subscribed, two 
 bits yesterday to help build up de meetin ’-house 
 dat was blowed down by de sighclone, I denounce 
 you as hitched, jined, an’ mar’d ’cordin’ to de law 
 an’ gospel. Now you go ’long an’ behave yer- 
 selves .” — Detroit Free Press. 
 
 r)OF^SE-(iAI^ SEGf^ET. 
 
 Coming down from the capitol this afternoon in 
 a crowded car were two handsomely dressed ladies 
 who chatted with astonishing unconsciousness of 
 their surroundings. One lady was a senator’s wife 
 and the other a Washington belle. The following 
 was overheard by every occupant of the car : 
 
 “It is a dead secret that Lida Waite is to be mar- 
 ried in June. She told me so herself, and I have 
 not breathed it to a single person.” 
 
 Sai^PI^ISING ^apa. 
 
 John Friend, 24 years 'of age, and Mrs. Ada 
 Bruner, a widow of 35 summers, eloped Wednesday 
 from Charleston, Ind., to Jeffersonville, where they 
 
WIT AND WITS, 
 
 299 
 
 were married by Justice Keigwin. The couple 
 came down the river in a sailboat. Friend was in 
 his shirt-sleeves and had but $1.50 in his pocket. 
 He borrowed enough money from the county clerk 
 to get his license, and the obliging justice tied the 
 knot gratuitously. The bride said that the run- 
 away was arranged to surprise her “papa.” She 
 desired the newspapers to write up the event, and 
 if possible to illustrate them sailing down the river. 
 
 P (sONYBNIEN^r FJUliB. 
 
 In his capacity of debtor Jones pursues some 
 ?iueer methods. 
 
 “As for me,” said he, “when a creditor takes it 
 nto his head to write to me I cross him oh my 
 list. That settles it; no money for him!” 
 
 “And when he doesn’t write?” 
 
 . “In that case I wait until he does.” — Judge, 
 
 ©UPID, JPHB Book flOBNJP. 
 [puck.] 
 
 I will not touch love’s hand (she said), 
 Nor will I see his pleading eyes; 
 
 I know him, for his lips are red; 
 
 He shall not take me by surprise. 
 
300 
 
 THE WORLHS 
 
 I know his eyes a:ipii,^iwa (she smiled), 
 I know the sheen of ev.ery 
 
 Ah, love (she sa1^d);'you are a ‘child, 
 And can’t deceive a Yassar girl! 
 
 Love spectacled his sapphire eyes. 
 And dressed himself in sober black; 
 
 Ho, ho ! (he laughed) in this disguise 
 I’ll hide the arrows on my back. 
 
 He started out in early spring. 
 
 And in the fields the maiden met 
 
 As she tripped onward, loitering 
 Among the grasses, lush and wet 
 
 With cooling moisture of the dew. 
 
 He opened wide a musty tome ; 
 
 I wish (he said) to show to you 
 A parchment history of Eome ; 
 
 And here is Bacon bound in calf, 
 
 And Browning in a vellum vest ; 
 
 Here’s Emerson in sheep at half 
 The usual price — and all the rest. 
 
 The maid selected one small book. 
 And clasped it with a tender touch; 
 
 It’s T. B. Aldrich that I took. 
 
 But, sir, I think you ask too much! 
 
“only look within my eyes.” 
 
 p. 301. 
 
WIT AND WIT&. 
 
 801 
 
 I do love books (she sighed), and, oh! 
 
 How few of tliem I can possess ! 
 
 Love’s heart began to throb and glow; 
 
 He felt the hidden arrows press 
 
 His tender flesh ; he threw aside 
 The spectacles, his best disguise; 
 
 If you will touch my hand (he cried). 
 
 And only look within my eyes. 
 
 These books are yours, fair Vassar maid! 
 
 Oh ! do not turn away your head. 
 
 And look so cold ! be not afraid. 
 
 For I am only love! (he said). ^ 
 
 The maiden’s cheeks were all aflame; 
 
 She coyly pressed his finger-tips. 
 
 Then down she bent (and who shall blame?) 
 And swiftly kissed his rose-red lips ! 
 
 ^HY F)e Didn’t Go Into the Speculation. 
 
 An Eastern drummer who was in Knoxville lis- 
 tened to the complaints of a mountaineer about 
 hard times for ten or fifteen minutes, and then ob- 
 served : ‘ AVhy, man, you ought to get rich shipping 
 green corn to the Northern markets.” “Yes, I 
 orter,” was the reply. “You have the land, I sup- 
 pose, and can get the seed?” “Yes.” “Then why 
 
302 THE WORLHB 
 
 don’t you go into the speculation?” “No use, 
 stranger,” sadly replied the native; “the old woman 
 is too darned lazy to do the plowing and planting.” 
 
 ©0 A fflAN OJOULD 
 
 Select the girl. 
 
 Agree with the girl’s father in pohtics and the 
 mother in religion. 
 
 If you have a rival keep an eye on him ; if he is 
 a widower keep two eyes on him. 
 
 Don’t swear to the girl that you have no bad 
 habits. It will be enough for you to say that you 
 never heard yourself snore in your sleep. 
 
 Don’t put much sweet stuff on paper. If you 
 do you will hear it read in after years, when your 
 wife has some especial purpose in inflicting upon 
 you the severest punishment known to a married 
 man. 
 
 Go home at a reasonable hour in the evening. 
 Don’t wait until the girl has to throw her whole 
 soul into a yawn that she can’t cover with both 
 hands. A little thing like that might cause a cool- 
 ness at the very beginning of the game. 
 
 If, on the occasion of your first call, the girl 
 upon whom you have placed your young affections 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 303 
 
 looks like an iceberg and acts like a cold wave, 
 take your leave early and stay away. Woman in 
 her hours of freeze is uncertain, coy, and hard to 
 please. 
 
 In cold weather finish saying good-night in the 
 house. Don’t stretch it all the way to the front 
 gate and thus lay the foundation for future asthma, 
 bronchitis, neuralgia, and chronic catarrh, to help 
 you worry the girl to death after she has married 
 you.* 
 
 Don’t lie about your financial condition. It is 
 very annoying to a bride who has pictured for her- 
 self a life of luxury in her ancestral halls to learn 
 too late that you expect her to ask a bald-headed 
 parent who has been uniformly kind to her to take 
 you in out of the cold. 
 
 If you sit down on some molasses candy that 
 little Willie has left on the chair, while wearing 
 your new summer trousers for the first time, smile 
 sweetly and remark that you don’t mind sitting on 
 molasses candy at all, and that ^^boys will be 
 boys.” Deserve your true feelings for future refer- 
 ence. 
 
 Don’t be too soft'. Don’t say: ‘‘These little 
 hands shall never do a stroke of work when they 
 are mine,” and “You shall have nothing to do in 
 
304 
 
 THE WORLD^S 
 
 our home but to sit all day long and chirp to the 
 canaries,” as if any sensible woman could be happy 
 fooling away time in that sort qf style, and a girl 
 has a fine retentive memory for the soft things and 
 silly promises of courtship, and occasionally, in 
 after years, when she is washing the dinner dishes 
 or patching the west end of your trousers, she will 
 remind you of them in a cold, sarcastic tone of 
 voice. 
 
 ^ Rathei^’s LcEJIUTEI^. 
 
 A FEW SUGGESTIONS TO A SON AT SCHOOL. 
 
 BILL NYE. 
 
 My Dear Son : Your letter of last week reached 
 us yesterday, and I enclose ^13 which is all I have 
 by me at the present time. I may sell the other 
 shote next week and make up the balance of what 
 you wanted. I will probably have to wear the old 
 buffalo overcoat to meetings again this winter, but 
 that don’t matter so long as you are getting an ed- 
 ucation. 
 
 I hope you will get your education as cheap as 
 you can, for it cramps your mother and me like 
 Sam Hill to put up the money. Mind you I don’t 
 complain. I knew education come high, but I 
 didn’t know clothes cost like sixty. 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 305 
 
 I want you to be so you can go anywhere and 
 spell the hardest word, I want you to be able to go 
 among the Eomans or the Medes and Persians and 
 talk to any of them in their own native tongue. 
 
 I never had any advantages when I was a boy, 
 but your mother and I decided that we would sock 
 you full of knowledge, if your hver held out, regard- 
 less of expense. We calculate to do it, only we 
 want you to go as slow on swallow-tail coats as 
 possible till we can sell our hay. 
 
 Now regarding that boat-paddling suit, and that 
 bathing suit, and that roller-rinktum suit, and that 
 lawn-tennis suit, mind, I don’t care about the 
 expense, because you say a young man can’t 
 really educate himself without them, but I wish 
 you would send home what you get through with 
 this fall, and I’ll wear them through the winter 
 under my other clothes. We have a good deal 
 severer winters here than we used to, or else I’m 
 failing in bodily health. Last winter I tried to go 
 through without underclothes, the way I did when 
 I was a boy, but a Manitoba wave came down our 
 way and picked me out of a crowd with its eyes shet. 
 
 In your last letter you alluded to getting injured 
 in a little “hazing scuffle with a pelican from the 
 rural districts.” I don’t want any harm to come 
 to you, my son, but if I went from the rural dis- 
 
 20 
 
306 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 tricts and another young gosling, from the rural 
 districts undertook to haze me, I would meet him 
 when the sun goes down, and I would swat him 
 across the back of the neck with a fence board, and 
 then I would meander across the pit of his stomach 
 and put a blue for-get-me-not under his eye. 
 
 Your father ain’t much on Grecian mythology 
 and how to get the square root of a barrel of pork, 
 but he wouldn’t allow any educational institutions 
 to haze him with impunity. Perhaps you remem- 
 ber once when you tried to haze your father just to 
 kill time, and how long it took you to recover. 
 Anybody that goes at it right can have a good deal 
 of fun with your father, but those who have sought 
 to monkey with him just to break up the monotony 
 of life, have most always succeeded in finding what 
 they sought. 
 
 I ain’t much of a penman, so you will have to 
 excuse this letter. We are all quite well, except 
 old Fan, who has a galded shoulder, and hope this 
 will find you enjoying the same great blessing. 
 
 Your 
 
 FATHEE. 
 
 ©HE GXAMINAJFION OF GlP^LS. 
 
 Yes, Nina, you are perfectly right. The time 
 has come for woman to break her fetters, and soar 
 into the clearer ether of knowledge and education. 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 307 
 
 Long enough — too long, in fact — has she been kept 
 from enjoying the benefits of a higher and more 
 liberal education. Brutal man has thus far suc- 
 ceeded in keeping her without the walls of our 
 universities, hut all to no purpose. She is bound 
 to traverse the classic halls of our colleges sooner 
 or later, and the longer masculine jealousy shall hold 
 her away from her cherished goal, heavier and 
 harder will become his burden, until at last he will 
 be forced to yield in abject fear, and with the in- 
 dex-finger of retributive justice pointing in scorn 
 and derision at his futile resistance. 
 
 Thus far do we agree with you, Nina; but allow 
 us, in all humility, to beg leave to make a sugges- 
 tion. It is hardly fair to compel gentle woman to 
 cast aside all the subjects which are her constant 
 care and study, and in their place take up the 
 things which are only in man’s province. This is 
 unfair to her, Nina. She should have questions 
 put to her on examinations which will not cause 
 her to forget altogether that she is a woman. 
 
 We beg, therefore, Nina, to suggest an entrance 
 examination which will adequately illustrate her 
 fitness or non-fitness to grapple with the hard, dry 
 pabulum of a college course. An examination- 
 paper, Nina, something like the following, is our 
 idea. It will show pretty well what she knows, or 
 ought to know: 
 
308 
 
 THE WOELH& 
 
 EXAMINATION PAPEK— (PATENTED.) 
 
 Eor Young Ladies Entering the Lahyrinth of 
 
 Knotvledge. 
 
 ALGEBRA. 
 
 Solve the following equation : 
 
 x + y=z. 
 
 j xr= a Biiinmer at Newport. 
 
 ( y — a designing mamma. 
 
 Find the square of a crazy-quilt. 
 
 GEOGRAPHY. 
 
 Locate Saratoga, Long Branch, Mt. Desert, Cape 
 May, Narragansett Pier. 
 
 What is an Oyster Bay? 
 
 What is a sti’eam of iVdmirers? 
 
 ASTRONOMY. 
 
 state whether a star or crescent is the more appro- 
 priate setting for diamonds. 
 
 State the reason for the son’s declination to take 
 the hint concerning a moonlight drive. 
 
 ARITHMETIC. 
 
 If Susie has one new dress, and Clara has two new 
 dresses, how many more callers will Clara have 
 during an evening? 
 
 If Arabella likes Claude, and Claude likes somebody 
 else, what does Arabella think of somebody else ? 
 
V;' IT AND WITS. 
 
 309 
 
 KHETOKIC. 
 
 Solve the following syllogisms : 
 
 “I must have a new honnet, John.” 
 
 “Why, my dear?”, 
 
 “Because.” 
 
 “I hate those Smith girls.” 
 
 “Everybody seems to like them.” 
 
 “I don’t; they’re horrid.” 
 
 GEOMETKY. 
 
 Problem — To construct a brown-stone front and 
 establishment on the base of a nine-hundred- 
 dollar salary. 
 
 Square a milliner’s bill. 
 
 Find a cube root of sassafras. 
 
 NATURAL HISTORY. 
 
 What bird is most appropriate for a walking-hat? 
 State why the nose of the pug is retrousse. 
 
 BOTANY. 
 
 State why each petal of a Jacqueminot rose 
 costs enough to furnish a poor man with a 
 meal. 
 
 SURVEYING. 
 
 Take Broadway as a base line for shopping. 
 Departure — 9 ;30 a. m. 
 
 The distance — Five blocks. 
 
 State the time required to buy a spool of cotton 
 and return home so as to arrive before six 
 o’clock dinner. 
 
310 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 LANGUAGES. 
 
 Translate Foemina miitahile semper. 
 
 — L. B. Gatlin in Fuck, 
 
 Liasit Uagajfion. 
 
 I met her on West Hampton Beach, 
 
 Where I was spending my vacation, 
 
 And pelted her with flowers of speech : 
 
 It was my only recreation. 
 
 I told her that I loved her well. 
 
 Admired her face, her graceful carriage; 
 
 And in the pause of ocean’s swell 
 Hinted of our prospective marriage. 
 
 We sought the beach at morn and eve, 
 
 On the piazza took our nooning ; 
 
 And in two weeks, you may believe, 
 
 We did an awful lot of spooning. 
 
 I was a fool; I might* have known 
 That I, in town, would soon recover; 
 
 While she stiU claims me as her own 
 Accepted and acknowledged lover. 
 
 'She sends me gushing missives, all 
 About her heart— and how I won it, 
 
 And 0, my salary’s so small 
 I really wish I hadn’t done it! 
 
I MET HER ON WEST HAMPTON BEACU." 
 
 P. 310. 
 
UEHwfnr 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UrnVERSlTY OF ILUHOIS 
 
 / 
 
Vi^IT AND WITS, 
 
 311 
 
 UNGLE I^EMUS I^ETUr^NS. 
 
 THE OLD man’s DISINTEEESTED VOTE ON THE PKOHIBITION 
 QUESTION IN GEOKGIA. 
 
 There were many exclamations of astonishment 
 yesterday when Uncle Eemns walked into the office. 
 He had not made his appearance in some time, and 
 there were various rumors as to his whereabouts. 
 It had been reported that he had gone back to 
 Putnam County, that he was farming in the neigh- 
 borhood of Decatur, and that he was raising water- 
 melons on the Sand Do^^^'^Jad. The result of 
 this uncertainty wa.s %j^iagUQUee]ing,^f uneasiness 
 in the editorial department, and when he made his 
 appearance yesterday he was heartily welcomed — 
 indeed, he was greeted with such effusion that it 
 caused him some degree of embarrassment. His 
 broad smile, however, showed that he was pleased, 
 and he inquired with affectionate familiarity in re- 
 gard to the health of each one of the young men. 
 Time had dealt very gently with him. His hair 
 seemed to be a little whiter, hut his frame was as 
 stalwart as ever, and his good humor as prominent. 
 
 “Where m the round world have you been?” one 
 of the young men asked, 
 
 “Well, sir,” the old man replied with a chuckle, 
 ‘T des bin bangin’ ’roun’ ’twixt livin’ an’ dyin’, en 
 dat’s ’bout much ez anybody kin do deze days. 
 
312 
 
 THE WOBLD^S 
 
 My health bin po’ly, hut my appertite bin mighty 
 good. I bin sorter scratchin’ roim’ for my rashins, 
 but I ain’t bin so fnr but w’at I kin smell dat big 
 dinner pot w’at bang in Miss Sally kitchen, mo’ 
 spesbually on Sundays. Kaze w’en Sunday come 
 I’m right dar.” 
 
 Uncle Eemus bad bag slung across bis shoulder, 
 and as be put it down be turned to the political re- 
 porter and said : 
 
 “Boss, w’at all dish yer talk I year ’bout poba- 
 tion?” 
 
 “Probation? I haven’t beard any talk about 
 probation.” 
 
 “He means prohibition,” said the temperance re- 
 porter, with a sigh. 
 
 “Yassir, dat zackly bit. W’at all dish yer talk 
 ’bout probation?” 
 
 “Well, you know as much about it as we do,” 
 said the sporting editor. “It means that all the 
 barrooms are closed, and that you .can’t get on a 
 spree.” 
 
 “Den w’at I tuck’n fotcb dat ar jug fer?” said the 
 old man, kicking something in the bag. “How 
 come somebody aint tell me ’bout dis long ’fo 
 now?” 
 
 “Well, I can’t say. Haven’t you beard about 
 prohibition before?” 
 
 “Co’see I up’n year Mars John en Miss SaUy 
 
WIT AND WITS, 
 
 313 
 
 quollin’ ’bout pobation, but dey done get me so 
 mixt up dat I aint know head from tail.” 
 
 ^‘How did they get you mixed up?” 
 
 ‘‘Well, sir, long at fust Mars John he talk up fer 
 p’obation, en Miss Sally she ’low dat she uz ag’in’ 
 it. Dey had it up en down. Mars John ’low dat 
 all de licker ought be o’d out on de groun’, en 
 Miss Sally she ’low dat Mars John ’d feel mighty 
 bad ef some er his po’ ’kin ud come ’long en dey 
 ain’t no sperrets in de house fer ter put in de pies 
 en fixin’s. Den, atter dat, hit seem like Mars John 
 change he’ min’, en no sooner is he do dat dan 
 Miss Sally she up’n change her’n, en dar day had 
 it. Mars John say de town gwine ter be tetotally 
 mint, en Miss Sally ’low dat ef it kin be mint liker 
 would a mint it long time ago.” 
 
 “And what do you think about it?” 
 
 “Bless yo’ soul, honey! Don’t ax me. W’en 
 de w’ite folks git crossways nigger better lay low.” 
 
 “Well, how do you vote?” 
 
 “Who, me? Well, sir, ‘fo’ voting time come 
 Miss Sally she vow I got to vote her way, en she 
 gimme a big dram, en den Mars John, low I got ter 
 vote ’zactly de way he do, en den he tuck’n gimme 
 annuder big dram. Den, time I come down-town 
 n’er man gimme a dram. I speck I gittin’ sorter 
 ole and fibble-minded, kase dem ar drams, arterdey 
 got huddled up terge’er, dey make me so sleepy dat 
 
314 
 
 TEE WO RLE 8 
 
 I can’t walk straight, en by de time I wake up dey 
 want no mo’ voting gwine on. Yassir, dat’s des 
 ’zactly de way I voted dat day.” 
 
 “Now, then,” said some one, “what do you pro- 
 pose to do with your jug?” Uncle Eemus smiled 
 all over his countenance. 
 
 “You all know dat jug?” he inquired. “Dat ar 
 jug is de same ole ’ceitful jug wat I brung up yer 
 long time ago. Dis make two times you done seed 
 dat jug, but you ain’t ’quainted wid ’er like I is. 
 Dey ain’t no tellin’ ’bout dat jug. She de wuss 
 jug dat ever got wet on de inside. She sho’ly is.” 
 
 “Well, she can’t be deceitful now,” said the 
 temperance reporter. This seemed to amuse Uncle 
 Kemus immensely. 
 
 “Who, dat jug?” he exclaimed, “dat ar jug sittin’ 
 down dar? Honey, you better let dat jug ’lone. 
 This one er deze yer befo-de- War jugs.” 
 
 “Is there anything in it?” the temperance re- 
 porter asked. 
 
 “Well, sir,” said Uncle Kemus, picking it up and 
 shaking it close to his ear, “hit soun’ like dey 
 sump’n in dar — hit soun’ mighty like it. I done 
 promise dat jug dat I ain’t gwine to let nobody 
 smell er de stopper less’n hit’s me er de ole ’oman. 
 Ef dey ain’t sump’n n’er in dat jog den she done 
 fool me mighty bad.” 
 
 “Why, I thought you said you had nothing in 
 
WIT AND WITS, 
 
 315 
 
 it/’ said the temperance reporter. 
 
 “Who, me? Bless yo’ soul, honey! I ain’t say 
 dat. What de ole niggar gwine to say dat for? 
 No, sir. I tukin ax you all gentlemens ef dish yer 
 is a pobation town, en you up’n ’low dat she wer’, 
 en den I tuck’n ax dat ef dish yer’s a pobation 
 town den how come ole Kemus fer be totin’ dish 
 yer jug?” 
 
 The old man told his friends good-by, and as he 
 went down-stairs the temperance reporter heard 
 him remark to himself : 
 
 “Ef dish yer ain’t de beatenes’ jug w’at ever I 
 seed !” — Atlanta (Ga.) Constitution, 
 
 FF^ANGISGO glZAI^f^O’S (sAI^EEr?. 
 
 BORN IN SHAME AND REARED AMONG SWINE, HE CONQUERS 
 
 FAME AND FORTUNE IN PERU WITH THE SWORD 
 
 HISTORY OF A SELF-MADE MAN. 
 
 BILL NYE. 
 
 Perhaps the history of the western hemisphere 
 has never furnished a more wonderful example of 
 the self-made man than may be found in the person 
 of Francisco Pizarro, a gentleman who came to 
 America about 1510, intending to grow up with 
 the country. 
 
 I 
 
316 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 Mr. Pizarro was born at Truxillo, Spain, about 
 1471. His father was a Spanish colonel of foot 
 and his mother was a peasant girl who admired 
 and respected the dashing colonel very much, but 
 felt that she had scruples about marriage, and so, 
 although years afterward Francisco tried his best 
 to make a match between his father and mother, 
 they were never married. It is said that this em- 
 bittered his whole life. None but those who have 
 experienced it can fully realize what it is to have a 
 thankless parent. 
 
