HE OBEYED
A certain woman demands instant and unquestioning obedience from her children. One afternoon a storm came up and she sent her little son John to close the trap leading to the flat roof of the house.
"But, mother," began John.
"John, I told you to shut the trap."
"Yes, but, mother—"
"John, shut that trap!"
"All right, mother, if you say so—but—"
"John!"
Whereupon John slowly climbed the stairs and shut the trap. Two hours later the family gathered for dinner, but Aunt Mary, who was staying with the mother, did not appear. The mother, quite anxious, exclaimed, "Where can Aunt Mary be?"
"I know," John answered triumphantly, "she is on the roof."
FAIR WARNING
Andrew Carnegie said:
"I was traveling Londonward on an English railway last year, and