 Pizarro ’s mother’s name was Estramadura. This 
 tVas her maiden name. It was a name whicJi 
 seemed to harmonize well with her rich, pickled- 
 olive complexion and so she retained it all her life. 
 Her son did not have many early advantages, for 
 he was neglected by his mother and allowed to 
 grow up a swineherd, and it is even said that he 
 was suckled by swine in his infancy while his giddy 
 mother joined in the mad whirl at the skating-rink. 
 We can hardly imagine anything more pitiable than 
 the condition of a little child left to rustle for 
 nourishment among the black-and-tan hogs of Spain 
 while his father played old sledge on the frontier in 
 the regular army and his mother stood on her Span- 
 ish head and wrote her cigar-box name in the 
 atmosphere at the rink. 
 
 Poor little Pizarro had none of the modern ad- 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 817 
 
 vantages, therefore, and his education was ex- 
 tremely crude. The historian says that he grew 
 up a bold, ignorant, and brutal man. He came to 
 what was then' called Spanish America at the age 
 of 39 years and assisted Mr. Balboa in discovering 
 the Pacific ocean. Having heard of the existence 
 ‘of Peru with all its wealth, Pizarro secured a band 
 of self-made men like himself and lit out for that 
 province for the purpose of conquering it if he 
 liked it and bringing home some solid silver teapots 
 and gold-lined card-receivers. He was engaged in 
 gathering this line of goods and working them off 
 on the pawnbroker for twenty-one years, during 
 which time he did not get killed, but continued to 
 enjoy a reasonable degree of health and strength. 
 
 Although Peru at that time was quite densely 
 populated with an industrious and wealthy class of 
 natives, Pizarro subdued her with 110 foot soldiers 
 armed with old-fashioned muskets that had these 
 full-blown barrels, with muzzles on them like the 
 business end of a tuba horn, sixty-seven mounted 
 men, and two toy cannon loaded with carpet-tacks. 
 With no education, and, what was still harder to 
 bear, the inner consciousness that his parents were 
 plain, common, every-day people whose position in 
 life would not advance him in the estimation of the 
 Peruvians, he battled on. His efforts were crowned 
 with success, insomuch that at the close of the 
 

 THE WORTHS 
 
 year 1532 peace was declared and lie could breathe 
 the free air once more without fear of getting a 
 bronze arrow-head mixed up with his kidneys when 
 his back was turned. “For the first time in two 
 years/’ says the historian, “Pizarro was able to 
 take off his tin helmet and his sheet-iron corset at 
 night when he lay down to rest, or undismayed to 
 go forth bareheaded and wearing only his crinkled 
 seersucker coat and a pair of sandals at the twi- 
 light hour and till midnight wander alone amid the 
 famous guano groves of Peru.” 
 
 Such is the history of a man who never even 
 knew how to write his own name. He won fame 
 for himself and great wealth without an education 
 01 a long, dark-blue lineage. Pizarro was like Job. 
 You know, we sometimes sing: 
 
 Oh, Job, he was a fine young lad, 
 
 Sing glory hallelujah. 
 
 His heart was good but his blood was bad, 
 Sing glory hallelujah. 
 
 So Pizarro could not brag on his blood and his 
 education was not classical. He could not write 
 his name, though he tried faithfully for many years. 
 Day after day during the campaign, and late into 
 the night, when the yaller dogs of Lima came forth 
 with their Peruvian bark, he would get his 
 orderly sergeant to set him the copy : 
 
WIT AND WITS, 
 
 819 
 
 “Paul may plant and Apollinaris water, but it is 
 God that giveth the increase.” 
 
 Then Pizarro would bring out his writing mate- 
 rial and his tongue and try to write, but he never 
 could do it. His was not a studious mind. It was 
 more on the knock-down-and-drag-out order. 
 
 Pizarro was made a marquis in after years. He 
 was also made a corpse. He acquired the latter 
 position toward the close of his life. He, at one 
 time, married the inca’s daughter and founded a long 
 line of grandees, marquises, and macaroni sculptors, 
 whoso names may be found on the covers of im- 
 ported cigar boxes and in the topmost tier of the 
 wrought-iron resorts in our best penitentiaries. 
 
 Pizarro lived a very busy life during the conquest, 
 some days killing as many as seventy and eighty 
 Peruvians between sun and sun. But death at 
 last crooked his finger at the marquis and he slept. 
 We all brag and blow our horn here for a few brief 
 years, it is true, but when the grim reaper with his 
 new and automatic twine-binder comes along he 
 gathers us in; the weak and the strong, the igno- 
 rant and the educated, the plain and the beautiful, 
 the young and the old, those who have just sniffed 
 the sweet and dew-laden air of life’s morning and 
 those who are footsore and weary and waiting — all 
 alike must bow low to the sickle that goes on cut- 
 ting closer and closer to us even when we sleep. 
 
320 
 
 THE WORLD'S 
 
 Had Pizarro thought more about this matter he 
 would have been ahe^.^o^lay. 
 
 
 
 Bothbi^ing a BOASIHEF^. 
 
 Talking about swagger, too much of this commo- 
 dity has lately brought to grief a certain member of 
 a well-known good third-rate London club. This 
 gentleman is not only a confirmed tuft hunter,” 
 but one who, so far from admitting that any mem- 
 ber of the “upper ten” could by any accident be 
 unknow to him, is always ready to boast of close 
 and intimate friendship with everyone who happens' 
 to have either rank or position. His failing is no- 
 torious; and three humorists determined to give 
 him a lesson. Accordingly, in the club billiard- 
 room, one of their number, Mr. C., casually said: 
 
 “Are you going to Lady L ’s tonight?” “No,” 
 
 replied the victim; “her ladyship will never forgive 
 me; but the fact is I’m fagged out, and good people 
 are scarce, I think.” “Quite right; I’ll make your 
 .apologies,” said Mr C. 
 
 Aghast at this unlooked for proposition, but un- 
 able now to retreat from the position he had taken 
 up, the only rejoinder of Mr. J. was a feeble 
 “Thanks; I wish you would.” Half an hour later, 
 just as the trio were about to leave the club, un- 
 happy Mr. J. drew Mr. C. aside, and after some 
 
tfSRAUr 
 OF THE 
 
 OifivERsiTy Of lun'ois 
 
A GOOD REASON. 
 
 P. 321. 
 
wrr AND WITS. 
 
 321 
 
 beating about the bush, was at last obliged to con- 
 fess that he did not know Lady L., and begged Mr. 
 C. not to mention his name to her. “All right,” 
 said his triumphant tormentor. “I won’t; you 
 may depend upon that, for I don’t happen to know 
 her myself ! ’ ’ — Quiz. 
 
 Good I^bason. 
 
 German (to barkeeper) — “Say, Herman, how vas 
 dot?” 
 
 Herman — “How vas vot?” 
 
 “Vy, ven you keeb der blace down on der gorner, 
 vy, efry time I de saloon come in you say, 'Come 
 haf glass beer,’ und now, since you gum ub hier, 
 you neber say 'Haf glass beer.’ How vas dot no- 
 how?” 
 
 “Yell, I dells you how dot vas. Ven I vas down 
 on der gorner I vas vorking for Meester Smidt.” 
 
 “Yah.” 
 
 “Und de beer vot I gif me avay gost me nud- 
 dings.” 
 
 “Yah.” 
 
 “But now, I owns dis blace und de beer vat I gifs 
 ervay gost me somedings. Dot vas de vay. If you 
 bring somebody else’s beer my house in I gif you 
 all of it you vant .” — Arhansaiu Traveler. 
 
 21 
 
322 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 p Sgientipig nOiPE. 
 
 “I lived in San Francisco before the War,” ob- 
 served a returned Californian at the last Scientific 
 Association meeting, “when the coast was suffering 
 from a great many earthquakes. I once dug a well 
 in clayey soil seventy-five feet deep and had just 
 begun walling it in from the top when there was an 
 internal upheaval on night. The next morning I 
 was surprised to find my narrow belt of stone sev- 
 enty-five feet above the surface with the rest of the 
 hole continuing down to the ground.” 
 
 “What did you do?” asked the President in as- 
 tonishment. 
 
 “I set workmen to walling up the rest of it, work- 
 ing around the hole from the top down.” 
 
 “Then what?” inquired the President with even 
 more surprise. 
 
 “I sold it to a man for $2,000, who built a fac- 
 tory next to it, and he used it for a chimney.” 
 
 One op Lcingoln’s ^Imusing Illusti^ations. 
 
 One of Mr. Lincoln’s illustrations given by him 
 on one occasion was that of a man who, in driving 
 the hoops of a hogshead to “head” it up, was much 
 annoyed by the constant falling in of the top. At 
 length the bright idea struck him of putting his 
 little boy inside to “hold it up.” This he did; it 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 323 
 
 never occurring to him till the job was done, how 
 he was to get his child out. “This,” said Lincoln, 
 “is a fair sample of the way some 'peo'ple aliuays do 
 business T 
 
 U3HY the flUDIENGE SMILED. 
 
 “If I ever get married in a church again you can 
 call me a goat,” said a bashful man the other day. 
 
 “What’s the matter now?” 
 
 “Matter enough,” he retorted, and he seemed to 
 get mad as he thought of it. “I was married not 
 long ago, and as my wife’s parents were pillars of 
 the church it had to come off there, so they 
 thought. Well, some repairs were being made in 
 the church, so the marriage took place in the Sun- 
 day-school room. There’s where the whole trouble 
 came in. We stood on the platform where the 
 Superintendent’s desk stood, and before the minis- 
 ter got started I noticed a great many people smil- 
 ing in the audience. I didn’t know what to make 
 of it. They all seemed to be looking over my head. 
 I never said anything till the thing was done ; then 
 I turned around and looked up. What do you 
 think I saw? One of those confounded mottoes 
 hanging right over our heads, and it said: ‘Suffer 
 Little Children to Come Unto Me.’ Isn’t that 
 enough to make a man mad?” 
 
324 
 
 THE WORLDS S 
 
 pN UNPOr^TUNAiTE fflAN. 
 
 [CHICAGO EAMBLER.] 
 
 De Jinks always wanted to say the right thing, 
 but somehow he never could. He had been spend- 
 ing a couple of weeks in a Wisconsin town, and on 
 the evening set for his departure met Miss De 
 Vercy, a very pretty young lady, to whom he had 
 been introduced when first he arrived in the place. 
 
 ‘‘And are you going to-night, Mr. De Jinks?” she 
 said. “I’m so sorry we haven’t seen more of you 
 during your stay.” 
 
 “Pray, .don’t mention it,” he returned, with an 
 excess of gallantry. “Indeed it has been all my 
 fault. Miss De Vercy.” 
 
 A few moments later he saw his mistake, but 
 could find no chance to atone for it, until, as he 
 was about to leave for the depot, one of his friends 
 suggested : 
 
 “You haven’t said ‘Good-bye’ to Miss De Vercy, 
 have you?” 
 
 Here was a chance that was not to be lost. 
 Turning to the fair damsel, with his sweetest and 
 gracious smile, he said: 
 
 “Indeed I have, old boy. I had the pleasure of 
 saying ‘Good-bye’ to Miss De Vercy first of all.” 
 
 And then he went his way, believing he had 
 “done himself proud.” 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 825 
 
 r)ow She Flauijpbnbd r)iM. 
 
 It was a noonday car up Michigan avenue. It 
 was hot. It was boiling, roasting hot. The driver 
 had rivulets of perspiration running down his face 
 as the sun hit him plumb-center, and the conduc- 
 tor mopped and growled and fingered the nickels 
 with wet fingers in the shade of the rear platform. 
 Opposite each other, on the last seats back, were a 
 middle-aged woman who sat up as stiff as a poker 
 and looked as cool as ice, and a corpulent, red-faced 
 man, who unbuttoned coat and vest and collar, and 
 puffed away like a porpoise. 
 
 “Ever see the. like?” he queried, as he looked 
 across at the woman and fanned himself with his 
 hat. 
 
 She regarded him with a look of disdain. 
 
 Never saw anything like it, even in the trop- 
 ics!” he gasped. 
 
 Her glance this time was five degrees below 
 zero. 
 
 ‘‘Awful — just positively awful! Another sueh 
 day as this will use up a thousand people. You 
 must be suffering, too.” 
 
 She gave him a look hung all around with ici- 
 cles, and then beckoned to the conductor. 
 
 “Sir,” she said, as that official entered, “when 
 did they remove the stove from this car?” 
 
326 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 ‘‘Several weeks ago, madam.” 
 
 “How reckless! Please close the window be-' 
 hind me, and do for mercy’s sake keep that door 
 shut. I’m just shivering with the cold and have 
 no shawl with me.” 
 
 Then she looked a whole iceberg at the man op- 
 posite, shivered her shoulders two or three times, 
 and cuddled down in the corner to keep warm. He 
 looked at her for a minute in a dubious way, and 
 then buttoned up coat and vest, jammed on his 
 hat, and softly sneaked out and boosted himself 
 upon the railing to finish his ride in the deepest 
 silence . — Detroit Free Press. 
 
 F^BI^ gAPA ©OMBS IN. 
 
 A Boston minister has a bright little 4-year-old 
 daughter whose sayings are often worth repeating. 
 One morning at breakfast he asked across the 
 table : 
 
 “Edie, whom do you love best?’^ 
 
 “Mamma,” answered the little one. 
 
 “Whom next?” 
 
 “Aunt Helen.” 
 
 “Whom next?” 
 
 “Bridget.” 
 
 And the disappointed father continued his ques- 
 tions until the young maiden had declared her 
 

 WIT AND WITS. 
 
 affection for most of the neighborhood without 
 mentioning any love for her father. Finally the 
 clergyman said: 
 
 “But, Edie, where does papa come in?” 
 
 The httle maid paused a moment,’ looked coyly 
 up, and then replied demurely: “In the front 
 door .” — Boston Becord. 
 
 fflASTEI^. 
 
 BUKDETTE. 
 
 The breath of June with sweet perfume 
 Came stealing through the open door. 
 
 And restless shadows in the room 
 
 Played with the sunbeams on the floor. 
 
 The buzzing voices croon and drone. 
 
 And laugh aloud in willful way ; 
 
 The old schoolmaster on his throne 
 
 Sleeps soundly on that sweet June day. 
 
 Away from noisy schools his dreams 
 
 Have swept him back through paths of light 
 
 By dimpling mead and rippling streams. 
 
 To childhood’s home and morning bright. 
 
 Soft, soft he sleeps, schoolmaster wise, 
 
 With one eye open just a crack ; 
 
 So just in time he grabs Bill Blyes, 
 
 And makes the dust fly from his back. 
 
328 
 
 THE W0RLH8 
 
 r^o Massing ^him. 
 
 Miss Birdie McGinnis is one of the most con- 
 firmed flirts in Austin. She has been engaged to 
 half a dozen men, and thus far has never married 
 any of them. 
 
 Of late Tom Anjerry, a dissipated student of the 
 University of Texas, has been paying Miss Birdie 
 marked attention. A few evenings ago, being in a 
 secluded place with her, he flopped down on his 
 knees and remarked in an agonized tone of voice : 
 
 “Miss Birdie, I adore you!” 
 
 “I can’t believe you,” replied Bii’die; “you men 
 are so fickle and unreliable. Your so-called love is 
 a mere passing whim.” 
 
 “0, no,” said Tom, “my love for you is greater 
 than that of your four last fellows put together.” — 
 Texas Siftings. 
 
 ©AIjISTHENIGS. 
 
 “Mary Ann! Phwat’s that trill-le-la-loo non- 
 sense yer jiggin’ away at in thayre I want to know? 
 Put down that fut!” “Don’t bother me now; it’s 
 practicing me calisthenics I am.” “Cahsthenics, 
 is it? Is that what ye learn at the seminneries? 
 Calisthenics, ah ha! Lapin’ around on the wan 
 fut wid your toes toorned in? Well, do yez calis- 
 thenic around here to the toob and warrm the j’ints 
 

 FOUR-PLY LOVE. 
 
 P. 32S. 
 
lliilYEKi 
 
 f'f THE 
 
 Of 
 
 
^YIT AND WITS, 
 
 329 
 
 av yez elbows be roobin’ the diirt out ov these hick- 
 ory shirts an’ overalls, or I’ll tache yez a fancy 
 step wid de broom that’ll make yez raise the two 
 feet av yez higher than the spine o’ yer back, wid 
 no more effort than the howl ye’ll set up for ’em to 
 catch on. Calisthenics, ha! I’ll have no more of 
 this jig-jaggin’ around like a hin an a stove-lid. 
 The foorst thing ye know it’s joinin’ the bally ye’ll 
 be, an’ be spendin’ all yer money for clothes an’ 
 wearin’ none of ’em. Calisthenics, 0 ho!” 
 
 — Brooklyn Eagle. 
 
 liINGOLN (JOKING DOUGLA^^^'- SpL^NDID 
 
 On one occasion, when Lincoln and Douglas 
 were “stumping” the State of Illinois together as 
 political opponents, Douglas, who had the first 
 speech, remarked that in early life, his father, who 
 he said was an excellent cooper by trade, appren- 
 ticed him out to learn the cabinet business. 
 
 This was too good for Lincoln to let pass, so 
 when his turn came to reply, he said : 
 
 “I had understood before that Mr. Douglas had 
 been bound out to learn the cabinet-making busi- 
 ness, which is all well enough, but I was not aware 
 until now that his father was a cooper. I have no 
 doubt, however, that he was one, and I am certain. 
 
330 
 
 THE WORLD'' S 
 
 also, that he was a very good one, for (here Lincoln 
 gently bowed toward Douglas) he has made one of 
 the best luhishj cashs I have ever seenE 
 
 As Douglas was a short heavy-set man, and oc- 
 casionally imbibed, the pith of the joke was at once 
 apparent, and most heartily enjoyed by all. 
 
 On another occasion, Douglas in one of his 
 speeches, made a strong point against Lincoln by 
 telling the crowd that when he first knew Mr. Lin- 
 coln he was a “groceiy-keeper,” and sold whisky, 
 cigars, etc. “Mr. L.,” he said, “was a very good 
 bar-tender!'' This brought the laugh on Lincoln, 
 whose reply, however, soon came, and then the 
 laugh was on the other side. 
 
 “What Mr. Douglas has said, gentlemen, ’’replied 
 Mr. Lincoln, “is true enough ; I did keep a grocery 
 and I did sell cotton, candles, and cigars, and 
 sometimes whisky; but I remember in those days 
 that Mr. Douglas was one of my best customers ! 
 
 “Many a time have I stood on one side of the 
 counter and sold whisky to Douglas on the other 
 side, but the difference between us now is this: I 
 have left my side of the counter, but Mr. Douglas 
 still sticks to his as tenaciously as ever!” 
 
 ©HAT Dooi^-Spf^ing. 
 
 He shd quietly into a Jefferson avenue hardware 
 store yesterday forenoon, unrolled a paper on the 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 331 
 
 counter, and as he held up a patent door-spring he 
 said : “I buy him two days ago, and I like to ex- 
 change him for a whetstone.” 
 
 “What’s the matter?” 
 
 “Vhell, I can’t make him fit on my screen door.” 
 
 “Why, that’s the easiest thing in the world. See 
 here : This end screws on the door, and that end on 
 the casing.” 
 
 “I tried him dot vhay und he doan’ work.” 
 
 “When it is on you take this metal pin and turn 
 the spring. See the holes there?” 
 
 “I does dot vhay, and my screen door flies open.” 
 
 “You turned the wrong way.” 
 
 “I turns him eafery way. Sometimes der door 
 vhas wide open, und all der flies in Michigan go in, 
 und sometimes he vhas shut oop so tight I can’t 
 get in my own house. I begin on him in der morn- 
 ing, und I doan’ leave off till night, but he won’t 
 work right.” 
 
 “That’s curious. What tools did you have?” 
 
 “I used a hammer und screw drifer und cold- 
 shisel und saw und augur und crowbar und lots of 
 more, but he doan’ spring for me. My wife works 
 at him, too, and my hired man he loose half a day, 
 und I was discouraged. I guess I trade him for a 
 whetstone.” 
 
 “Well, I’ll exchange with you, but I’m sure lean 
 show you how to adjust it.” 
 
332 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 “I guess I doan’ try any more. You see, my life 
 vhas short, und I can’t spare so mooch time mit 
 machinery. If I get a whetstone I doan’ haf to 
 screw him on nor turn him round. Dere vhas no 
 -pins or ratchets in his stomach. He vhas all right 
 both ends oop. Maybe he doan’ keep oudt flies but 
 he makes no trouble for me.” 
 
 The exchange was made and the man went away 
 light-hearted, calling back from the door : 
 
 ‘T can make oudt a whetstone all right, und I 
 vhas obliged mit you. A whetstone winds oop only 
 one vhay .” — Detroit Free Dress. 
 
 fflETHUSEIiAH. 
 
 A EECENT BIOGEAPHICAL NOTICE OF THIS GEAND OLD MAN 
 A SLAVE TO TOBACCO. 
 
 BILL NYE. 
 
 I have just been reading James Whitcomb Eiley’s 
 response to “the old man” at the annual dinner of 
 the Indianapolis Literary club, and his reference to 
 Methuselah has awakened in my mind many recol- 
 lections and reminiscences of that grand old 
 man. WY first meet Methuselah in the capacity of 
 a son. iVt the age of 65, Enoch arose one night 
 and telephoned his family physician to come over 
 and assist him in meeting Methuselah. Day at last 
 
EfJOC.H TELEPyONED HIS FAMILY PHYSICIAN 
 
 P- 332. 
 
'V A 
 
 t^ofm^fT/onuirots 
 
^X1T AND ^¥1T8. 
 
 333 
 
 dawned upon Enoch’s happy home, and its first red 
 rays lit up the' still redder surface of the little stran- 
 ger. For three hundred years Enoch and Methu- 
 selah jogged along together in the capacity of father 
 and son. Then Enoch was suddenly cut down. It 
 was at this time that little Methuselah first realized 
 what it was to be an orphan. He could not at first 
 realize that his father was dead. He could not 
 understand why Enoch, with no inherited disease, 
 should be shuffied out at the age of 365 years. 
 But the doctor said to Methuselah: “My son, you 
 are indeed fatherless. I ham^one all I could, but 
 it is useless. I had tokE^noch manj a time that 
 if he went in swirnffin^- Before the ice was out of 
 the creek it would finally down him, hut he thouglit 
 he knew better than I did. He was a headstrong 
 man, Enoch was. He sneered at me and alluded 
 to me as a fresh young gosling, because he was 
 300 years older than I was. He has received 
 the reward of the willful, and verily the doom of 
 the smart Aleck is his.” 
 
 Methuselah now cast about him for some occu- 
 pation wTiich would take up his attention and as- 
 suage his wild, passionate grief over the loss of his 
 father. He entered into the walks of men and 
 learned their ways. It was at this time that he 
 learned the pernicious habit of using tobacco. We 
 can not wonder at it when we remember that he 
 
334 
 
 THE WOBLD^S 
 
 was now fatherless. He was at the mercy of the 
 coarse, rough world. Possibly he learned to use 
 tobacco when he went away to attend business col- 
 ledge after the death of his father. Be that as it 
 may, the noxious weed certainly hastened his death, 
 for 600 years after this vre find him a corpse ! 
 
 Death is ever a surprise, even at the end of u long 
 illness and after a ripe old age. To those who are 
 near it seems abrupt; so to his grand children some 
 of whom survived him, his children having died of 
 old age, the death of Methuselah came like a thun- 
 derbolt from a clear sky. 
 
 Methuselah succeeded in cording up more of a 
 record such as it was, than any other man of whom 
 history informs us. Time, the tomb-builder and 
 amateur mower, came and leaned over the front 
 fence and looked at Methuselah, and ran his thumb 
 over the jagge<l edge of his scythe, and went away 
 whistling a low refrain. He kept up this refrain 
 business for nearly ten centuries, while Methuselah 
 continued to stand out amid the general wreck of 
 men and nations. 
 
 Even as the young, strong mower going forth 
 with his mower to mow spareth the tall and dig- 
 nified drab hornet’s nests and passeth by on the 
 other side, so time, with his Waterhury hour-glass 
 and his overworked hay-knife over his shoulder, 
 and his long Mormon whiskers and his high, sleek 
 
WIT AND WITS, 
 
 335 
 
 dome of thought, with its gray lambrequin of hair 
 around the base of it, mowed all around Methuse- 
 lah and then passed on. 
 
 Methuselah decorated the graves of those who 
 perished in a dozen different wars. He did not 
 enlist himself, for over nine hundred years of his 
 life he was exempt. He would go to the enlisting 
 place and offer his services, and the officer would 
 tell him to go home and encourage his grand- 
 children to go. Then Methuselah would sit around 
 Noah’s steps, and smoke and criticise the conduct 
 of the war, also the conduct of the enemy. 
 
 It is said of Methuselah that he never was the 
 same man after his son Lamech died. He was 
 greatly attached to Lamech, and when he woke up 
 one night to find his son purple in the face with 
 membraneous croup he could hardly realize that he 
 might lose him. The idea of losing a boy who had 
 just rounded the glorious morn of his 777th year 
 had never occurred to him. But death loves a 
 shining mark, and he garnered little Lammie and 
 left Methuselah to moan and mourn on for a couple 
 more centuries without him. 
 
 Methuselah finally got so that he couldn’t sleep 
 after 4 o’clock in the morning, and he didn’t see 
 how anyone else could. The older he got and the 
 less valuable his time became the earlier he would 
 rise, so that he could get an early start. As the 
 
336 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 centuries filed slowly by Methuselah got where all 
 he had to do was to shuffle into his loose-fitting 
 clothes, and rest his gums on the top of a large 
 sleek-headed cane, and mutter up the chimney, 
 and then groan and extricate himself from his 
 clothes again and retire. He arose earlier and 
 earlier in the morning, and muttered more and 
 more about the young folks sleeping away the best 
 of the day, and said he had no doubt that sleeping 
 and snoring until breakfast time helped to carry off 
 Lam. But one day old Father Time came along 
 with a new scythe, and he drew the whetstone 
 across it a few times and rolled the sleeves of his 
 red flannel undergarment up over his warty elbows, 
 and Mr. Methuselah passed on to that undis- 
 covered country with a ripe experience and a long, 
 clean record. 
 
 We can almost fancy how the physicians, who 
 had disagreed about his case all the way through, 
 came and insisted on a post-mortem examination 
 to prove which was right, and what was really the 
 matter with him. We can imagine how people 
 went by shaking their heads and regretting that 
 Methuselah shoul#;i'srfe tampered with tobacco 
 when he knew it.affected his l^eart. 
 
 But he is gone.* He hved to see his own promis- 
 sory notes rise, flourish, acquire interest, pine away 
 at last, and finally outlaw. He acquired a large 
 
tfSRAW 
 Of THE 
 
 UiHVERilTY Of ItLIHOIS 
 
WHY HE WANTED THE BOOT. 
 
 P- 337- 
 
WIT AND WITS, 
 
 337 
 
 farm in the very heart of the county-seat, and re- 
 fused to move or to plot it and call it Methuselah’s 
 addition. He came out in spring regularly for 
 nine hundred years after he got too old to work 
 out his poll-tax on the road and put in his time 
 telling the rising generation how to make a good 
 road. Meantime other old people, who were almost 
 100 years of age, moved away and went west, 
 where they would attract attention and command 
 respect. There was actually no pleasure in getting 
 old around where Methuselah was and being or- 
 dered about and scolded and kept in the back- 
 ground by him. 
 
 So when at last he died people sighed and said : 
 “Well, it was better for him to die before he got 
 childish. It was best that he should die at a time 
 when he knew it all. We can’t help thinking what 
 an acquisition Methuselah will be on the evergreen 
 shore when he gets there, with all his ripe experi- 
 ence and habits of early rising.” 
 
 And the next morning after the funeral Methu- 
 selah’s family did not get out of bed till 9 o’clock. 
 
 ^HY THE BOOT. 
 
 Little Coon (picking up a hoot): ‘^Say, mistah, 
 kin I’s hah dis ole sho’?” 
 
 22 
 
.^38 
 
 THE 
 
 Farmer (eyeing him snspicioiisly) : “What du 
 yer want it fer?” 
 
 Little Coon (giving the whole thing away) : “De 
 ole man wnz ’round h’yar las’ night an’ ’jus’ ’ud 
 time ter git de one sho’ w’en de dorg got luse; so 
 he sen’ me ober ter git de oder, es it’s oh no ’count 
 ter yu’.” — Enck. 
 
 fl Legend op ^phe ©i^usades. 
 
 “One of my ancestors won a battle during the 
 crusades by his skill in handling his artillery,” said 
 the baron. 
 
 “But, my dear baron,” said his friend, “at the 
 time of the crusades gunpowder had not yet been 
 discovered.” 
 
 “I know that as well as you do, and so did my 
 ancestor.” 
 
 “How did he win the battle then?” 
 
 “He brought his artillery to bear on the Sara- 
 cens, and the stupid fools seeing the guns, sup- 
 posed that powder had at last been discovered, and 
 fled in dismay .” — Texas Siftings. 
 
 ©HE ©f^ISONEI^’S FJEQUESIT. 
 
 Judge — Prisoner at the bar, you have been found 
 guilty of grand larceny. Have you anything to 
 &Qy before sentence is pronounced? 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 339 
 
 Prisoner — Only a few words, your honor. I can 
 see it in your eyes that I’m going to get the ex- 
 treme penalty. I don’t object to that, but I do 
 object to standing up here and suffering a long- 
 winded lecture from you. Therefore I ask that my 
 counsel be mercifully permitted to give me chloro- 
 form before you begin. 
 
 ©HEY DIDN’iP fflATGH. * 
 
 “I thay, old chappie, can you let me have your 
 horse to dwive in my dwag this aftahnoon?” 
 
 “Why, of course. But why not drive your own?” 
 
 “My dear boy, I’m going to take Miss Dwesser 
 dwiving, and she always weahs that deuced wed 
 dwess. My horse is ecwu y’ know, and they 
 don’t match . — The Bamhler, 
 
 IlINGOLN AND JPHE BlJIupiiE BOY. 
 
 During a visit to Chicago soon after his nom- 
 ination, and while giving a reception at one of the 
 hotels, a fond father took in a little boy by the 
 hand who was anxious to see the new President. 
 The moment the child entered the parlor door he, 
 of his own accord and quite to the surprise of his 
 father, took off his hat, and, giving it a swing, cried : 
 “Hurrah for Lincoln!” There was a crowd, but 
 
340 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 as soon as Mr. Lincoln could get hold of the little 
 fellow, he lifted him in his hand, and, tossing him 
 towards the ceiling, laughingly shouted: “Hurrah 
 for you!” 
 
 It was evid^ni^^^efreshingjjincident to Lincoln 
 in the dreary work of hand-shaking. 
 
 ©HE RIGI^LBNESS op FAMB. 
 
 Street Urchin (to a companion) — I tell yer, 
 Patsy, who’s der best perliceman on der force. He’s 
 der boss. 
 
 Patsy — An’ who’s dat? 
 
 Street Urchin — I forget what’s his name. He 
 isn’t on now; he’s been discharged. 
 
 Billing to ©ui^n I7EF^ ©oat. 
 
 A Western Michigan wool buyer who was circu- 
 lating among farmers to engage their clips met 
 with one who was inclined to look upon the matter 
 as a kind of gambling affair. 
 
 “You agree to buy my wool for so much a month 
 in advance of shearing,” said he. “How do you 
 know that wool won’t go up or down? The price 
 may be too much or not enough. It looks like 
 flying in the face of Providence.” After a long 
 argument he agreed to leave it to his wife, and she 
 replied : 
 
tlBRMir 
 
 . OF THE 
 UHlVERsiry OF ftllHOfS 
 
“ I HAVE ONLY EATEN A COUPLE OF VERY DISTANT RELATIVES.” P. 34I. 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 341 
 
 “Look a-here, Samuel, I’m just as good a Baptist 
 as you are, and if there is anything in our religion 
 which says we shan’t take 28 cents a pound for 
 our wool when we didn’t expect above 25, we’ll 
 accept the offer on the wool and flop over to the 
 Methodists.” 
 
 fl iMPf^OVEMENT. 
 
 Missionary (to newly converted chief of a canni- 
 bal tribe — Well, Luke, how about cannibalism? 
 Four weeks ago you slaughtered your father ; have 
 you not improved since ? 
 
 Cannibal — Yes, indeed, my teacher; since then 
 I have only eaten a couple of very distant rela- 
 tives . — Fliegende Blatter. 
 
 lilNGOLN AND HEW F?AT. 
 
 Mr. G. B. Lincoln tells of an amusing circum- 
 stance which took place at Springfield soon after 
 Mr. Lincoln’s nomination in 1860. A hatter in 
 Brooklyn secretly obtained the size of the future 
 President’s head, and made for him a very elegant 
 hat, which he sent by his townsman, Lincoln, to 
 Springfield. About the time it was presented, 
 various other testimonials of a similar character 
 had come in from different sections. Mr. Lincoln 
 took the hat, and after admiring its texture ^nd 
 
342 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 workmanship, put it on liis head and walked up to 
 a looking-glass. Glancing from the reflection to 
 Mrs. Lincoln, he said, with his peculiar twinkle of 
 the eye, “Well, wife, there is one thing likely to 
 come out of this scrape, any how. We are going 
 to have some neiu clotliesr 
 
 fl GALLANIT ^oung CQan. 
 
 Mrs. De Hobson Clarke (who flatters herself 
 upon her youthful aj)pearance) — You would scarcely 
 think, Mr. Dumley, that the stalwart young fellow 
 near the piano is my son, would you? 
 
 Dumley (gallantly) — No, indeed, Mrs. Clarke; it 
 seems absolutely impossible. Ah-er-is he your 
 eldest son? 
 
 Bill Hyb. 
 
 HE DISCOVERS A MAN WITH AN IDEA A NEW PLAN OF 
 
 RUNNING A GOOD HOTEL IMPROVEMENTS FOR 
 
 WHICH PEOPLE PAY IN ADVANCE. 
 
 The following circular from a hotel-man in Kan- 
 sas is going about over the country, and it certainly 
 deserves more than a passing notice. I change the 
 name of the hotel and proprietor in order to avoid 
 giving any free boom to a man who seems to be 
 thoroughly self-reliant and able to take care of him- 
 
WIT AND WITS, 
 
 345 
 
 self. The rest of the circular is accurately copied : 
 
 Kansas. — Dear Sir: Not having enough room 
 under our present arrangements, and wishing to 
 make the Eoller-Towel House the recognized head- 
 quarters for traveling men, we desire to enlarge 
 the building. Not having the money on hand to 
 do so, we make the following proposition : If you 
 will advance us $5, to he used for the above pur- 
 pose, we will deduct that amount from your bill 
 when stopping with us. We feel assured that the 
 traveling men appreciate our efforts to give them 
 first-class accommodations, and as the above amount 
 will be deducted from your bill when stopping with 
 us, we hope for a favorable reply. Should you not 
 visit our town again the loan will be repaid in 
 cash. J. Kkash Towel, 
 
 Proprietor Eoller-Towel House. 
 
 Here we have a man with a quiet, gentlemanly 
 way, and yet withal a cool, level head, a man who 
 knows when he needs more room and how best to 
 go to work to remedy that defect. Mr. Towel sees 
 that another row of sleeping rooms, cut low in the 
 ceiling, is actually needed. In fancy he already 
 sees these rooms added to his house. Each has a 
 strip of hemp carpet in front of the bed and a cute 
 little green shade over the window, a shade that 
 falls down when we try to adjust it, filling the 
 room with Kansas dust, In his dreams he sees 
 
344 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 each room fitted out with one of those smooth, de- 
 ceptive beds that are all right until we begin to 
 use them for sleeping purposes, a bed that the tall 
 man lies diagonally across and groans through the 
 livelong night. 
 
 Mr. Towel has made a rapid calculation on the 
 buttered side of a menu, and ascertained that if 
 one-half the traveling men in the United States 
 would kindly advance $5, to be refunded in case 
 they did not decide to make a tour to the Eoller 
 Towel House, and to be taken out of the bill in 
 case they did, the amount so received would not 
 only add a row of compressed hot-air bedrooms, 
 with flexible soap and a delirious-looking glass, but 
 also insure an electric button, which may or may 
 not connect with the office, and over which said 
 button the following epitaph could be erected : 
 
 One Ring for Bell Boy. 
 
 Two Rings for Porter. 
 
 Three Rings for Ice Water. 
 
 Four Rings for Rough on Rats. 
 
 Five Rings for Borrowed Money. 
 
 Six Rings for Fire. 
 
 Seven Rings for Hook and Ladder 
 Company. 
 
 In fact, a man could have rings on his fingers and 
 bell-boys on his toes all the time if he wanted to do 
 so. 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 345 
 
 And yet there will be traveling-men who will 
 receive this kind circular and still hang back. Con- 
 stant contact with a cold, cruel world has made 
 them cynical, and they will hesitate even after Mr. 
 Towel has said that he will improve his house with 
 the money, and even after he has assured us that 
 we need not visit Kansas at all if we will advance 
 the money. This shows that he is not altogether 
 a heartless man. Mr. Towel may be poor, but he 
 is not without consideration for the feelings of 
 people who loan him money. 
 
 For my own part I fully believe that Mr. Towel 
 would be willing to fit up his house and put match- 
 es in each room if traveling-men throughout the 
 country would respond to this call for assistance. 
 
 But the trouble is that the traveling public ex- 
 pect a landlord to take all the risks and advance all 
 the money. This makes the matter of hotel keep- 
 ing a hazardous one. Mr. Towel asks the guests 
 to become an interested party. Not that he in so 
 many words agrees to divide the profits proportion- 
 ately at the end of the year with the stockholders, 
 but he is willing to make his hotel larger, and if 
 food does not come up as fast as it goes down — in 
 price, I mean — he will try to make all his guests 
 feel perfectly comfortable while in his house. 
 
 Under favorable circumstances the Roller Towel 
 House would no doubt be thoroughly refitted and 
 
346 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 refumisjaed throughout. The little writing-table 
 in each room would have its legs reglued, new wicks 
 would he inserted in the kerosene lamps, the stairs 
 would he dazzled over with soft soap, and the teeth 
 in the comb down in the wash-room would be reset 
 and filled. Numerous changes would he made in 
 the corps de ballet also. The large-handed cham- 
 bermaid, with the cow-catcher teeth and the red 
 Brazil-nut of hair on the hack of her head, would 
 he sent cown in the dining-room to recite that little 
 rhetorical hurst so often rendered by the elocution- 
 ist of the dining-room — the smart Aleckutionist, in 
 the language of the poet, begining: “Bfsteakprk- 
 stk’ncoldts,” with a falling inflection that sticks its 
 head into the bosom of the earth and gives its tail 
 a tremolo movement in the air. 
 
 On receipt of $5 from each one of the traveling 
 men of the union new hinges would be put into the 
 slippery-elm towels ; the pink soap would be revar- 
 nished ; the different kinds of meat on the table will 
 have tags on them, stating in plain words what 
 kinds of meat they are so that guests will not be 
 forced to take the word of servant or to reply on 
 their own judgement ; fresh vinegar with a sour taste 
 to it, and without microbes, will be put in the 
 cruets ; the old and useless cockroaches will be dis- 
 charged ; and the latest and most approved adjuncts 
 of hotel life will be adopted. 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 347 
 
 Why, then, should the traveling man hesitate? 
 Why should he doubt and draw back, falter and 
 shrink ? Why should he allow pessimism and other 
 foreign substances to get into his system and 
 change his whole life? 
 
 Let him remit $5 to the Eoller Towel House, and 
 if this should prove a success he may assist other 
 hotels in the same manner. He would thus feel 
 an interest in their growth and prosperity. Then, 
 as he became more and more forehanded, he could 
 assist the railroads, the ’bus lines, and the boot- 
 blacks, barbers, laundries, &c., in the same manner. 
 I would like to call upon the American people in the 
 same way. 
 
 I would like very much to establish a nice, ex- 
 pensive home for inebriates. It would cost, pro- 
 perly fittted up, about $750,000 or $800,000. If 
 those who read this article will lend $50, by express 
 or draft, I will take it out of their bill the first time 
 they will stop at my new and attractive inebriate 
 asylum. Who will be the first to contribute? — 
 Boston Globe. 
 
 fiN Innocent (Dan. 
 
 The trial of a man for murder had just com- 
 menced in a Dakota court when the attorney for 
 the defense arose and said : 
 
34:8 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 “If the court please, we have no fear as to the 
 outcome of this trial. In the testimony we shall 
 prove that the murder was committed four miles 
 from town at 2 o’clock in the afternoon. We shall 
 also establish the fact that there was a circus in 
 town that day.” 
 
 “Hold on,” said the judge, excitedly; “you say 
 there w^as a circus in town?” 
 
 “Yes, sir; the Anti-European Conglomeration 
 showed there that day.” 
 
 “Yes, I’ve seen it — two rings, a spotted- grave- 
 digging hyena, and seven lady bareback-riders. 
 You say the man was killed about 2 o’clock?” 
 
 “Yes, your honor.” 
 
 ‘‘Just the time of the ring parade?”- 
 
 “The same time.” 
 
 “While the elephant and double-humped camels 
 were going around ! ” . 
 
 “Yes, sir.” 
 
 “The prisoner is discharged. Trying to prove 
 that a man was four miles away from town on such 
 an occasion is looked upon as a malicious persecu- 
 tion by this court .” — Estelline {D. T.) Bell. 
 
 It CQade a Dippbi^engb. 
 
 “Madam,” he said, after a long survey of a dowser 
 stand at the central market yesterday, “could you 
 
IT MADE A DIFFERENCE 
 
 P. 348. 
 
V . 
 
 trB<wwf 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UHIVERSITV Of IIUH'M 
 
. WIT AND WITS. 
 
 349 
 
 recommend me something to place on my wife’s 
 grave?” 
 
 “I think so,” she answered, as she looked him 
 over. ‘‘How long has she been dead?” 
 
 “Six years.” 
 
 “Married again?” 
 
 “What is that to you?” 
 
 “Oh, you needn’t be so cranky about it. I’ve 
 dealt in cemetery flowers for the last fifteen years 
 and I know about how things work. If you are 
 still a widower you want about $4 worth of flowers 
 and a border of moss. If you are married again 
 you’ll pick out a 25-cent beat me down 
 
 to 15 cents, and send cemetery by a car- 
 
 driver.” 
 
 He pretended to be very indignant, and went to 
 the other end of the market and bought two feeble- 
 looking pinks for 7 cents apiece . — Detroit Free 
 Press. 
 
 fl SAcr^iPiGE. 
 
 “You have bad news to tell me?” queried the 
 wife of an Ohio plow manufacturer, as he came 
 home the other night. 
 
 “Yes. The men have demanded an increase of 
 pay. They want 95 cents a day or they will 
 strike.” 
 
S50 
 
 THE WOELHS 
 
 “You don’t say! Why, what on earth can they 
 be thinking of?” 
 
 “I’m afraid I’ll have to give in to them, and 
 you’ll have to make a sacrifice. I won’t ask you 
 to give up those diamond bracelets, nor the new 
 carriage, hut I’m afraid you’ll have to come down 
 to $50 hats and $15 shoes.” 
 
 ©WO f7UNDI^ED AND FiPJIiY ©HOUSAND 
 
 Masses to Richmond. 
 
 A gentleman called upon President Lincoln be^ 
 fore the fall of Kichmond and solicited a pass for 
 that place. “I should be very happy to oblige 
 you,” said the President, “if my passes were re- 
 spected; but the fact is, I have, within the past 
 two years, given passes to two hundred and fifty 
 thousand men to go to Eichmond, and not one has 
 got there yet.” 
 
 f^E OlAS ON Y}IS GUAI^D. 
 
 “My deah fellah, do you know I’ve been watch- 
 ing you with — aw — with great interwest of late ? 
 You pose on the corners with — aw — with pwincely 
 dignity. Don’t you evaw west?” “Naw, chum- 
 mie, nevah. You know, demmit, there are so many 
 of these — aw^ — these detective camewahs carried — 
 aw — awound now, I am afiwaid, don’t you know. 
 
WIT AND TF/r^. 
 
 351 
 
 some artist will take me picture, begad, when Ibu 
 not weady. So I’m always weady, don’t you 
 know.” 
 
 f^UNTING AN IGHTHYOSAUI^US. 
 
 THE VICTIMS OF A PRACTICAL JOKE TRAMP FIVE DAYS 
 ALONG BITTER CREEK IN SEARCH OF AN ANIMAL 
 THAT HAD BEEN DEAD 5,000 YEARS. 
 
 BILL NYE. 
 
 Several years ago 1 had the pleasure of joining a 
 party about to start out along the banks of Bitter 
 creek on a hunting expedition. The leader of the 
 party was a young man who had recently escaped 
 from college with a large amount of knowledge 
 which he desired to experiment with on the people 
 of the far west. He had heard that there was an 
 ichthyosaurus up somewhere along the west side 
 of Bitter creek, and he wanted us to go along and 
 help him to find it. 
 
 I had been in the west some eight or nine years 
 then and I had never seen an ichthyosaurus myself, 
 but I thought the young man must know his busi- 
 ness, so I got out my Winchester and went along 
 with the group. 
 
 We tramped over the pale, ashy, glaring, staring 
 stretch of desolation, through burning, quivering 
 
S52 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 days of monotony and sage brush and alkali water 
 and aching eyes and parched and bleeding lips and 
 nostrils cut through and eaten hy the sharp alka- 
 line air, mentally depressed and physicall}^ worn 
 out, but cheered on and braced up by the light and 
 joyous manner of the ever-hopful James Trilobite 
 Eton of Concord. 
 
 James Trilobite Eton of Concord never moaned, 
 never gigged back or shed a hot, remorseful tear in 
 this powdry, hungry waste of gray, parched ruin. 
 No regret came forth from his lips in the midst of 
 this mighty cemetery, this ghastly potter’s field for 
 all that nature had ever reared that was too poor to 
 bear its own funeral expenses. 
 
 Now and then a lean, soiled gray coyote, without 
 sufficient moral courage to look a dead mule in the 
 hind foot, slipped across the horizon like a dirty 
 phantom and faded into the hot and tremulous at- 
 mosphere. We scorned such game as that and 
 trudged on, cheered by the hope that seemed to 
 spring eternal in the breast of James Trilobite 
 Eton of Concord. 
 
 Four days we wallowed through the unchanging 
 desolation. Four nights w^e went through the mo- 
 tions of slumbering on the arid bosom of the wasted 
 earth. On the fifth day James Trilobite Eton said 
 we were now getting near the point where we would 
 find what we sought. On we pressed through the 
 
WTT AND WITS. 
 
 keen, rough blades of the seldom hunch-grass, over 
 the shifting, yellow sand and the greenish gray of 
 the had-land soil which never does anything but 
 sit around through the accumulating centuries and 
 hold the world together, a kind of powdery poison 
 that delights to creep into the nostrils of the pil- 
 grim and steal away his brains, or when moistened 
 by a little snow to accumulate around the feet of 
 the pilgrim or on the feet of the pilgrim’s mule till 
 he has the most of an unsurveyed ‘dorty” on each 
 foot, and the casual observer is cheered by the 
 novel sight of one homestead striving to jump an- 
 other. 
 
 Toward evening James Trilobite Eton gave a 
 wild shriek of joy and ran to us from the bed of an 
 old creek, where he had found an ichthyosaurus. 
 The animal was dead! Not only that, but it had 
 been dead a long, long time ! 
 
 James Milton Sherrod said that “if a college 
 education was of no more use to a man than that 
 he, for one, allowed that his boy would have to 
 grope through life with an academical education, 
 and very little of it.'' 
 
 I uncocked my gun and went hack to camp a 
 sadder and madder man, and, though years have 
 come and gone, I am still irritable when I think of 
 the five days we tramped along Bitter creek 
 
 23 
 
354 
 
 TIIK WOULD^& 
 
 searching for an animal that was no longer alive, 
 and onr guide knew it before he started. 
 
 I ventured to say to J. Trilobite Eton tliat niglit 
 as we all sat together in the gloaming discussing 
 whether he should be taken home with us in the 
 capacity of a guide or as a remains, that it seemed 
 to me a man ought to have better sense than to 
 wear Ids young life away trying to have fun with 
 his superiors in that way. 
 
 “Wliy, blame it all,” says Janies, “what did you 
 expect? You ought to know yourself that that 
 animal is extinct !” 
 
 “Extinck!” says James Milton Sherrod, in shrill, 
 angry tones. “I sliould say he was extinck. That’s 
 what we’re kickin’ about. What gallded me was 
 that you should of waited till the old cuss was ex- 
 tinck before you come to us like a man and told us 
 about it. You pull us through the sand for a week 
 and blister our heels and condemb near kill us, and 
 all the time you know that the blame brute is 
 layin’ there in the hot sun gittin’ more and more 
 extinck every minute. Fun is fun, and I like a 
 little nonsense now and then just as well as you 
 do, but I’ll be eternally banished to Bitter creek if 
 I think it’s square or right or white to play it on 
 your friends this kind of a way. 
 
 “You claim that the animal has been dead goin’ 
 on five thousand years, or some such thing as that. 
 
WIT AFD WITS, 
 
 355 
 
 and try to get out of it that way, but long as you 
 knew it and we didn’t it shows that you’re a low 
 cuss not to speak of it. 
 
 “What difference does it make to us, I say, 
 whether this brute was or was not dead and swelled 
 up like a pizen’d steer long before Nore got his 
 zoologickle show together? We didn’t know it. 
 We haven’t seen the Salt Lake papers for weeks. 
 You use your edjecation to fool people with. My 
 opinion is that the day is not far distant when you 
 will wake up and find yourself in the bottom of an 
 untimely grave. 
 
 “You bring us a hundred and fifty miles to look 
 at an old bone pile all tramped into the ground and 
 then say that the animal is extinck. That's a great 
 way to talk to an old man like me, a man old 
 enough to he your grandfather. Probly you 
 cacklate that it is a rare treat for an old-timer like 
 me to waller through from Green Kiver to the Yal- 
 lerstone and then hear a young kangaroo with a 
 moth-eaten eyebrow under his nose burst forth into 
 a rollicking laugh and say that the animal we’ve 
 been trailin’ for five days is extinck. 
 
 “I just want to say to you, James Trilobite Eton, 
 and I say it for your good and I say it with no 
 prejudice against you, for I want to see you succeed, 
 that if this ever happens agin and you are the 
 party to blame you will wake up with a wild start 
 
356 
 
 THE WORLD'' S 
 
 an the follerin’ day and find yourself a good deal 
 extincker than this here old busted lizard is.” 
 
 Y}E ^as Sympathbitig. 
 
 “Maude,” he said, tenderly putting his cane and 
 gloves and hat down on the floor, “will you maiwy 
 me?” 
 
 “No, sir,” she answered, coldly, “I will not.” 
 
 “Oh, Maude, think befoah you speak,” he urged, 
 as he adjusted his necktie. “Will you be my 
 wife?” 
 
 “No, sir,” she repeated, emphatically, “I won’t.” 
 
 “Maude,” he murmured, “you have made me 
 verwy, verwy happy. I only awsked you out of 
 sympathy, don’t you know.” 
 
 The way he went out of the house reminded 
 those who saw it of a sensational account of a 
 western cyclone. 
 
 p Liingoln Stof^y about Liittlb Dan ^eb- 
 STEi^’s Soiled I^andsI — l)ow Dan 
 Gsgapbd a Flogging. 
 
 Mr. Lincoln, on one occasion narrated to Hon. 
 Mr. Odell and others, with much zest, the follow- 
 ing story about young Daniel Webster: 
 
 When quite young, at school, Daniel Avas one 
 day guilty of a gross violation of the rules. He 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 357 
 
 was detected in the act, and called up by the 
 teacher for punishment. This was to be the old- 
 fashioned “feruling” of the hand. His hands hap- 
 pened to be very dirty. Knowing this, on his way 
 to the teacher’s desk, he spit upon the palm of his 
 right hand, wiping it off upon the side of his panta- 
 loons. 
 
 “Give me your hand, sir,” said the teacher, very 
 sternly. 
 
 Out went the right hand, partly cleansed. The 
 teacher looked at it a moment, and said: 
 
 “Daniel ! if you will find another hand in this 
 school-room as filthy as that, I will let you off this 
 time !” 
 
 Instantly from behind his back came the left 
 hand. “Here it is, sir,” was the ready reply. 
 
 “That will do,” said the teacher, “for this time; 
 yo^ :an take your seat, sir,” 
 
 YjlS I^BASON. 
 
 A jury composed of eleven business men and an 
 old fellow from across the creek retired to the jury 
 room. The foreman, when selected, remarked that 
 he thought the prisoner ought to be sent to the 
 penitentiary for five years. 
 
 “That ain’t long enough,” said the old fellow. 
 “Let’s put it on him fur ten.” 
 
358 
 
 THE WORLDS S 
 
 “0, no, that won’t do.” 
 
 “Wall, then,” stretching himself out on a bench, 
 “I’m with yer.” 
 
 “What, you going to hang the jury?” 
 
 “That’s about it.” 
 
 dear sir, we are anxious to get back to our • 
 business.” 
 
 “Then send him up fur ten.” 
 
 “But that would be a great injustice.’- 
 
 “Then squat an’ make yourselves comfortable.” 
 
 “Have you any special reason why the prisoner 
 should go up for ten years?” 
 
 “Think I have,” throwing a quid of tobacco at 
 the spittoon. 
 
 “Will you please name it?” 
 
 “Yes, fur it won’t take me long. He is my son- 
 in-law, an’ I have been supportin’ him ever since 
 he was married.” 
 
 He went up for ten years . — Arkansaw Traveler. 
 
 F?ow Y)E 0)issbd Im . 
 
 “Dot brudder of mine in Chicago vhas no good,” 
 said Moses, as he dusted a pair of second-hand 
 pants at the door. “He close his shtore der odder 
 day und puts on a sign dot his vdie was deadt, und 
 he doan’ keep open for two days.” 
 
 “Wasn’t that right?” 
 
HOW HE MISSED IT. 
 
 P- 358. 
 
irnRAHV 
 
 Of THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY Of 1UINO) 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 359 
 
 “It vhas all right to shut oop, but why doan’ he 
 say on der sign : “On dis account I haf to dispose 
 of dis mammoth shtock, und all goods shall be sold 
 at 10 per cent, below cost?” Vhen a peesness man’s 
 wife dies it vhas a chance to advertise, dot doan’ 
 come once in twenty years.” 
 
 FUN IN iPHB Bellow op ^the Blasip. 
 [coon rapids enterprise.] 
 
 One among the most amusing is told on old 
 Father Minnich. He saw t^.gy^one approaching 
 as it came over the hill, an^^tinding in the back 
 door and being beside *llimself, waved* his arms 
 toward it and cried out: “Shoo, shoo; go’way go’- 
 way, go’way.” The storm didn’t harm him, and 
 no one can prove that his effort was in vain. 
 
 Another one is told of our industrious tailor. He 
 made all possible haste to reach his dwelling and 
 save his wife, but the cyclone overtook him, and he 
 had to throw himself on the ground and hold to a 
 fence post. He was terribly shaken up, and as soon 
 as he reached his feet he was asked by Attorney 
 Eeid if he was hurt. 
 
 He replied: “I don’t know, but I think I am. 
 My head is awful soft right here ; please examine 
 it.” 
 
360 
 
 THE WORLDS & 
 
 Eeid did so, and found the soft place to be a huge 
 piece of mud which was plastered behind his ear. 
 
 J. A. Miller also came in as a subject for a little 
 fun by running away from his store, carefully carry- 
 ing away an old clothing sign, which was worth 
 more for what it had done than for any future ser- 
 vice. J. A. knows the value of advertising, how- 
 ever, and hence his idea was not so laughable after 
 all. 
 
 In the country, when Mrs. Titus was taken out 
 of the wreck, apparently almost dead, one of her 
 little boys, about four years old, exclaimed: “Why, 
 papa, you’ll have to. get us a new mamma now — 
 ours won’t be good for anything any more.” 
 
 The Enter'prise quill, too, was a trifle out of his 
 head, and was made fun of because he was inviting 
 some of the homeless to his house for shelter when 
 the roof was off his building and the rain dripping 
 through the ceiling as through a seive. 
 
 They also say that Warren Garst insists that he 
 was standing near the cyclone, watching it as it 
 passed, when in fact he was in a cave with fifteen 
 women and a preacher, and so badly frightened that, 
 notwithstanding his proverbial gallantry, he could 
 not be induced by a lady to run to her house and 
 secure a vahse which she seemed to be very anxious 
 to save. 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 361 
 
 r^BW BIOGI^APHY op GALiIIjEO. 
 
 SOME HERETOFOKE UNPUBLISHED FACTS ABOUT THE QUEER 
 
 OLD ITALIAN HIS REMARKABLE INVENTIONS AND 
 
 DISCOVERIES — HIS BOOKS. 
 
 BILL NYE. 
 
 Galilei, commonly called Galileo, was born at 
 Pisa on the 14th day February, 1564. He was a 
 man who discovered some of the fundamental prin- 
 ciples underlying the movements, habits, and per- 
 sonal peculiarities of the earth. Pie discovered 
 things with marvelous fluency. Born as he was, 
 at a time when the rotary motion of the earth was 
 still in its infancy and astronomy taught only in a 
 crude way, Galileo started in to make a few dis- 
 coveries and advance some theories of which he 
 was very fond. 
 
 He was the son of a musician and learned to play 
 several instruments himself, but not in such a way 
 as to arouse the jealousy of the great musicians of 
 his day. They came and heard him play a few 
 selections and then they went home contented with 
 their own music. Galileo played for several years 
 in the band at Pisa, and people who heard him said 
 that his maimer of gazing out over the Pisan hills 
 with a far-away look in his eye after playing a se- 
 lection, while he gently upended his alto horn and 
 
362 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 worked the mud- valve as it poured out about a pint 
 of moist melody that had accumulated in the flues 
 of the instrument, was simply grand. 
 
 At the age of 20 Galileo began to discover. His 
 first discoveries were, of course, clumsy and poorly 
 made, but very soon he began to turn out a neat and-^ 
 durable discovery that would stand for years. 
 
 It was at this time that Galileo noticed the 
 swinging of a lamp in a church, and, observing 
 that the oscillations were of equal duration, he in- 
 ferred that this principle might be utilized in the 
 exact measurement of time. From this little acci- 
 dent, years after, came the clock, one of the most 
 useful of man’s dumb friends. And yet there are 
 people who will read this litttle incident and still 
 hesitate about going to church. 
 
 Galileo also invented the thermometer, the micro- 
 scope, and the proportional compass. He seemed 
 to invent things, not for the money to be obtained 
 in that way, but solely for the joy of being first on 
 the ground. He was a man of infinite genius and 
 perseverance. He was also very fair in his treat- 
 ment of other inventors. Though he did not per- 
 sonally invent the rotary motion of the earth, he 
 heartily indorsed it and said it was a good thing. 
 He also came out in a card in which he said that 
 he believed it to be a good thing, and that he hoped 
 some day to see it applied to the other planets. 
 
WTT AND WITS. 
 
 363 
 
 He was also the inventor of a telescope that had 
 a magnifying power of thirty times. He presented 
 this to the Venetian senate, and it was used in 
 making appropriations for river and harbor improve- 
 ments. 
 
 By telescopic investigation Galileo discovered the 
 presence of microbes in the moon, but was unable 
 to do anything for it. I have spoken of Mr. Galileo 
 all the way through this article informally, calling 
 him by his first name, but I feel so thoroughly ac- 
 quainted with him, though there was such a strik- 
 ing difference in our ages, that I am almost justified 
 in using his given name while talking of him. 
 
 Galileo also sat up nights and visited with Venus 
 through a long telescope which he had made him- 
 self from an old bamboo fishing-rod. 
 
 But astronomy is a very enervating branch of 
 science. Galileo frequently came down to break- 
 fast with red, heavy eyes ; eyes that were swollen 
 full of unshed tears. Still he persevered. Day after 
 day he worked and toiled. Year after year he went 
 on with his task till he had worked out in his own 
 mind the satellites of Jupiter and placed a small tin 
 tag on each one, so that he would know it readily 
 when he saw it again. Then he began to look up 
 Saturn’s rings and investigate the freckles on the 
 sun. He did not stop at trifles, hut went bravely 
 on till averybody came foi* miles to look at him and 
 
364 
 
 THE WORLB'^S 
 
 get him to write something funny in their albums. 
 It was not an unusual thing for Galileo to get up 
 in the morning, after a wearisome night with a 
 fretful new-horn star, to find his front yard full of 
 autograph albums. Some of them were little red 
 albums with floral decorations on them, while others 
 were the large plush and alligator albums of the af- 
 fluent. • Some were new and had the price-mark still 
 on them, while others were old, foundered albums, 
 with a droop in the back and little flecks of egg and 
 gravy on the title-page. All came with a request 
 for Galileo “to write a little, witty, characteristic 
 sentiment in them.” 
 
 Galileo was the author of the hydrostatic para- 
 dox and other sketches. He was a great reader 
 and a fluent penman. One time he was absent from 
 home, lecturing in Venice for the benefit of the 
 United Aggregation of Mutual x\dmirers, and did not 
 return for two weeks, so that when he got back he 
 found the front room full of autograph albums. It 
 is said that he here demonstrated his great fluency 
 and readiness as a thinker and writer. He waded 
 through the entire lot in two days with only two 
 men from West Pisa to assist him. Galileo came 
 out of it fresh and youthful, and the following night 
 he was closeted all night with another inventor, a 
 wicker-covered microscope, and a bologna sausage. 
 The investigations were carried on for two weeks, 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 365 
 
 after which Galileo went out to the inebriate asy- 
 lum and discovered some new styles of reptiles. 
 
 Galileo was the author of a little work called “I 
 Discarsi e Dimas-Trazioni Matematiche Intorus a 
 Due Muove Scienze.” It was a neat little book, of 
 about the medium height, and sold well on the 
 trains, for the Pisan newsboys on the cars were 
 very affable, as they are now, and when they came 
 and leaned an armful of these books on a passen- 
 ger’s leg and poured a long tale into his ear about 
 the wonderful beauty of the work and then pulled 
 in the name of the book from the rear of the last car, 
 where it had been hanging on behind, the passen- 
 ger would most always buy it and enough of the 
 name to wrap it up in. 
 
 He also discovered the isochronism of the pen- 
 dulum. He saw that the pendulum at certain 
 seasons of the year looked yellow under the eyes, 
 and that it drooped and did not enter into its work 
 with the old zest. He began to study the case 
 with the aid of his new bamboo telescope and 
 wicker-covered microscope. As a result, in ten 
 days he had the pendulum on its feet again. 
 
 Galileo was inclined to he liberal in his religious 
 views, and more especially in the matter of the 
 scriptures, claiming that there were passages in the 
 bihle which did not literally mean what the transla- 
 tor said they did. This was where Galileo missed it. 
 
S66 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 So long as he discovered stars and isochronisms 
 and such things as that he succeeded, but when he 
 began to fool with other peoples’s rehgious behefs 
 he got into trouble. He was forced to fly from 
 Pisa, we are told by the historian, and we are 
 assured at the same time that Gahleo, who had 
 always been far, far ahead of all competitors in 
 other things, was equally successful as a fleer. 
 
 Gahleo received but 60 scudi per year for his 
 salary at Pisa, and a part of that he took in town 
 orders, woidh only 60 cents on the scudi. 
 
 fl Good Day’s 
 
 “I made a cool $2 bill yesterday besides my 
 wages,” said a new conductor of the 3d avenue 
 hne. 
 
 “Why do you call it a cool $2 bill!” 
 
 “Because I made it freezing to fares.” 
 
 ©HE ffSSESSMENJP DLAN. 
 
 “No hoisting works; not if I know it. You can 
 fool away a good deal of good, hard coin on hoist- 
 ing works.” 
 
 “How in thunder do you run youi- mine?” 
 
 “On the assessment plan, sir. That’s the latest 
 and most approved method. When we have a 
 good map of the lower workings we don’t need any 
 
WJt AND WITS. 36t 
 
 works to speak of. I keep a man in Virginia at 
 $60 a month to superintend the location and write 
 weekly letters ; and I stay in San Francisco in my 
 office on Pine street, and levy the assessments 
 every sixty days — that’s as often as the law allows. 
 I am the President, Board of Trustees, Secretary, 
 Treasurer, and everything — more especially the 
 Treasurer. Of course I draw a salary for all the 
 offices, and when I get through drawing salaries, I 
 turn the rest over to the agent in Virginia to pay 
 oh the hands. By not employing any hands he 
 saves enough to pay himself. This is what I call 
 scientific mining, sir. You get the silver out of 
 the pockets of the stockholders, and leave the vast 
 argentiferous and auriferous deposits in your claim 
 for your children, who can go right ahead and de- 
 velop the mine just as soon as the public quit put- 
 ting up, which isn’t at all likely to happen. As 
 long as people are being born in Nevada and Cali- 
 fornia my mine will run on like a chronometer 
 clock.” 
 
 “But,” said the Utah man, “my style of mining 
 keeps lots of men at work.” 
 
 “So does mine,” quote the Golden Gate chap. 
 “Thousands of men are working night and day to 
 pay the assessments. It keeps the country as busy 
 as a bee-hive,” and the speaker sauntered to the 
 telegraph office to order assessment No. 36. 
 
368 
 
 THE WORLD'^8 
 
 ^ UULGAi^ (Combination. 
 
 He (at Central park menagerie) — How brilliant 
 those South American birds are in their gay plum- 
 age of red, yellow,' and black! 
 
 She — Brilliant enough, but in wretched taste. 
 
 F)OW LCINGOLN ILLUSTI^ATED ^HAT ffliGHT BB 
 
 Done ^ith Sebb. Davis. 
 
 One of the latest of Mr. Lincoln’s stories, was 
 told to a party of gentlemen, who, among the 
 tumbling ruins of the Confederacy, anxiously asked 
 “what he would do with Jeff. Davis?” 
 
 “There was a boy in Springfield,” rephed Mr. 
 Lincoln, “who saved up his money and bought a 
 ‘coon,’ which, after the novelty wore off, became a 
 great nuisance. 
 
 “He was one day leading him through the streets, 
 and had his hands full to keep clear of the little 
 vixen, who liad torn his clothes half off of him. At 
 length he sat down on the curb-stone, completely 
 fagged out. A man passing was stopped by the 
 lad’s disconsolate appearance, and asked the matter. 
 
 “ ‘Oh,’ was the only reply, ‘this coon is such a 
 trouble to me.’ 
 
 “ ‘Why don’t you get rid of him, then?’ said the 
 gentleman. 
 
 “ ‘‘Hush!' said the boy; ‘don’t you see he is gnaw- 
 ing his rope off? I am going to let him do it, and 
 
A VULQAR combination 
 
 P. 36«, 
 
trmur 
 
 OF THE 
 
 WIVERSITV Of ttllNOIS 
 
WIT AND WITS, 
 
 369 
 
 then I will go home and tell the folks that he got 
 aivay from mel ” 
 
 ©Hf^IIiLING FJOMANGE. 
 
 [a la feancaise.] 
 
 M. De Makeshift, when the file of soldiers left 
 him found himself in a dungeon. Not a ray of 
 light penetrated the dismal abode, but De Make- 
 shift’s eyes gradually became so accustomed to the 
 darkness that he say a broom-straw lying in a cor- 
 ner. He caught up the broom-straw, uttered a 
 stifled cry, and pressed it to his heaving bosom. 
 Then, in his despair, het&^^^d his nose with the 
 straw and laughed* 
 
 ‘‘Who laughs?” demanded a voice. 
 
 “I do.” 
 
 “Who are you?” 
 
 “De Makeshift. Who are you?” 
 
 “The Abbe So-Long.” 
 
 “Ah.” 
 
 “Ah, hah.” 
 
 “How long have you been here?” 
 
 “I have now, alas, no method of reckoning time, 
 but I must have been here since sunrise this morn- 
 ing.” 
 
 De Makeshift groaned. “Where are you now?” 
 he asked. 
 
 24 
 
370 
 
 THE WORLD'S 
 
 “In a tunnel,” the abbe repbed. 
 
 “A tunnel?” 
 
 ‘Tes.” 
 
 “You make my^^ai^beat. Where did you get 
 the tunnel n' v U 
 
 “Made it.” * 
 
 “You astonish me.” 
 
 “Ah.” 
 
 “Ah, bah. Where did you get your shovel?” 
 “Had none.” 
 
 “Then how did you make the tunnel?” 
 “Listen.” 
 
 “I will.” 
 
 “I scooped it out with a shirt button. Have 
 you a button on your shirt?” 
 
 “No.” 
 
 “Alas, you are married.” 
 
 “No.” 
 
 “Then why have you no buttons?” 
 
 “A Chinaman does my washing.” 
 
 “Ah.” 
 
 “Ah, hah.” 
 
 “Well, wait until I gouge my way through this 
 rock and I will lend you my button.” 
 
 “0, I thank you.” 
 
 “Hist, the turnkey comes. 
 
 After a long silence: “Has the turnkey gone?” 
 the abbe asked. 
 
tmatr 
 
 , OF the 
 
 VHIVEFilTY Of tllWniH 
 
A LONG, BONY ARM WAS THRUST INTO DE MAKESHIFT’S CELL. P. 37I. 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 371 
 
 ‘‘Not yet.” 
 
 “Well, when he goes tell me and I will resume 
 my work.” 
 
 “All right, he’s gone now.*’ 
 
 “I am at work.” 
 
 Scoup, scoup, scoup. A long, bony arm was 
 thrust into De Makeshift’s cell. De Makeshift 
 seized it and pressed the elbow to his bps. The 
 abbe stepped into t]^e cell. “We must escape from 
 here,” said the abhe. 
 
 “How?” 
 
 “By scaling the walls.” 
 
 “How can we scale them without a knife?” 
 
 “Wait.” 
 
 The abbe took oh his shirt, tore it into shreds 
 and, in a marvelous manner, made a ladder. “Got 
 a couple of pins?” 
 
 “What do you want with them?” 
 
 “Make hooks to go on the end of the ladder.” 
 
 “Here they are.” 
 
 “Now,” said the abbe, bending the pins and fast- 
 ening them on the ladder, “follow me.” 
 
 They passed out into the court-yard. De Make- 
 shift uttered an exclamation. He saw the man who 
 had poisoned his grandfather. The abbe threw the 
 ladder. The pins caught hold ; the two men es- 
 caped. 
 
372 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 The following is an extract from American real- 
 ism : 
 
 ‘'Samuel,” said Miss Peterson, “have you taken 
 the ashes out of the stove?” 
 
 ‘T guess I have.” 
 
 “Did you fix the kindling?” 
 
 “I guess I have.” 
 
 Samuel arose, stretched himself, blew his nose on 
 •a bordered handkercliief, took up a decorated shell, 
 looked at it, put it down, looked at the clock, took 
 up his hat and quietly left the house. His heart 
 was hea^-y, much heavier than his brain. He 
 walked with a slight limp. Why? The corn-doc- 
 tor’s experiment had not been successful. He blew 
 his nose. Then he sneezed. When he reached 
 the street corner he sneezed again. A girl passed, 
 looked back at him and giggled. He despised gig- 
 ghng girls. His sister who married a man who 
 possessed epileptic fits did not giggle. He followed 
 the girl. He despised himself for doing it but he 
 couldn’t help it. It was the first time he had ever 
 followed a girl. He overtook the girl. 
 
 “How are you?” he asked. 
 
 She giggled and said that she was able to get 
 about. 
 
 “I know that,” said he. 
 
 Then they both giggled. He turned and left 
 the girl. His heart was full of sweet sadness, He 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 373 
 
 regretted having spoken to the girl for he had not 
 been brought up with her, yet her bright image, as 
 it hung before him in a neat black- walnut frame, 
 smiled upon him and made his heart beat with joy- 
 ous throbs. ‘‘I must not speak to her again,” he 
 said, but the next minute he ran after her. He 
 overtook her and said : 
 
 “How are you by now?” 
 
 She smiled and said that she was still stirring. 
 He turned and ran away. That night his sleep 
 was not sound. He was in love . — Arhansaiv 
 Traveler. 
 
 (sONGI^ESSIONAIi fflETHODS. 
 
 The clock had struck midnight in the residence 
 of a Congressman, and still the young man in the 
 parlor did not go. The young fellow had been 
 away for two weeks, and the girl’s father was 
 willing that he should have a fair show ; but this 
 was too much, and at last he went to the head of 
 the stairs and listened a minute. 
 
 “Mollie!” he called sharply. 
 
 “Yes, papa,” came the silvery voice of his child, 
 with a slightly smothered accent. 
 
 “It is after 12 o’clock.” 
 
 “Yes, papa, and we are doing all we can to ex- 
 pedite the accumulated business. We will adjourn 
 by-and-by, papa.” 
 
THE WOtiLb^S 
 
 §t4 
 
 The helpless father, unable to answer the argu- 
 ment, returned to his bed in tears. 
 
 F?OW lilNGOLN ^ON A ©ASB PI^OM HIS ©AP^IP- 
 NBI^ — LfAUGHABLE ©OILE^T IGNOI^ANGB. 
 
 While Judge Logan, of Springfield, 111., was 
 Lincoln’s partner, two farmers, who had a mis- 
 understanding respecting a horse trade, went to 
 law. By mutual consent the partners in law be- 
 came antagonists in this case. On the day of the 
 trial Mr. Logan, having bought a new shirt, open 
 in the back, with a huge standing collar, dressed 
 himself in extreme haste, and put on the shirt with 
 the bosom at the back, a linen coat concealing the 
 blunder. He dazed the jury with his knowledge 
 of ‘‘horse points,” and as the day was sultry, took 
 off his coat and summed up in his shirt-sleeves. 
 
 Lincoln sitting behind him, took in the situation, 
 and when his turn came, remarked to the jury : 
 
 “Gentlemen, Mr. Logan has been trying for over 
 an hour to make you believe he knows more about 
 a horse than these honest old farmers who are wit- 
 nesses. He has quoted largely from his ‘horse 
 doctor,’ and now, gentlemen, I submit to you, 
 (here he lifted Logan out of his chair, and turned 
 him with his back to the jury and the crowd, at 
 the same time dipping up the enormous standing 
 
Wit AND WITS, 
 
 375 
 
 collar) what dependence can you place in his horse 
 knowledge when he has not sense enough to put on 
 his shirt V 
 
 The roars of laughter that greeted this exhibi- 
 tion, and the verdict that Lincoln got soon after, 
 gave Logan a permanent prejudice against “bosom 
 shirts.” 
 
 (SONTI^ADIGIIIIONS. 
 
 The man that hath no music ear 
 May grind an org^ still ; 
 
 The pugilist who takes no grain 
 May run a handy mill. 
 
 The man who never struck a soul 
 May yet a striker be ; 
 
 The man who never trod a deck 
 May yet go out to sea. 
 
 A man may be a labor knight. 
 
 Yet not work after dark ; 
 
 A man may never shoot a gun. 
 Yet be a man of mark. 
 
 A woman may be married fast, 
 And always be amiss ; 
 
 A girl may be as rich as mud, 
 
 But not be worth a kiss. 
 
376 
 
 THE WORLD^S 
 
 fflAMIE. 
 
 “Mamie,” said a grammar-school girl to a mem- 
 ber of the graduating class, “have you finished your 
 essay?” 
 
 “0, yes,” gushed Mamie ; “and it is too lovely for 
 anything — a princess slip of white surah, the back 
 cut off a little below the waist line, and full breadths 
 of silk gathered in so as to hang gracefully over the 
 tornure, and three bias ruffles on the ” 
 
 “Why, what are your talking about?” interrupted 
 her friend. “I mean, have you finished writing 
 your essay, you know?” 
 
 “Er — no,” said Mamie, her enthusiasm rapidly 
 diminishing; “but I have begun it, and I wish the 
 awful thing was in Halifax!” 
 
 “What’s the subject?” 
 
 “ 'The Curse of Slang.’ ” 
 
 “Gracious ! Isn’t that a difficult subiect to write 
 up?” 
 
 “Diflicult! Well, I should giggle! I’ll have to 
 hump myself to get it finished in time for the com- 
 mencement, and I’ve a good notion to let it slide. 
 I might shut up the Professor’s optic by pleading 
 illness, but I’m not that sort of a hairpin. But 
 come, waltz up into my room and look at my stun- 
 ning graduating harness. It’ll paralyze you, — 
 Norristown Herald. 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 377 
 
 Floof^ed On Prussian. 
 
 He had studied every lexicon from Ancient Mede 
 to Mexican, 
 
 ' Knew Assyrian, Sanscrit, Greek; 
 
 Knew the shape of sword and sandal of the Visigoth 
 and Vandal, 
 
 And the old Etruscan features and physique. 
 
 He could write a song or sermon in old Celt or 
 ancient German, 
 
 And sing Italian songs and roundelays. 
 
 Describe Tiglath-Pilezer, the herbivorous Neb’ chad- 
 nezzar. 
 
 And all the kings and queens of olden days ; 
 
 He knew Nimrod, Noah, Cyrus and the monarchs 
 of Epirus, 
 
 And gave scholarly descriptions of their deeds. 
 
 He could lend an added splendor to the ancient 
 witch of Endor, 
 
 And describe the early monarchs of the Swedes. 
 
 But when he turned to Eussian, he reeled with the 
 concussion 
 
 Of a word that parched and paralyzed and stung, 
 
 For Ivan- Adamowski- Shanki-Eanoff-Peter- Squosh- 
 kie 
 
 Completely tied and tangled up his tongue. 
 
 — Tid-Bits. 
 
378 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 Safe Blage. 
 
 May to Flora (both daughters of lawyers) — Oh, 
 Flora! I have just received a love-letter from my 
 Charlie, and papa forbids the correspondence, and 
 I do want so much to keep his letter, so what shall 
 I do to keep papa from getting it ? 
 
 Flora — Why, May, I find it the safest to put such 
 secrets in my father’s law books. They are never 
 disturbed there, 
 
 ©HE SUMMEr? 
 
 [boston coueiek.] 
 
 Though her hair be black or her hair be red, 
 
 Or hei eyes be hazel or brown. 
 
 She’s fairer by far than the lily or rose. 
 
 The girl with the muslin gowm. 
 
 The haughty queen, in her royal robes, 
 
 With her scepter and golden crown, 
 
 Is not so fair in the month of June 
 As the girl with the muslin gown. 
 
 On nothing fairer upon the earth 
 The sun or the moon looks down; 
 
 She’s as sweet and fresh as the morning breeze, 
 The girl in the muslin gown. 
 
THE GIRL WITH THE MUSLIN GOWN. 
 
 P. 378. 
 
UBRftfWf 
 Of THE 
 
 UMIVER81TY Of MAWOIS 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 379 
 
 Bl^IEP ©OMIGALITIES. 
 
 ^‘Papa, why do women use yeast in making 
 bread?” 
 
 ‘‘To make it rise, my son.” 
 
 “But why do they want to make it rise, papa?” 
 
 “So that it will be high bread, my son.” 
 
 A lad was sent to one of our grocery stores for 
 some barley for soup, but he forgot what he was 
 after, and said he thought they wanted something 
 for soap, and so the obliging proprietor put him up 
 five cents’ worth of potash. 
 
 Judson — Got behind with your rent, you say? 
 
 Timpkins — Yes. 
 
 Judson — What is it iimn^To? 
 
 Timpkins — MyT^'^J^fdr .♦ 
 
 At the Hoidicultural exhibition — He — This is a 
 lime tree, Clara. But you are not looking. 
 
 She — Yes, Charles, I see it ; hut I was wondering 
 how they extract the mortar from it. 
 
 “The circus is one of the oldest diversions known 
 to man,” says an exchange. So is the circus joke. 
 
 “This is a very healthy place,” observed a board- 
 ing mistress. 
 
 “Yes — for chickens,” said the boarder. “I have 
 been here two years and haven’t seen a dead one 
 yet.” 
 
380 
 
 THE WORLDS S 
 
 She took the hint. 
 It 
 
 ral that “Songs WithonI; 
 written by Mendelssohn. 
 
 Words 
 
 If they had S^ompose'd I5y Mendelsdaughter 
 
 they would have had words. 
 
 It is easy enough to be agreeable in society. All 
 you have to do is to listen while the other man 
 talks. If the other man is a woman you’ve got to 
 listen anyway. 
 
 People who always mind their own business in 
 this world get rich faster than people of the other 
 kind do, but they lose lots of fun. 
 
 People going on excursions are so happy to get 
 home that they are glad they went. 
 
 The red flag of the Anarchist, like that of the 
 auctioneer, should be a signal that everything 
 under it is to be knocked down. 
 
 The “famous green-corn dance of the Seminoles” 
 is described by a witness as a “wild, grotesque 
 series of leaps and contortions to the wierd music 
 of a dirge-like, mournful chant.” Then, so far as 
 we can grasp it, it seems to have been a weak im- 
 itation of the common green-apple dance of the 
 pale face, with the painkiller left oiit. 
 
 The Anarchists are claiming that they still “hold 
 their own.” Nobody will object to this. It is only 
 
imm 
 
 . Of THE 
 OHIVERSITY Of ftUHOtS 
 
A NEW MATERIAL FOR BONNETS, 
 
 P. 381, 
 
WIT AND WITS, 
 
 381 
 
 when they attempt to hold some other fellow’s own 
 that we rise to expostulate. 
 
 ^ Hew fflAJPEi^iAii EOi^ BoNNEirs. 
 
 “Miranda, my love (hie), there’s a new material 
 been found (hie) for bonnets.” 
 
 “What is it, pray?” 
 
 “Leathery fungoid. You (hie) soak it in water 
 and it stakes any (hie) shape. A great saving, don’t 
 you see?” 
 
 “Yes. I’ve a suspieion your head is made out 
 of it. Go soak it in water. It may not alter the 
 shape, but will be likely to sober you up a little. 
 Hold it under the hydrant for an hour and a half, 
 dear .” — Philadeljphia Call. 
 
 ^ HAI^F^OW eSGAPE. 
 
 “Are we all here?” inquired Mr. Brutal Jones of 
 his landlady the other morning at the breakfast 
 table. 
 
 “I think so; one, two, three, four; yes, you are 
 all here, I believe,” and she smiled sweetly; “why?” 
 
 “Nothing much, only I see by the morning paper 
 that a human skeleton was picked up just outside 
 the city limits.” 
 
 The smile vanished . — Merchant Traveler. 
 
382 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 INGONSISITENGY. 
 
 Sitting with charming Mabel at the play, 
 
 I heard a valorous wooer vainly speak, 
 
 And saw a pearly teardrop course its way 
 Adown the pale pink velvet of her cheek. 
 
 “Alas! thou inconsistent maid,” thought I, 
 
 “Thou weepest on beholding him forlorn. 
 
 But, when before thy feet I sue and sigh. 
 
 Thou laughest all my ardent vows to scorn!”. 
 
 — Clinton Scollard in Life, 
 
 ©HE 05ANJIIS OP A CQODEI^ATE fflAN. 
 
 He said he had no wish to be opulent, with a bank- 
 book rotund, and distended, and corpulent; 
 but he didn’t wish to hve like the primitive - 
 Quakers, or butchers, or bakers, or candle- 
 stick-makers, but in a fine brown-stone sur- 
 rounded by statues, and set in a lawn of some 
 forty- seven acres. 
 
 Applause for dear clothing was not worth the win- 
 ning, he desired no wardrobe of purple and 
 linen ; but he didn’t wish to go attired hke a 
 sailor, or dress in a uniform suit hke a jailer; 
 and all that he wished was some two dozen 
 changes made up in good style by a fashion- 
 able tailor. 
 
WIT AND WIT 
 
 383 
 
 He wished no rich viands to gladden his peptics, 
 or to coddle his stomach like chronic dyspep- 
 tics ; hut he wished a cuisine and a French 
 cook to cater, a professional expert, no com- 
 monplace waiter, no statuesque, boarding- 
 house, imbecile bungler to scatter his chaos 
 of pie and potato. 
 
 He wished no small army of liveried dependents, 
 no uniformed lackeys and cringing attendants ; 
 but he didn’t wish to live like a hermit or 
 miser, but in plentiful leisure as better and 
 wiser; and some twenty servants and forty 
 good waiters would make life worth living for 
 him and Eliza . — Lynn Union. 
 
 Fixing Up. 
 
 The next day after a man moved into a town in 
 western Dakota, the mayor called on him and said : 
 
 “Just arrived from the east, I hear?” 
 
 “Yes.” 
 
 “Believe your name is Jones?” 
 
 “That’s it.” 
 
 “No title, I suppose?” 
 
 “None.” 
 
 “Of course you will want one now, but I’ll tell 
 you just how it is; we haven’t got much left to 
 select from. We limited each title to five persons. 
 
384 
 
 THE WORLD'^S 
 
 and we already have five colonels, five senators, 
 five governors, five judges, and so on. We aren’t 
 quite full on majors and commodores, however, and 
 you can take your choice.” 
 
 “Well, if it’s customary I believe I’ll take 
 major.” 
 
 “All right, major. Come on down to Judge 
 Pott’s poker parlors and I’ll introduce you to Sen- 
 ator Blow, Gen. McGore, and other of our leading 
 citizens .” — Estelline (D. T.) Bell, 
 
 fl RAr^I^OW eSGAPB. 
 
 “Ah!” she said, “I loved once.” 
 
 “Did you?” 
 
 “ITes, I thought ne was a god, a kind of superior 
 creation. My parents would not hear of the match. 
 The more thej^ objected the more I loved him. We 
 kept up a correspondence secretly. We had ar- 
 ranged to be married. My parents were stern and 
 cruel, but I had a bosom friend, who was married, 
 and she had arranged that the ceremony should 
 take place at her house, unknown to any of my 
 family. Three days before I heard strange stories 
 about my beloved. I broke off the engagement. 
 He came to the house ; he groveled' on his knees 
 before me. He swore by all the old and several new 
 gods that he loved me, and me alone, I relented, 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 385 
 
 and the wedding was to come off at the home of 
 my bosom friend.” 
 
 ‘‘Well?” 
 
 “The day before the wedding my bosom friend’s 
 husband got into a convivial crowd and drank a lit- 
 tle too much. In a burst of good humor he invited 
 my brother to the wedding, and I was securely 
 locked up until I was brought to terms.” 
 
 “And now ” 
 
 “Aiid now I’m awfully glad of it.” 
 
 Y}E]^ ^AS Good. 
 
 A 4-year- old miss who has been in the habit of 
 making a daily visit to her music teacher via the 
 High street car line found herself on a recent morn- 
 ing minus the customary ticket or the necessary 
 three-cent fare. Nothing daunted, she stopped the 
 car at the usual corner, took her seat and quietly 
 awaited events. The rest of the story is best told 
 in her own words : 
 
 “The conductor, he came, and said ‘Tickets, 
 please.’ ‘I haven’ any this morning.’ ‘Then I 
 must have three cents.’ ‘But I haven’t any money, 
 either.’ ‘Where are you going?’ ‘0, I’m going to 
 ’Cademy of Music, and I want to stop at Dorrance 
 street.’ ‘But did you think you could ride without 
 
 26 
 
386 
 
 THE WOBLHS 
 
 a ticket or money?’ 0, yes, ’cause I always pay 
 when I have any money.’ ” 
 
 Her credit was good and she got there. — Provi- 
 dence Journal. 
 
 eiGNiGs Supplied. 
 
 There is a down-town grocery, which, among 
 other legends in the window, displays this sign: 
 “Picnics Supplied.” 
 
 A meek-faced young man went into this store 
 the other day, and, pointing with his thumb over 
 his shoulder at this picnic sign, he remarked to a 
 salesman : 
 
 “I’ll take one with about one girl, please, with 
 the requisite allowance of champagne, a few tongue 
 sandwiches, and a box of sardines, and no bugs, no 
 flies, no grasshoppers. Eemember — one girl will 
 do.” 
 
 “Wh-what is it you want, sir?” 
 
 “Why, a picnic, to be sure. Don’t you advertise 
 ‘Picnics supphed’ in the window?” 
 
 For?Gir^0^-^ABiT Shbajpi^b. 
 
 “That gentleman seems to have a hard tirne 
 finding his seat; must be near-sighted.” 
 
 “Not at all. Only another proof of the force of 
 habit.” 
 
UBoar 
 
 Of THE 
 
 umvERsrry or ituHOis 
 
GETTING AT THE PASS'WORD. 
 
 P. 387. 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 387 
 
 ‘‘How so?” 
 
 “He used to be an usher.” 
 
 Getiping at^ifhb Bass-OJoi^d. 
 
 An amusing story is attributed to the late Presi- 
 dent Lincoln about the Iowa First, and the 
 changes which a certain pass-word underwent 
 about the time of the battle of Springfield. One 
 of the Dubuque officers, whose duty it was to fur- 
 nish the guards with a pass-word for the night, 
 gave the word “Potomac.” A German on guard, 
 not comprehending distinctly the difference between 
 B’s and P’s, understood it to be “Bottomic,” and 
 this, on being transferred to another, was corrupted 
 into “Buttermilk.” Soon afterwards the officer 
 who had given the word wished to return through 
 the hues, and on approaching a sentinel was ordered 
 to halt, and the word demanded. He gave the 
 word “Potomac.” 
 
 “Nicht right; you don’t pass mit me dis way.” 
 
 “But this is the word, and I will pass.” 
 
 “No, you stan’,” at the same time placing a bay- 
 onet at his breast, in a manner that told the officer 
 that “Potomac” didn’t pass in Missouri. 
 
 “What is the word, then?” 
 
 “Buttermilk.” 
 
 “Well, then, buttermilk.” 
 
388 
 
 THE WOHLH^ 
 
 •‘Dat is right; now you pass mit yourself all 
 about your pisiness.” 
 
 There was then a general overhauling of the 
 pass-word, and the difference between Potomac 
 and Buttermilk being understood, the joke became 
 one of the laughable incidents of the campaign. 
 
 She Biitied jhhb ©lei^K- 
 
 Lawyer’s Wife — How is it, Mr. De Puyster? I 
 understand Mr. Bond is terribly severe with you at 
 times ? 
 
 Lawyer’s Clerk (who is a short-hand writer)— 
 That doesn’t begin to express it, Mrs. Bond. Some 
 days when he has lots of work on hand he dictates 
 to me all day. It’s terrible. 
 
 Lawyer’s Wife — Well, I’m sorry, Mr. De Puy- 
 ster. I see I shall have to be less severe with him 
 at home. 
 
 ©ef^ihainly Horn . 
 
 Uncle Jake — Peter, I hears you pays your ’specs 
 to my darter. Now ef you means bizness, wot is 
 your bizness? 
 
 Peter — I’se keepin’ hooks for Dobson & Co. 
 
 Uncle Jake — Um! Ah! Does you keep ’em in 
 single or double entry, Peter? 
 
“ TINK i’d keep WALYBLES IN THE ENTRY?” 
 
 P. 388. 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 389 
 
 Peter — Ain’t no sich fool chile as dat. I puts 
 ’em in de safe down cellah ebry night. Tink I’d 
 keep walybles in de entry? 
 
 ^ Dippbi^bngb. 
 
 A member in a silver speech slapped at the na- 
 tional banks, and in a loud voice exclaimed: 
 
 ‘‘What is the difierence between my note and a 
 national bank note?” '' 
 
 ^‘You can buy something with a bank note,” 
 chipped in an opponent, before the Texan could 
 answer bis own question. 
 
 ©HB ©BNDBI^ liANGUAGB. 
 
 Buxom Widow (at evening party) — Do you 
 understand the language of flowers. Dr. Crusty? 
 
 Dr. Crusty (an old bachelor) — No, ma’am. 
 
 Widow — You don’t know if yellow means jeal- 
 ousy? 
 
 Dr. Crusty — No, ma’am. Yellow means bill- 
 iousness. 
 
 you ©AN’T DODGB It. 
 
 •‘You can’t avoid a stroke of lightning by dodg- 
 ing,” says a newspaper item. This is a very 
 long-beaded statement and will probably cause a 
 
390 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 sensation when it gets out. It is equally impossi- 
 ble to avoid a stroke of lightning by going out the 
 back door and telling the office boy to say you are 
 off on a fishing trip and won’t be back for two 
 weeks . — Estelline (D. T.) Bell. 
 
 ffliGHT Find Some FJemedy. 
 
 “General Hender^om I see by the paper, is one 
 of the few congreaPH^vho have sonorous voices.” 
 
 “Indeed h^tdie something for it!” 
 — Tid-Bits. 
 
 ©HBODOI^B ©HOMAS flr^iPISiIiIGALLY 
 ©ONSIDBI^BD. 
 
 “What nonsense 1 Herr Musickwitz says Theo- 
 dore Thomas is not regarded as a musician in 
 Cincinnati.” 
 
 “There may be something in that. Thomas 
 never was a beer-drinking man, you know.” 
 
 ©EGUlilAI^IJIiIBS OP SNGIjISH liAW. 
 
 Clara — What awfully queer people those Enghsh 
 are. They won’t let people marry after a certain 
 hour in the morning, and a woman can’t marry her 
 brother-in-law, and dear knows what all. 
 
OF TKE 
 BNtVERSiTy WHIWOIS 
 
/ 
 
 THE CHEMISTRY OF FOOD. 
 
 P. 391. 
 
WIT AND WITS, 
 
 391 
 
 Dora — Yes, and that reminds me they’ve been 
 trying to regulate the fashions lately. 
 
 “I shouldn’t wonder a bit. In what way?” 
 
 “I don’t know exactly, but the paper says if Mr. 
 Gladstone’s bill had gone through they would have 
 had trouble with the Ulsters.” 
 
 ©HE ©HBMISIPI^Y OP FOOD. 
 
 Mr. Klinks — I don’t see why you eat so much of 
 that stuff. It will ruin your health. 
 
 Mrs. Klinks — It is the very best confectionery in 
 the city, dear. 
 
 “It’s more than half glucose.” 
 
 “What’s that?” 
 
 “It’s made out of corn.” 
 
 “Is it very unwholesome?” 
 
 “Rank poison.” 
 
 “Well, I shouldn’t wonder. That bottle you 
 brought home last night had the word “corn” on 
 it.” 
 
 Uppei^ ©endom Rosing I^ps Sinews. 
 
 Mrs. Societie — This fashion magazine says the 
 male domestic servant is rapidly disappearing from 
 the best houses. 
 
 Mr. Societie — Yes, and the worst of it is, the 
 daughters are disappearing with them. 
 
392 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 She Foi^goit ©hat Dr^ESS ©oats ^ei^e 
 OUTI^E. 
 
 “Mrs. Uppercrust, I am ashamed of you!” 
 
 “Why, George, dear, what have I been doing?” 
 “The idea of talking before all. the company in 
 that effusive, flirty way with that young, bald' 
 headed ” 
 
 “Hush, dear, that is Lord Lion.” 
 
 “No, it isn’t; that is the head waiter.” 
 
 Some ©ause flLAi^M. 
 
 First Sociahst — I hobe effry labor men in de 
 gundry vill speag oud aginsed dot labor in prisons. 
 
 Second Socialist — I speag aginsed dose hrison 
 labor at effry meedings. It is pad enough to pud a 
 man in jail. He should haf no vork. 
 
 “Yah. How you dink dose Chicago trials 
 come oud?” 
 
 ©HiGAGO Still in the Lead. 
 
 Eastern Miss — My ma is in Europe and my pa is 
 in New York, and they do all their corresponding 
 by cable. 
 
 Chicago Miss — Pooh, that’s nothing. Why, we 
 do all our marketing by cable, 
 
SHE FORGOT THAT DRESS-COATS WERE OUTRE. 
 
 P. 392. 
 
Of THE 
 
 EINIVCRUTY ormjNots 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 393 
 
 fiN OPPOI^JTUNE fflOMBNiP. 
 
 Mr. Faintheart — Do yon think it would be safe 
 for me to approach your pa on khe subject? 
 
 Miss Fair Lady — Oh, perfectly, he has the gout 
 again. 
 
 flPPI^BGIAlITING THB ^HY AND OJHBI^BBOI^B. 
 
 Great Actor — I see that the noted artist, Alma 
 Tadema, is to paint Mary Anderson. 
 
 Great Actress — Indeed; for what performance? 
 
 ex P LA I N I A Tiioil B A N G B S. 
 
 Brother Jonathan — I can’t understand what you 
 say. What have you got in your mouth? 
 
 Canuck — Wo’ms fo’ bait. 
 
 Unappi^bgiaipbd Gallan^fi^y. 
 
 Ben: Perley Poore in Boston Budget: Tom 
 Corwin asserted one day in his committee-room 
 that it was never safe to interfere between husband 
 and wife, and in support of his declaration narrated 
 an instance which occurred when he was animated 
 by the ardor and chivalry of youth. Traveling in 
 a little-frequented rural district he came upon a 
 cabin from behind which he heard the angry voice 
 
394 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 of a man mingled with the screams of a woman 
 and at regular int erva ls a hickory singing through 
 the air as if well He rode round to get 
 
 sight of the ^ ■'all- tMs lilamor, when he saw 
 
 a burly-looking fellow thrashing his wife hke fury 
 with a stick too formidable to be within the mean- 
 ing of the statute. On seeing our friend the 
 belligerent suspended, the ‘‘shower of timber” 
 ceased to fall, and there was a great calm of a few 
 moments’ duration. The young man, whose wrath 
 had suddenly waxed hot against the cruel husband, 
 ' cried out: “You brute! you rascal! throw down 
 that whip, and don’t touch that woman again, or 
 I’ll wear it out over your own ugly carcass ! you 
 savage, you!” Who should respond to this vahant 
 defiance but the injured lady herself. Turning her 
 blowzed hair out of her face, and giving her fist a 
 portentous shake, she squalled out: “He’s as good 
 as you are, you gawky, good-for-nothing creeter, 
 you!” 
 
 IOhy She Oughjp to Weai^ Glasses. 
 
 “How old would you take me to be, Mr. Snooks?” 
 she lisped, looking unutterable things at him. 
 
 “I dunno,” he replied, twisting nervously about 
 in his chair. 
 
 “I’m awfully old, I assure you. I’ve seen twenty- 
 three summers!” 
 
vmmr 
 
 .. 
 
 UWIVERSITY or tUINOtS 
 
BUSINESS IS BUSINESS. 
 
 P 395- 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 395 
 
 “Then yon ought to wear glasses,” he replied, 
 earnestly. 
 
 “Why, Mr. Snooks! glasses at twenty-three?” 
 
 “Yes; your eyesight must be bad.” 
 
 “I’m sure I don’t know why you should think 
 so,” she pouted. 
 
 “Because I’m afraid about twenty summers have 
 gone by you that you haven’t seen.” 
 
 business Is Business. 
 
 Mr. Eosenschweizer (entering a country store) — 
 Ah, how do you do, Mr. Jayhawk? How vas 
 drade? Dake a cigar. Beautiful vether, ain’t it? 
 Vant any goots in our line, Mr. Jayhawk? 
 
 Mr. J. — No, reckon not. Store is all stocked up. 
 
 Mr. E. — Is dot so? I’m very sorry. May I 
 drouble you to give me dot cigar? I got to gif it 
 to Mr. Gawk agross der vay . — The Bavihler. 
 
 ■ FOUI^ OP ©HEM. 
 
 Gen. Sherwin was examining men for the police 
 force a few days since under the new civil service 
 rules. One candidate was asked what four penal 
 institutions there were in Boston. He replied 
 promptly: “The jail, state’s prison, the House of 
 Industry, and the Institute of Technology!” 
 
396 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 no FJELIEP in SlGHip. 
 
 Smith — That dog of yours keeps me awake 
 nights, howling. 
 
 Jones — Why, I have no dog. It must be my 
 daughter singing. 
 
 Smith — Is that so? Excuse me. I am sorry. 
 I don’t suppose she can be shot, eh? — Judge. 
 
 (Joi^E ON (Shase. 
 
 One day, while the American war was going on, 
 and Secretary Chase was issuing the paper money, 
 know as “greenbacks,” in large quantities, he found 
 upon a desk in his office a drawing of an ingenious 
 invention for turning gold eagles into “greenbacks,” 
 with a portrait of himself feeding it with “yeller 
 boys,” at one end, while the government currency 
 came out at the other end, flying about hke leaves 
 of Autum. fjiyii^y^ie was examining the drawing, 
 Presidep4^^^^J^;,Q^^ and, recognizing the 
 likeness ofme secretary, 'exclaimed : 
 
 “Capital joke, isn’t it, Mr. Chase?” 
 
 “A joke,” said the irate financier, “I’d give a 
 thousand dollars to know who left that here.” 
 
 “Would you, indeed?” said the President, “and 
 which end would you pay from?” 
 
 The answer is not “recorded.” 
 
OF TM 
 
 UNtVEfISiTY OFKUNOtS 
 
THE SWEET GIRL GRADUATE. 
 
 P- 397- 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 397 
 
 P RBGESSAI^Y gl^EGAUTION. 
 
 Small boy (to policeman in front of a saloon) — 
 “Hey! Hold yer breath; here comes der rounds- 
 man .” — The Judge. 
 
 ©HE Sweet Gii^L-Gr^ADUATE. 
 
 When the merry month of May, 
 
 With its flowers, is over. 
 
 And the thrush’s roundelay 
 Echoes from the clover; 
 
 When all Nature is atune. 
 
 And each bird discloses 
 That it is the month of June, 
 Garlanded with roses — 
 
 Then it is we fondly wait, 
 
 For the sweet girl-graduate. 
 
 With her essay ribbon-bound. 
 
 Manner shy but winning, 
 
 Blushingly she looks around. 
 
 Ere she reads, beginning: 
 
 “Out upon the sea of life” 
 
 Don’t you recognize it! ^ 
 
 Hackneyed from its years of strife. 
 
 Just the same we prize it. 
 
 Heaven send a kindly fate 
 
 To the sweet girl-graduate! — Tid-Bits. 
 
398 
 
 TEE WORLES 
 
 fl Pleasant I^egeption. 
 
 Employer (to collector) — See Mr. Smith? 
 Collector — Oh, yes. 
 
 Employer — Was he annoyed at yonr calling upon 
 him. 
 
 Collector — Not a bit. He asked me to call 
 again. 
 
 Gi^eajt ©imes on the I^ivei^. 
 
 ‘'Low water?” observed an old river man. 
 “Why, the present stage isn’t a marker to what it 
 was in the summer of 1863. Then it was low 
 water. I was on the old Savannah, a stern -wheel 
 boat that used to run between St. Louis and St. 
 Paul. It got too low for us and the old boat was 
 tied up here in St. Paul after being fifteen days 
 making the trip up the river. Why, it was so 
 blamed low that the old wheel was kept going back- 
 ward half the time trying to throw water under the 
 boat so as to float her.” 
 
 ©HE Soil ^as Uei^y ©hin. 
 
 There was hving in the edge of Wayland a few 
 years ago, a quaint and somewhat original old 
 gentleman of the name of Adams, known to all the 
 neighborhood for miles around by his harmless but 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 399 
 
 sometimes amusing peculiarities. ‘‘Gus” Somerby, 
 whose early death a few months ago deprived the 
 Middlesex bar of one of its brightest lawyers and 
 society of one of the best of good fellows, used to 
 tell a story about the old gentleman which will 
 bear repeating. 
 
 The Squire was driving towards Wayland early 
 one summer morning when he discovered Mr. 
 Adams making his way afield with the necessary 
 haying-tools — a jug and a scythe — and stopped to 
 have a chat with him. The soil in that part of the 
 country is very thin and sandy, and the hay crop 
 always light, and the good-humored lawyer took 
 occasion to remark upon the fact and to pity the 
 farmers who were obliged to wring a scanty hving 
 from such barren acres. The old gentleman heard 
 him patiently for a time, but at length broke out : 
 
 “Look here. Squire, you’re wasting your sym- 
 pathy; I ain’t so cussed poor as you think I am — 
 I don’t own this farm.” 
 
 Keturning towards evening “Gus” looked out 
 again for the old man, and at length discovered 
 him crawling on all fours between the scattered 
 haycocks towards home — a method of locomotion 
 rendered necessary by the faithfulness with which 
 he had attended to the jug part of his outfit during 
 the day. Stopping his horse the lawyer hailed the 
 old gentleman and offered to come over and assist 
 
400 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 him to his feet. ^Yith as much dignity as his atti- 
 tude and general situation would permit the fallen 
 agriculturist waved him away and shouted hack : 
 
 “Keep off o’ here! ’tain’t safe! .The 'soil’s so 
 thin here, now the crop’s off, that it won’t bear a 
 man endways; much as ever it’ll keep me up flat- 
 ways!” 
 
 Shy G^upBiSur^pi^iSED ©hem. 
 
 the tea-table, “young 
 Jordan was out driving with Miss Popinjoy the 
 other evening and liis horse ran away. They were, 
 both thrown out and the buggy was smashed to 
 pieces. It was a providential escape for both of 
 them ; hut I can’t understand how the young man 
 came to lose control of his horse.” 
 
 “He must have been driving with one hand,” 
 flippantly suggested the minister’s eldest son — a 
 wild rake of a boy. 
 
 “Or perhaps he had the reins around his neck,” 
 said Edith, a shy young beauty of 16, with a charm- 
 ingly modest mein. And then everybody exclaimed 
 in chorus: 
 
 “Why, Edith!” 
 
Of TMC 
 tMOVIWITY 0# ittINOtS 
 
 I 
 
BILL NYE CONDOLES WITH CLEVELAND. 
 
 P. 401. 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 401 
 
 GROVER CLEVELAND. 
 
 Bill Uyb condoles with i^lbyeland. 
 
 SUKPKISE EXPKESSED THAT THE PKESIDENT SHOULD TAKE 
 A MOTHEK-IN-LAW INTO HIS CABINET AND ADD 
 HOUSEKEEPING TO HIS OTHEK AGONY. 
 
 Hudson, Wis., June 3, 1886. 
 The Hon. Grover Cleveland., Washington^ D. C.: 
 
 My Dear Sir: You have now assumed anew 
 duty and taken upon yourself an additional respon- 
 sibility. Not content with the great weight of 
 national affairs, sufficient to crush any other pachy- 
 derm, you have cheerfully and almost gleefully 
 become a married man. While I cannot agree 
 with you politically, Grover, I am forced to admire 
 your courage. 
 
 This morning a new life opens out to you — the 
 life of a married man. It is indeed a humiliating 
 situation. To be a jnesident of the United States, 
 the roustabout of a free people, is a trying situa- 
 
402 
 
 TEE WO RLE 8 
 
 tion ; but to be a newly married president, married 
 in the full glare of official hfe, with the eye of a 
 divided constituency upon you, is to place yourself 
 where nerve is absolutely essential. 
 
 I, too, am married, but not under such trying 
 circumstances. Others have been married and still 
 lived, but it has remained for you, Mr. President, 
 young as you are, to pose as a newly wedded presi- 
 dent and to take your new mother-in-law into the 
 cabinet with you. For this reason, I say freely 
 that to walk a slack rope across the moist brow of 
 Niagara and carry a nervous man in a wffieelbarrow 
 sinks into a mere commonplace. Daniel playing 
 “tag” with a denful of half-starved hons becomes a 
 historic cipher, and the Hebrew children, sitting 
 on a rosy bed of red-hot chnkers in the fiery fur- 
 nace, are almost forgotten. 
 
 With a large wad of civil service wedged in 
 among your back teeth, a larger fragment, perhaps, 
 than you were prepared to masticate when you bit 
 it off ; vdth an agonized southern democracy and a 
 clamorous northern constituency; with disappoint 
 ment poorly concealed among your friends and 
 hilarity openly expressed by your enemies ; with the 
 snarl of the vanquished Mr. Davis, who was at one 
 time a sort of president himself, as he rolls up 
 future majorities for your foes; with a lot of shai’p- 
 witted jouiTiahsts walking all over you every twen- 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 403 
 
 ty-four hours and climbing up your stalwart frame 
 with their telegraph repair boots on, I am surprised, 
 Grover, honestly, as between man and man, that 
 you should have tried to add housekeeping to all 
 this other agony. Had you been young and tender 
 under the wings I might have understood it, but 
 you must admit, in the quiet and sanctity of your 
 own home, Grover, that you are no gosling. You 
 have arrived at man’s estate. You have climbed 
 the barbed- wire fence which separates the flufi* and 
 bloom and blossom and bumble-bees of impetuous 
 youth from the yellow fields and shadowy orchards 
 of middle life. You now stand in the full glare of 
 life’s meridian. You are entering upon a new ex- 
 perience. Possibly you think that because you are 
 president the annoyances peculiar to the life of a 
 new, green groom will not reach you. Do not fool 
 yourself in this manner. Others have made the 
 same mistake. Position, wealth and fame cannot 
 shut out the awkward and trying circumstances 
 which attend the married man even as the sparks 
 are prone to fly upward. 
 
 It will seem odd to you at first, Mr. President, 
 after the afi'airs of the nation have been put aside 
 for the day and the government fire proof safe 
 locked up for the night, to go up to your boudoir and 
 converse with a bride, with one corner of her mouth 
 full of pins. A man may write a pretty fair mes- 
 
404 
 
 THE W0RLH8 
 
 sage to congress, one that will be accepted and 
 printed all over the country, and yet he may not he 
 fitted to hold a conversation with one corner of a 
 woman’s mouth while the other is filled with pins. 
 To some men it is given to he great as statesmen, 
 while to others it is given to be fluent conversa- 
 tionalists under these circumstances. 
 
 Mr. President, I may be taking a great hberty in 
 writing to you and touching upon your private 
 affairs, hut I noticed that everybody else was doing 
 it and so I have nerved myself up to write you, 
 having once been a married man myself, though 
 not, as I said, under the same circumstances. 
 AVhen I was married I was only a plain justice of 
 the peace, plodding quietly along and striving to do 
 my duty. You was then sheriff of your county. 
 Little did we think in those days that now you 
 would be a freshly married president and I the 
 author of several pieces which have been printed 
 in the papers. Little did we think then, when I 
 was a justice of the peace in AYyoming and you a 
 sheriff in New York, that to-day your timothy 
 lawn would be kicked all to pieces by your admir- 
 ing constituents, while I would be known and loved 
 wherever the Enghsh language is tampered vdth. 
 
 So we have risen together, you to a point from 
 which you may be easily observed and flayed alive 
 by the newspapers, while I am the same pleasant, 
 
WIT AND W/TS. 
 
 405 
 
 unassuming, gentlemanly friend of the poor that I 
 was when only a justice of the peace and compara- 
 tively unknown. 
 
 I cannot close this letter without expressing a 
 wish that your married life may be a joyous one, as 
 the paper at Laramie has said, “and that no cloud 
 may ever come to mar the horizon of your wedded 
 bliss.” (This sentence is not my own. I copy it 
 verbatim from a wedding notice of my own written 
 by a western journalist who is now at the Old 
 Woman’s Home.) 
 
 Mr. President, I hope you will not feel that 
 I have been too forward in writing to you personal- 
 ly over my own name. I mean to do what is best 
 for you. You can truly say that all I have ever 
 done in this way has been for your good. I speak 
 in a plain way sometimes, but I don’t beat about 
 the bush. I see that you do not want to have any 
 engrossed bills sent to you for a couple of weeks. 
 
 That’s the way I was. I told all my creditors to 
 withhold their engrossed bills during my honey- 
 moon, as I was otherwise engrossed. This remark 
 made me a great many friends and added to my 
 large circle of creditors. It was afterward printed 
 in a foreign paper and explained in a supplement of 
 eight pages. 
 
 We are all pretty well here at home. I may go 
 to Wasliiugton tins fall if I can sell a block of stock 
 
406 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 in the Pauper’s Dream, a rich gold claim of mine 
 on Elk mountain. It is a very rich claim, but 
 needs capital to develo]^ it. (This remark is not 
 original with me. I quote from an exchange.) 
 
 If I do come over to Washington do not- let that 
 make any diflerence in your plans. If I thought 
 your wife would send out to the neighbors and bor- 
 row dishes and such things on my account I would 
 not go a step. 
 
 Just stick your head out of the ^^indow and 
 whistle as soon as the cabinet is gone and I ^dll 
 come up there and spend the evening. 
 
 Eememher that I have not grown cold toward 
 you just because you have married. You will find 
 me the kind of a friend who will not desert you just 
 when you are in trouble. Yours, as heretofore, _ 
 
 Hill Nye. 
 
 P. S. — I send you to-day a card-receiver. It 
 looks like silver. Do not let your wife hear on too 
 hard when she pohshes it. I was afraid you might 
 try to start into keeping house without a card-re- 
 ceiver, so I bought this yesterday. When I got 
 married I forgot to buy a card-receiver, and I guess 
 we would have frozen to death before we could 
 have purchased one, hut friends were more thought- 
 ful, and there were nine of them among the gifts. 
 If you decide that it would not he proper for you 
 to receive presents, you may return the card re- 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 407 
 
 ceiver to me or put it in the cellar-way till I come 
 over there this fall. B. N. 
 
 ©LEYEIiAND'S ©miiE. 
 
 A pretty story, if one could believe it, is told by 
 the Paris correspondent of a Vienna paper. A 
 short time ago a matinee musicale was given by 
 the Duchess Lamotte, and among the guests was 
 the charming bride-elect of President Cleveland, 
 then in Paris completing her trousseau. The young 
 lady was the object of many marks of distinction, 
 the high aristocracy surrounded her, and there was 
 much talk of her position. One lady, the daugh- 
 ter-in-law of the Duchess de Persigny, condoled 
 with Miss Folsom because she would have no title 
 as the wife of a republican president. 
 
 “All would be well, only you will have no title,” 
 said she; “y^^ called Mrs. Cleveland.” 
 
 “But that name is only for strangers,” was the 
 answer of the fair American ; “the president has for 
 intimacy conferred upon me a very particular title.” 
 
 Everybody looked up curiously, and, blushing 
 deeply. Miss Folsom added: “He calls me — his 
 darling. Can a wife desire a better title?” 
 
 The hostess embraced her amiable guest, remark- 
 ing : “You are right, and you appear to me as if 
 you would keep the title to the end of your life.” 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 A. 
 
 About So 227 
 
 Absent-minded, He was Kather 262 
 
 Account Nearly Balanced, The 238 
 
 Advantage, A Decided 127 
 
 Advertisement, A Taking : 225 
 
 Advertiser, An Enterprising 82 
 
 Aged Indeed 379 
 
 Agreeable, How to be 380 
 
 Alarm, Some Cause for 392 
 
 Algebra, Had Been'in 65 
 
 America, How They Might Have Kept 241 
 
 Amusement 209 
 
 Anarchist Claims 380 
 
 Ancestry, Jerrold .204 
 
 Appreciating the Why and Wherefore 393 
 
 Arbitration, He Wished 238 
 
 Ardor, Damped 216 
 
 Arguments, A Knock-down 135 
 
 Arguments for Economy, A Convincing 255 
 
 Assessment Plan, The 366 
 
 Assistance, He Wanted 262 
 
 Attorney’s Last Hope, An, Jerrold 252 
 
 B 
 
 Bachelors and Flirts, Josh Billings 173 
 
 Bad for Yale 251 
 
 Ballad, A Simple 278 
 
 Bank, A Convenient 63 
 
 Banking Experience, Old Ned’s, Opie P. BeiJ 32 
 
 Bars Well-named 29 
 
 Baseball Prizes 93 
 
 Beating a Conductor 175 
 
 409 
 
410 
 
 THE WORLH& 
 
 Beaux, The Two lU 
 
 Beecher, Mark Twain on 69 
 
 Beggar, A Model, Jerrold ^.252 
 
 Best Days, Seen Her 288 
 
 Best Way Out, The 293 
 
 Bicyclist, A Bothered 238 
 
 Big Hat Nuisance, The 220 
 
 Bill Nye Condoles with Cleveland 401 
 
 Bill Nye Discovers a Man with an Idea of Running a Hotel 342 
 
 Bill Nye’s New Biography of Galileo T. . .361 
 
 Bill Nye on the Cow Industry 96 
 
 Bitten, The Biter 92 
 
 Blunder, A Great Man’s 211 
 
 Body and Mind, Jeirold 249 
 
 Bonnets, New Material for 381 
 
 Boston Child’s Wisdom, A 50 
 
 Bostonese for the D. T 28 
 
 Bothering a Boaster 320 
 
 Boy, A Too Clever 231 
 
 Boy’s Essay on Columbus, A 259 
 
 Boy “Forty-niner,” A 29 
 
 Brave and Beautiful 208 
 
 Bred on the Boards, Jerrold 204 
 
 Bridal Gloves, The Correct Thing in 248 
 
 Brief Comicalities 241, 379 
 
 Burned Long Enough, It Had 277 
 
 Business is Business 395 
 
 Business, Merely a Matter of 271 
 
 Business with Her, A 24 
 
 Butler, Ben 255 
 
 C 
 
 Calisthenics .328 
 
 Capers, Funny 267 
 
 Capers of the Muses 290 
 
 Care-Banishers 250 
 
 Cat-echisery 114 
 
 Celebration, A Surfeit of 250 
 
 Certainly Not 388 
 
 Change, A Needed 94 
 
 Chase, A Joke on Secretary 396 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 411 
 
 Chat, A Quiet 103 
 
 Chicago, Columbus Provided for 64 
 
 Chicago Still in the Lead 392 
 
 Chinese Boycott, Suffering from the 271 
 
 Chromo, Style of a 255 
 
 Circumstance, A Rather Strange 224 
 
 Clara’s Presence, Right in 81 
 
 Classical Course, A 85 
 
 Clerk, She Pitied the 388 
 
 Cleveland, Anecdote of Grover 258 
 
 Cleveland, Bill Nye Condoles yvith 401 
 
 Cleveland’s Titles, Mrs 407 
 
 Color to It, J ust to Give 84 
 
 Columbus, A Boy’s Essay on 259 
 
 Columbus Provided for Chicago 64 
 
 Combination, A Vulgar . . . .368 
 
 Company, Looking for 136 
 
 Compulsory, Didn’t Want It 207 
 
 Condition, No Doubt as to His 48 
 
 Conductor, A Very Gentlemanly 225 
 
 Confidence, Told in 146 
 
 Congressional Methods 373 
 
 Congressman, Their Undistinguishable 235 
 
 Conscience, Too Tender A 224 
 
 Consequence, A 241 
 
 Consequence, Another 241 
 
 Consequence, Not A 241 
 
 Contentment, Jerrold 218 
 
 Contradictions 375 
 
 Courts, Three ^ 137 
 
 Credit Was Good, Her 385 
 
 Critic, A Young Musical 208 
 
 Crusades, A Leg-end of the 338 
 
 Cupid, the Book-Agent 299 
 
 Cyclones, Bill Nye 105 
 
 ID 
 
 Damp Sheets, Jerrold 249 
 
 Darkness the Time 241 
 
 Difference, A Marked 389 
 
 Difference, It Made a. 138, 348 
 
412 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 Diner out at Home, The, Jerrold 252 
 
 Dirt Cheap 56 
 
 Disease, A Xew 28 
 
 Ditto, Too, She Took Some 224 
 
 Dog, A California 240 
 
 Door-Spring, That 330 
 
 Drink, That Dreadful 75 
 
 Drunkenness by Inoculation, Curing 256 
 
 Dry, He Was Terribly 279 
 
 Ducks, The Meddlesome 155 
 
 Dudedom, Overheard in 100 
 
 Dude’s Courage, A 63 
 
 E 
 
 Earth, The, Bill Nye 50 
 
 Echoes of the Sale " 76 
 
 Editor, A Truthful 64 
 
 Educated, Too Late to be &4 
 
 Eggs Easily Colored 236 
 
 Encore, Refusing an 62 
 
 Enterprising a Hotellist, Too ; 63 
 
 Escape, A Xarrow 381, 384 
 
 Escaping from an Excursion 380 
 
 Evil, An Hnmixed 62 
 
 Everybody Knew Him 113 
 
 Examination of Girls, The, L. R. Catlin 306 
 
 “Excavating” a Sentence 65 
 
 Exchange, An Even 238 
 
 Excitement in the Churches 59 
 
 Excursion, Going on an 169 
 
 Excuse, A Partial 57 
 
 Explaining Equivocal Utterances 393 
 
 Extract from ‘‘American Realism” 372 
 
 Extract from the Calf 242 
 
 Extras, Charging for 86 
 
 E 
 
 Fact, A Political 242 
 
 Faithless Sally Brown, Tam Hood 167 
 
 Fall, A Remarkable 213 
 
 Fame, The Fickleness of 340 
 
WIT AND WITS, 
 
 413 
 
 Fanny, and Frances. Concerning 283 
 
 Fashion, A New 277 
 
 Father’s Letter, A, Bill Nye 304 
 
 Fellow, A Low 294 
 
 Fish, Some Dakota 63 
 
 Fixing It Up 383 
 
 Flashes 231 
 
 Florence Salmon Fishing, W. J 296 
 
 Flowers, The Conservatory 214 
 
 Food, Chemistry of 391 
 
 Force of Habit at the Theater 386 
 
 Fonr-in-Hand, Fun with a. 269 
 
 Four of Them 395 
 
 Francisco Pizarro’s Career, Bill Nye 315 
 
 Freddy, It Was Only 84 
 
 French for Celery 186 
 
 Fun in the Bellow of the Blast 259 
 
 Furniture, Breaking 215 
 
 a- 
 
 Gallantry, Unappreciated 393 
 
 Gallant Young Man, A 342 
 
 Game, The National 95 
 
 Gardner’s Advice to a Traveler, Bro 234 
 
 Geese, Tough on the 31 
 
 Georgia, Telling Tales in 49 
 
 Germanic Appeal, A 236 
 
 Getting Rich Faster 380 
 
 Ghost, A Frivolous 288 
 
 Gingerbread, Big Demand for 206 
 
 Girl, A Posted 232 
 
 Girl, A Shrewd 36 
 
 Girl-Graduate, The Sweet 397 
 
 Girl of the Query, A 29 
 
 Girl, The Summer 378 
 
 Girls of Cherryvale, The 36 
 
 Glad, He Was 214 
 
 Gold’s Power, Jerrold 252 
 
 Go Out, It Could Not 288 
 
 Graduate, The 2 ^ 
 
414 
 
 TEE WORLES 
 
 “Grant’s Whisky,” Lincoln’s Confab with a Committee on.-. . . .269 
 
 Grass, He Couldn’t Go the 24 
 
 Great Times on the River 398 
 
 Guard, He Was on His 350 
 
 Guilty, They Found Him 138 
 
 KC 
 
 Heading Him Off . .257 
 
 Healthy Chickens 379 
 
 Heart, The Changes of the 216 
 
 He Couldn’t Catch Them Stealing 261 
 
 He Couldn’t Help Doing It 270 
 
 He Knew Them All 227 
 
 Heroism, Testing His 215 
 
 He Was Bold and Bad 133 
 
 High Bread 379 
 
 Hired Men, Too High-Toned ! . . . 30 
 
 Hits the Mark .. 238 
 
 Hope, While There’s Life There’s 86 
 
 How He’d Dolt 190 
 
 How He Missed It 358 
 
 How Lincoln Illustrated Looking out for Breakers 254 
 
 How She Flattened Him 325 
 
 Hunting an Ichthyosaurus, Bill Nye 351 
 
 I 
 
 If 135 
 
 Impressionist, The 38 
 
 Improvement, A Marked 341 
 
 Inconsistency, Clinton Scollard ..382 
 
 Indian, A Puzzled 233 
 
 Indorsement, A Good 101 
 
 Inference, A Probable 255 
 
 Ingersoll on Laughter 
 
 Inquisitive, He Was Too 283 
 
 Interrupted 268 
 
 Introduced Herself, She 244 
 
 Ire- land 243 
 
 Irish Debt, An 146 
 
 Isaac, How to Spell 174 
 
 Isaac’s Taste for Poetry, Mrs. Partington 91 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 415 
 
 J 
 
 Jennie Smith and the Oily Captain 234 
 
 Jerroldiana 252 
 
 Jerroldian Jokings 249 
 
 Jerrold Jokelets 204 
 
 Jerrold’s Luggage 217 
 
 Job, He Wanted the 55 
 
 Jokes, Jerrold 216 
 
 Josh Billings’ Advice to a New Choir-Singer 153 
 
 •Josh Billings’ Philosophy 191 
 
 k: 
 
 Kicking Made no Difference .101 
 
 Knew Less Anatomy than Theology 232 
 
 IL. 
 
 Labor Troubles, Worried Over the .270 
 
 Language, The Tender 389 
 
 Last Vacation 310 
 
 Laughable Toilet Ignoiance 374 
 
 Law and Order 47 
 
 Law, Peculiarities of English 390 
 
 Laws, The Clearest of All, Jerrold 249 
 
 Lawyer Who Practiced by Ear, A 258 
 
 Leaving the Farm 256 
 
 Legal Advice, Sound 228 
 
 Legal Assistance 115 
 
 Les Incomprehensibles, Victor Hugo 199 
 
 Lesson, A Primary 272 
 
 Let Them Go in Place of Ballet Dancing 250 
 
 “Life,” Taken from 113 
 
 Limburger, Ripe 43 
 
 Lime Business was Slack, The 225 
 
 Limekiln Club, Bro. Gardner’s 160 
 
 Lincoln and His New Hat. 341 
 
 Lincoln and Judge B— Swapped Horses, How 217 
 
 Lincoln and the Little Boy 339 
 
 Lincoln Illustrated What Might be Done with Jeff. Davis, How368 
 
 JJncoln in Court 226 
 
 Lincoln in the Black Hawk War 210 
 
410 
 
 THE WORTHS 
 
 LiiicuJn Joking Douglas 329 
 
 Liuc^n on Criticism and Bull Frogs " 281 
 
 Lincoln Squelching an “Obstructor” 229 
 
 Lincoln Won a Case from His Partner, How 374 
 
 Lincoln’s Advice to a Prominent Bachelor 219 
 
 Lincoln's Amusing Illustrations, One of 322 
 
 Lincoln’s Common Sense 260 
 
 Lincoln's Confab with a Committee on ‘‘Grant’s Whisky” 269 
 
 Lincoln’s Drolh'ries, One of 279 
 
 Lincoln’s Last Stories, One of 289 
 
 Linci Ill’s Story of a Girl in New Salem 207 
 
 Lincoln’s Story of a Poodle Dog L^sed to Wash Windows 293 
 
 Lincoln’s Story of a Young Lawyer 239 
 
 Lincoln’s Story of Daniel Webster's Greatness 251 
 
 Lincoln’s Story of Daniel Webster’s Soiled Hands . , 356 
 
 Lincoln’s Story of Jack Chase 252 
 
 Lincoln’s Stoiy of Sallie Ward's Practical Philosophy 287 
 
 Lincoln’s Story of the Judge and Drunken Coachman 234 
 
 Lincoln’s Story of Thompson Campbell 244 
 
 Lincoln's Story of Trying the “Greens” on Jake. .223 
 
 Lincoln’s Uncle, A Story by 217 
 
 Lochinvar Came Out of the West, Why 65 
 
 Looking for the Mortar T ' 379 
 
 Looking out for Breakers ,254 
 
 Lo’s Last Industrial Refuge ’ 62 
 
 Loss, An Extra Heavy 242 
 
 Lottie’s Last Chance 115 
 
 Love, Jerrold 216, 249 
 
 Love’s Misplay, Young 58 
 
 Lover, A Cautious, Jerrold 205 
 
 Lover, Pluck of a Baptist 37 
 
 Lover’s Aspiration, A, Jerrold 205 
 
 Loving Everybody 243 
 
 ISA. 
 
 Made a Profit Even Then 
 
 Made Him Sad to Think of It 
 
 Mamie 
 
 Man, An Innocent 
 
 Man! Oh, for a 
 
 Mark Twain’s Amusing Sequels to Several Anecdotes- 
 
 ,228 
 
 ,2-57 
 
 .376 
 
 347 
 
 .285 
 
 ,117 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 417 
 
 Mark Twain’s Bad Little Boj’' Who Didn’t Come to Grief 147 
 
 Mark Twain’s Celebrated Jumping Frog Story 139 
 
 Mark Twain’s Diplomacy .* 24 
 
 Mark Twain on Beecher 69 
 
 Mark Twain on Blue Jays :170 
 
 Mark Twain on the Ant 157 
 
 Mark Twain’s Eemarkable Gold Mines 165 
 
 Mark Twain’s Visit to Niagara 178 
 
 Mark Twain’s Watch 129 
 
 Marry, To a Man Who Would 302 
 
 Master, The, Burdette ! 327 
 
 Match Factory, Good for a 233 
 
 Match, They Didn’t 339 
 
 “May Queen” Modernized, The 43 
 
 Mendelsdaughter 380 
 
 Merit Rewarded, True, Bill Nye 78 
 
 Metaphor, A Mixed 65 
 
 Methuselah, Bill Nye 332 
 
 Minnehaha and Minneboohoo, Lincoln 272 
 
 Mistake, He Had Made No 253 
 
 Mistaken Allegation, A 63 
 
 Moment, An Opportune 393 
 
 Money-Lender, The, Jerrold 204 
 
 More Light and Less Noise 276 
 
 Motto, A, Jerrold 252 
 
 Mourning, In 134 
 
 Mourning, 'The Time for, Jerrold 218 
 
 Mouth Smaller, Making the 283 
 
 Music in Her Soul, She Had 214 
 
 Musical Observations, A. Ward 91 
 
 INT 
 
 Name? What’s in a 77 
 
 Necessary Precaution, A 397 
 
 Nerves, Studying the. . . T 206 
 
 Never Too Old to Learn 115 
 
 No Mere Passing Whim 328 
 
 No Relief in Sight 396 
 
 Notes on Some Spring Styles, Bill Nye 273 
 
 Not Room for so Many .261 
 
 No Time 242 
 
418 
 
 THE WORLD'^S 
 
 o 
 
 “Obstructor,” Squelching an 229 
 
 “Ode” to Him, of Course 379 
 
 O. Course He Ke{)t One 271 
 
 Office, The Dignity of 190 
 
 One Escaped Observation 251 
 
 Osculation, Eely O'Malley 146 
 
 Ought to Know 233 
 
 Over the River 282 
 
 Overwork, Another Victim of 93 
 
 :e> 
 
 Paradise Regained 60 
 
 Paradox, The Urchin’s 63 
 
 Parrot, A Pious 206 
 
 Partington’s Early Life, Mrs 124 
 
 Partington’s Trip, Mrs 152 
 
 Party, Mr. Pepper's 219 
 
 Parvenue, Mother and Daughter 221 
 
 Pass-word, Getting at the 387 
 
 Pay Some of Them, He Ought to 109 
 
 PerFiapsXot 75 
 
 Permanently Enlarged, Jerrold 249 
 
 Phunnygrammes 206 
 
 Picnics Supplied 386 
 
 Pictures, She Knew His 211 
 
 Place, A Safe 378 
 
 Playful, He Katuraily Felt 138 
 
 Play, When He Wanted to 55 
 
 Plum, The Sweetest, Jerrold 249 
 
 Porcupine, A Misguided 233 
 
 Postmaster, An Unaccommodating 101 
 
 Potash vs. Barley 379 
 
 Preparing to Make Trouble for Them 245 
 
 Price of Raisins, The 59 
 
 Prisoner, An Accommodating 229 
 
 Prize, The First 110 
 
 Profanity, The Doctor’s 103 
 
 Pjofessor, A 219 
 
 Professor Dusting Rugs, The 221 
 
 Puppy was Hungry, The 77 
 
WIT AND WITS. 
 
 419 
 
 Query for a Sculptor, A 206 
 
 Query, A. G. of the 29 
 
 Radiations 235 
 
 Railroading, Tired of, Opie P. Peid. 87 
 
 Read; Then Sit for a Picture, ilf. Quad 85 
 
 Reason, A Good 321 
 
 Reason for Walking so Far, Good Ill 
 
 Rebel Tell, The 62 
 
 Reception, A Pleasant 398 
 
 Regardless of Expense <-r-. 59 
 
 Relapse, He Had a 295 
 
 Relics, Rare and Valuable 263 
 
 Remedy, A Questionable 295 
 
 Remedy, He Might Find Some 390 
 
 Remembrance, “I?^ot” for 29 
 
 Reply, A Neat 153 
 
 Reputation Upheld, His 36 
 
 Request, The Prisoner’s 338 
 
 Revenge, She Had Her 295 
 
 Riddle 83 
 
 Rightly to be Knocked Down. .380 
 
 Rogue Indeed, A .218 
 
 Romance, A Thrilling 369 
 
 Romancer, A Child Ill 
 
 Rome, A Chicago Man’s Opinion of 288 
 
 Rope, A Child’s Definition of a 242 
 
 Rule, A Convenient 299 
 
 Russian, Floored on 377 
 
 S 
 
 Sacrifice, A Great 349 
 
 Safeguard, An Effective 288 
 
 Said, What They 127 
 
 Sale, Not for 263 
 
 Samuel and Lucinda 267 
 
 Scientific Note, A 322 
 
 Scintillations 62, 224 
 
 Scoundrel, A, Jerrold 204 
 
420 
 
 TEE W0RLE8 
 
 Sea, By the 284 
 
 Seat, She Obtained a 26 
 
 Secret, A Horse- car 298 
 
 Secret, Couldn’t Keep It 237 
 
 Secrets 137 
 
 Self-Defence, In 57 
 
 Seminoles’ Famous Green Corn Dance, The 380 
 
 Shad is Bony, Why the 102 
 
 She Forgot that Dress Coats Were Outre 392 
 
 Shocked, He Was 136 
 
 Shocking in It, Xothing 55 
 
 Shy Edith Surprised Them 400 
 
 Sign, A Cute 7 112 
 
 Sign of Rain, A Sure 255 
 
 Sister, A Generous 76 
 
 Slandered! 237 
 
 Sociable 209 
 
 Soil Was Very Thin, The 398 
 
 “Sold” Both Ways 28 
 
 Something Appropriate 56 
 
 “Sorrows of Werter” Revived 90 
 
 Sparing His Feelings 77 
 
 Spoopendyke’s Collar-Button, Stanley Huntley 187 
 
 Spoopendyke’s New Bathing Suit, Stanley Huntley 193 
 
 Spring Chicken 250 
 
 Spying 126 
 
 Squibs 212 
 
 Statistics 82 
 
 Strike, A Desirable • 62 
 
 Strike of Other Days, A, Burdette 39 
 
 Struck Them Both, How He 25 
 
 Stuffing a Frenchman 246 
 
 Style Only 1 Cent, This 85 
 
 Style, She Didn’t Like the 272 
 
 Success With Small Fruits, Burdette 155 
 
 Surprising Her Papa 298 
 
 Sympathetic, He Was 356 
 
 T 
 
 Talked Too Much, He 66 
 
 Talking, Didn’t Feel Like 213 
 
WIT AND WITS. 42i 
 
 Tariff Policy, The Desired 237 
 
 Tariff Question, A Tilt on the 26 
 
 Teeth, He Wanted the 95 
 
 Telegrapher, A Bushed 66 
 
 Temperance Lecture, A Telling 31 
 
 Theodore Thomas Artistically Considered 390 
 
 They Didn’t Need It 211 
 
 Thing, It Was Just the 48 
 
 Thompson Campbell, Lincoln’s Story of 244 
 
 Traps Set by Jokers 255 
 
 Treason, Jcrrold 218 
 
 Trip, Not a Bad 116 
 
 Trite 241 
 
 Turtle’s Lack of Hair, The 66 
 
 250,000 Passes to Richmond 350 
 
 Tyrants, Down with the * 248 
 
 TJ 
 
 Umpire Probably Officiated, The 240 
 
 Umpirical 250 
 
 Uncle Remus Returns 311 
 
 infortunate 254 
 
 Unfortunate Man, An 324 
 
 Upper Tendom Losing Its Sinews. 391 
 
 Useful at Last 250 
 
 ■V 
 
 Vacuum, Found a 65 
 
 Virgin Forest, Definition of a. 64 
 
 Vote, A Somewhat Cheap 232 
 
 Vote, Better than a 205 
 
 % 
 
 W 
 
 Wales Could, Could Stand It if 134 
 
 Wanted Another Chance to be Good 66 
 
 Wanted to Make It a Sure Thing 243 
 
 Wants of a Moderate Man, The 382 
 
 Watch, Wanted to Keep the 112 
 
 Wealth, Sudden 38 
 
 Wedding, A Colored 297 
 
 Wedding Journey, On the 112 
 
422 
 
 THE WORTH 8 
 
 Welsh Jawbreakers , , tss 
 
 Where Her Papa Comes In 326 
 
 Whiskey CiJsk, A Splendid 329 
 
 Why lie Did Not Go Into the Speculation 301 
 
 Why She Ought to Wear Glasses. 394 
 
 Why the Audience Smiled 323 
 
 Witling to Turn Her Coat 340 
 
 Wishes, Jerrcld 252 
 
 Wise, Witty and Pungent Sayings of Bench and Bar. 263 
 
 Witness, A Precise 145 
 
 Witticisms, Jerrold 218 
 
 Woman, A Generous 58 
 
 Woman’s Reason, A 283 
 
 Wooden-legged Man’s Joke, A 45 
 
 Wool, Taking Off the Duty on 237 
 
 AVork, A Good Day’s 366 
 
 You Can’t Dodge It, Fred. H. Carruth 389 
 
 Youth, An Enterprising 82 
 
 Youth, A Generous 232 
 
The “ Hard-of-Hearing ” Speechless Children 
 in our Schools for the Deaf. 
 
 Paper Read by R. S. Rhodes, of Chi- 
 cago, AT THE Fourteenth Convention of 
 American Teachers of the Deaf, at 
 Flint, Michigan. 
 
 “In what manner can we best serve the interests of 
 those pupils in our institutions, who have a good degree 
 of hearing.^” I find tskis question asked in the reports of 
 the superintendent of one of our large institutions, issued 
 June 30, 1894. I also find in this report a statement 
 that of “384 children whose hearing was accurately 
 tested, 60 had a record of hearing varying in degrees up 
 to ten per cent.; 35 a record varying between ten and 
 twenty per cent. ; 47 between twenty and thirty per 
 cent.; 18 between thirty and forty per cent.; 7 between 
 forty and fifty per cent.; and 16 of fifty per cent, and 
 over” — in all, 183, or nearly fifty percent, of all chil- 
 dren tested, are not totally deaf, but are simply hard-of- 
 hearing people. 
 
 In 1879, I visited many schools for the deaf in this 
 country, and tested the hearing of many deaf children, 
 and in 1880, I visited many institutions and schools in 
 Europe, and have made accurate tests of the hearing of 
 the deaf children wherever I have been; and I find that 
 
THE AUDIPHONE. 
 
 forty per cent, of the children in the in&ticutions and 
 schools throughout the world possess ten per cent, and 
 over of hearing, and are capable of being educated 
 to speak through the sense of hearing with mechanical 
 aid. This being the case, and this question being asked 
 by the superintendents of several of our institutions, 
 showing a willingness on the part of the superintendents 
 of these institutions to utilize this hearing and teach 
 aurally to speak, well, then, may this convention pause 
 to consider this question, affecting the interests of half of 
 the children in the institutions represented by you gentle- 
 men present. And let me say that it not only affects 
 the interests of those children in these schools at the - 
 present day, but will affect the interests of those in all 
 time to come, not only in this country, but other 
 countries throughout the \vorld. Most of you have up to 
 the present time ignored the fact that these children 
 could hear, and have treated them as totally deaf chil- 
 dren, and they have been graduated as such, and in most 
 institutions in the world to-day are being graduated as 
 such. Well, I say, may we consider “in what manner 
 we can best serve the interests of those children who 
 have a good degree of hearing,” and well may this con- 
 vention give much of its time to this important question, 
 and let us answer wisely. God has bestowed upon half 
 the children whose welfare is in your charge ten per 
 cent, and over of nature’s own means of learn- 
 ing to speak. This being known, shall we longer 
 ignore the fact.? We see adults on every hand, more 
 deaf than many of the children in your schools, using 
 
HEARING THROUGH THE TEETH. 
 
 mechanical aids to hearing, and enjoying the use of their 
 own voices, and understanding others well. What they 
 can do with mechanical aids, you can teach these chil- 
 dren, with an equal degree of hearing, to do. Forty per 
 cent, of the children in your schools hear better than I 
 can. My degree of hearing in the left ear is about seven 
 per cent., and nothing in the right, and I can hear with 
 the audiphone, at conversational distances, almost per- 
 fectly, and can hear my own voice, when speaking 
 against it, quite perfectly. You will allow that if the 
 deaf can hear others and can hear themselves, there is no 
 reason why they cannot be educated aurally, if they have 
 mental capacity. No, there is no reason why they cannot^ 
 but there is a reason, and a potent reason, why they are 
 not, and that reason lies with you, the teachers of the 
 deaf. But you cannot be wholly blamed for this, be- 
 cause I allow that even with this instrument which I 
 carry, you, with perfect hearing, find no improvement. 
 But those with imperfect hearing will find great improve- 
 ment. You hand the instrument to one who has never 
 enjoyed the benefit of hearing, in learning articulation, 
 and you find he answers you that he can hear but little, and 
 you use his judgment and say that he cannot hear suffi- 
 ciently with it to learn to speak, when you should know 
 that they who have never learned to speak know nothing 
 of the value of sound, and are perfectly ignorant as to 
 how well they should hear to enable them to learn. You 
 know you are succeeding in some degree in teaching them 
 to speak when they hear nothing; if, then, they may by 
 any means acquire simply the vowel sounds of our lan- 
 guage, by hearing them, what a great advantage would 
 this be to them in learning to speak! And I assert that 
 
tHE AUDIPHONE. 
 
 where a person enjoys one per cent, only of natural 
 hearing, this instrument will improve his hearing to a 
 degree that will enable him to acquire a knowledge 
 aurally of the vowel sounds, and thus enable you to teach 
 him to speak. Sixteen years ago when I visited the in« 
 stitutions in this country and Europe, for the purpose ol 
 urging that the hearing be appealed to, and carried with 
 me this device, and selected classes that could hear, and 
 freely presented this instrument for their use, every child 
 was being instructed as though it were totally deaf, and 
 in some instances I was told that a slight degree of hear- 
 ing rendered a child more difficult to teach by “our" 
 method. That may be very true, for some of these chil- 
 dren possessed twenty or thirty or even fifty per cent, 
 of hearing, and I should suppose that it would be natural 
 for them in such cases to be at first inclined to listen, 
 and it would be some trouble to overcome this inclina- 
 tion. As for me, I believe that ten per cent, of nature’s 
 means, ten per cent, of natural hearing power, is worth 
 more in learning valuable speech than one hundred per 
 cent, of substituted methods. I could teach to speak 
 two languages to a bright student, with ten per cent, of 
 hearing, before you could teach him to speak one with all 
 methods ever used, without the hearing. Yes, ten per 
 cent, of a sense that God has endowed us with is too 
 valuable to throw away, and we have no right to ignore 
 even one per cent., when we have a device which will 
 improve it and make it valuable to us, as in this sense of 
 hearing we certainly have. I am sure the audiphone will 
 improve thirty per cent., and bring one per cent, within 
 the scope of the human voice, and valuable speech may 
 be taught. With the audiphone one may speak to 
 
HEARING THROUGH THE TEETH. 
 
 a dozen or two dozen, or three dozen, at one time; 
 and the sounds that reach the listener with the 
 audiphone, according to my judgment, are far more 
 natural than those reaching the listener by any other 
 instrument. Music itself is perfectly enjoyed with the 
 audiphone, whereas, there is no other instrument that 
 will reveal the harmonies of music in their perfection, 
 and therefore, I say, it is the preferable instrument for 
 teaching, but it is not the only instrument. 
 
 Each child carries an instrument of value, which I be- 
 lieve has never before been spoken of or used, and which 
 I would like to explain to this convention. You may 
 simply allow a deaf child to close his teeth firmly; this 
 brings the upper jaw in tension, and when his teeth are 
 firmly closed, he may speak and hear his own voice 
 more distinctly. You will not hear him so well, but he 
 will hear himself better, and he may study in this 
 manner, with his teeth firmly pressed together, until he 
 can acquire the knowledge of every sound in the 
 English language, and one must be exceedingly deaf — I 
 would say totally deaf — if he cannot hear himself speak 
 with his teeth firmly closed together. Now, you gentle- 
 men of perfect hearing may try this; you will find it 
 gives you no results, but do not decide at once that what 
 I have said is not true. Let those who are deaf try it, 
 and they will find that they can hear. Thus, the deaf 
 have some advantages; it requires a deaf person to hear 
 through his teeth. This may be one reason why some 
 teachers decide that the audiphone is not of value to the 
 ^eaf, simply because they of perfect hearing cannot hear 
 v/ith it. With the double audiphone you speak between 
 I ho discs, and you get back to yourself the double power 
 
THE AUDIPHONE. 
 
 of your voice — that is, the deaf will get it back. One 
 with perfect hearing will see no results, because the 
 same result will be attained through the natural organ 
 first, but one with defective hearing will receive the 
 results. I would place the audiphone in the hands of 
 each child with any degree of hearing remaining, and 
 have him study his own voice at his seat, while speaking 
 against it. He would have to study aloud, as it is his 
 voice we wish to cultivate. It is more important that 
 the child should hear himself speak than that it should 
 hear others, and when the child comes to recite, its 
 articulation of mispronounced words may be corrected. 
 Very slow progress would be made if it was required to 
 speak aloud only at recitations, and very hard work on 
 the part of the teacher could be avoided by having the 
 child study the sounds it produced at its seat, and while 
 studying its lesson. I would advise that where many 
 are being taught, the class should pass into a quiet recita- 
 tion-roomi. It has been my experience in institutions I 
 have visited that I have been able to teach classes of a 
 dozen children to speak plainly thirty to one hundred 
 words in two or three days, whether they have received 
 previous instruction in articulation or not, and at this rate 
 it would require but a very short time to give them a 
 vocabulary that would be of practical value to them. I 
 have, however, selected those possessing the most hear- 
 ing, and that would be faster than the average could be 
 taught; but all intelligent children, with five per cent, of 
 hearing can be taught as valuable speech as I possess. 
 My articulation may be defective, but I think you have 
 been able to understand what I have said, and, poor as 
 it is, 1 would not part with it for all the possessions any 
 
HEARING THROUGH THE TEETH. 
 
 one of you may have. And here, gentlemen, you arc 
 depriving half of the children in the institutions that you 
 teach of an articulation that might be as valuable to 
 them as mine is to me, or as yours is to you. 
 
 I have known institutions where the teachers them- 
 selves have used this audiphone, and have taught chil- 
 dren who could hear naturally better than themselves, 
 and did not allow them to use it. By what line of rea- 
 soning they can justify this I do not know; or why they 
 should deprive the innocent child of the blessings they 
 appropriate to themselves. And these poor children, 
 ignorant of the value of the slight degree of hearing God 
 has conferred upon them, are sent to the schools for the 
 deaf for instruction, and thousands are being sent forth 
 from these institutions ignorant still of the great value 
 the hearing they have would have been to them had it 
 been utilized in teaching them to speak. Teachers, will 
 you continue to do this.? Will you continue to graduate 
 this large class of hard-of-hearing children as children 
 perfectly deaf.? If you do, you commit a grievous offense 
 and an offense which will not be forgotten or forgiven. 
 You will deprive fifty per cent, of the afflicted children 
 given to your care of valuable speech and an education 
 to articulate sounds. You deprive them ot the enjoy- 
 ment of God’s most valuable gifts, speech and hearing. 
 You in a great measure deprive them of the means of. 
 making a livelihood. The hard-of-hearing, speaking 
 person will succeed well in most callings. The responsi- 
 bility for the present rests with you; in the future this 
 will all be done. Are you prepared to say, “ We will 
 not do it; we will leave it to the future; we will continue 
 in our old methods,” or will you rise equal to the occa- 
 
THE AUDIPHONE. 
 
 f.ion and deserve the blessings of future generations? As 
 lor me, I would rather be the inventor of this little device 
 I hold in my hands, and the author of these few words I 
 have addressed to you, knowing them to be true, and 
 leel the satisfaction I feel in having devoted the past six- 
 teen years of my life to this cause, than to be the in- 
 ventor of any device that merely serves commercial pur- 
 poses. Commerce may be benefited in a thousand ways, 
 whereas an affliction may be alleviated in but few. 
 
 A Vote of Thanks. 
 
 On motion it was 
 
 Resolved, That the thanks of this convention are due 
 *o Mr. R. S. Rhodes for his valuable paper. ^ 
 
FOR THE DEAF 
 
 THE AUDIPHONE 
 
 An Instrument tbat Hnables Deaf Persons to Hear Or- 
 dinary Conversation Readily tlirous:li tbe Hedium 
 of tlie Xeetti, and Many of those Born Deaf and 
 Dumb to Hear and L,earn to Speak. 
 
 INVENTED BY RICKARD S. RHODES, CHICAGO. 
 
 Medal Awarded at tlie World’s Columbian Expo- 
 sition, CMcago, 
 
 The Audiphone is a new instrument made of a peculiar composi- 
 tion, posessing the property of gathering the faintest sounds (some- 
 what similar to a telephone diaphragm), and conveying them to the 
 ftuditory nerve, through the medium of the teeth. The external ear 
 has nothing whatever to do in hearing with this wo 7 iderful instru- 
 ment. 
 
 Thousands are in use by those who would not do without them for 
 any consideration. It has enabled doctors and law’yers to resume 
 practice, teachers to resume teaching, mothers to hear the voices of 
 their children, thousands to hear their minister, attend concerts and 
 theatres, and engage in general conversation. Music is heard per- 
 fectly with it when without it not a note could be distinguished. It is 
 convenient to carry and to use. Ordinary conversation can be heard 
 with ease. In most cases deafness is not detected. 
 
 Full instructions will be sent with each instrument. The Audi- 
 phone is patented throughout the civilized world. 
 
 : : : : 
 
 Conversational, small size, - - • $3 oo 
 
 Conversational, medium size, - - - 3 oo 
 
 Concert size, - - - - - 5 oo 
 
 Trial instruments, good and serviceable, - - - i 50 
 
 The Audiphone will be sent to any address, on receipt of price, by 
 
 RHODES & M°SLUBE PyiLISHING GO., 
 
 for *World., 
 
 02I3:C-A.OO, H-iX-. 
 
PUBLISHED BY 
 
 RHODES & McCLURE PUBLISHING CO., 
 
 ■' ' Chicago. 
 
 All handsomely bound in the best English and American cloths, with full Silver- 
 embossed side and back stamp; uniform in style of binding. Together making 
 a handsome library, or, separately, making handsome center-table volumes. 
 
 PRICE, $1.00 EACH. SENT POST-PAID. 
 
 ABRAHAM LINCOLN’S STORIES AND SPEECHES; in cne 
 volume, complete. New (1897) edition, handsomely illustrated; 
 containing the many witty, pointed and unequaled stories as told 
 by Mr. Lincoln, including Early life stories. Professional life 
 stories. White House and War stories; also presenting the full 
 text of the popular Speeches of Mr. Lincoln on the great ques- 
 tions of the age, including his “First Political Speech,’’ “Rail- 
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 great Inaugurals, with many grand illustrations. An instructive 
 and valuable book; 477 pages. 
 
 MOODY’S ANECDOTES; 210 peges, exclusive of 
 engravings. Containing several hundred interesting 
 stories, told by the great evangelist, D. L. Moody, 
 in h.s wonderful work in Europe and America 
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 full-page engravings from Gustave Dore, making 
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 M OODY’S GOSPEL SERMONS. As delivered by the great Evangel- 
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 and America. Together with a biography of Mr. Moody and his 
 co-laborer, Ira David Sankey. Including, also, a short history of the 
 Great Revival. Each sermon is illustrated with a handsome, full-page 
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 Moody’s services) and “I Am the Way.” A handsome and attractive vol- 
 ume of 443 p ges. 
 
 OODY'S LATEST SERMONS. As delivered by the great Evangel- 
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 four full-page engravings from Gustave Dore. 335 pages. 
 
 M OODY’S CHILD Sd'ORIES. As related by Dwight Lyman Moody 
 in his revival work. Handsomely illustrated with sixteen full-page 
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 handsome volume. Should be in svery family. 237 pages. 
 
Standard Publications, $1 each, bound in Cloth. 
 
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 exclusive of engravings. Sam Jones is pronounced 
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 and yet among the most effective.” His sermons are 
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 S aM JONES’ LATEST SERMONS. The favor with which Sam 
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 MISTAKES OF INGERSOLL; an I his Answers 
 complete; n. wly revised popular (1897) edition; 
 illustrated, 482 pages. Containing the full 
 replies of Prof. Swing, Judge Black, J. Munro 
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 G reat speeches of col. R. G. ingersoll; complete; 
 
 newly revised (1897) edition; 409 pages. Containing the many 
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 WIT. - Contains sketches from Mark Twain, witticisms 
 from F. H. Carruth, Donglas Jerrold, M. Quad, Op e 
 Reid, Mrs. Partington, Eli Perkins, O’Malley, Bill 
 N;'e, Artemus Ward, Abe Lincoln, Burdette, Daniel 
 Webster, Victor Hugo, Brother Gardner, Clinton 
 Scollard, Tom Hood, L. R. Catlin, Josh. Billings, 
 Chauncey Depew and all humorous writers of mod- 
 ern times. Illustrated with 75 full p^ge engravings, 
 1 y H. DeLay, and contains reading matter 407 pages. 
 
 B ENONI and SERAPTA. A Story of the Time of the Great Con- 
 stantine, Founder of the Christian Faith. By Douglas Vernon. A 
 religious novel showing a Parsee’s cons'ancy and faith through 
 many persecutions, trials and difficulties, placed in his way by priests 
 nobles and queens of his time and his final t.iumph over all obstacles. 
 Being an interesting novel, iut nded to show the state of the religious 
 feelings and unscrupulous intrigues of those professing religion at the 
 time of the foundat on of the Christian faith. Illustrated with 33 full- 
 page en^avings. by H DeLay and contains reading matter 389 pages 
 
standard Publications, $1 each, bound in Cloth. 
 
 E vils of the cities; By T. DeWitt Talmage, D. D.; 530 pages. 
 
 The author, in company with the proper detectives, visited many of 
 the most vile and wicked places in New York City and Brooklyn, osten- 
 sibly looking for a thief, but in reality taking notes for a feries of 
 d'scourses published in this volume, which contains a full and graphic 
 defC option cf what he saw and the lessens drawn therefrom. The Doctor 
 has abo exte ded his observations to the ‘‘Summer Resorts,” “Watering 
 Places,” Rj ces, etc., etc., all of which are popularized from his standpoint 
 in this volume. Handsomely illustrated and decidedly interesting. 
 
 ALMAGE IN THE HOLY LAND; 322 pages. The 
 Palestine Serm.cns of T. DeWitt Talmage, delivered during 
 his tour of th ■ Holy Land. Including graphic descriptions 
 of Sacred Places, Vivid Delineations of Gospel Truths, 
 nteresting local reminiscences, etc., etc., by his visit to the 
 many places made sacred by the personal presence of Jesus 
 and the great pens cf Biblical characters and writers. 
 Copiously illustrated. 
 
 IN: A series of popular discourses delivered by T. DeWitt 
 Talmage, D. D., and illustrated with 136 engravings by 
 H. De Lay; 411 pages. 
 
 M cN KILL’S POPULAR SERMONS: 373 pages. Delivered in Lon- 
 con and America by the Rev. John McNeill, one of the ablest and 
 most p( pular of living divines, and known on both continents as “The 
 Scotch Spurgeon ” of Europe, of whom D. L. Moody has said; “ He is 
 the greatest preacher in the world.” A most clear, vivid, earnest and 
 life-like presentation of Gospel Truth; sincerely and decidedly spiritual. 
 A most edifying, instructive and entertaining volume for young and old. 
 
 EDISCN AND HIS INVENTIONS; 278 pages. Containing 
 full illustrated explanations of the new and wonderful Pho- 
 nograph, Telephone, Electric Light, and all his principal 
 inventions, in Edison's own language, generally, including 
 many incidents, anecdotes and interesting particulars connect- 
 ed with the earlier and later life of the world-renowned 
 inventor, tegether with a full Electrical Dictionary, explain- 
 ing all of the new’ electrical terms; making a very entertain- 
 ing and valuable book of the life and works of Edison. 
 Profusely illustrated. 
 
 GEMS OF TRUTH AND BEAUTY. A choice selection 
 of wise, eloquent extracts from Talmage, Beecher, Mcody 
 Spurgeon, Guthrie and Parker, forming a volume that 
 keenly interests. .A good gift and center table book- 
 300 pages. Illustrated.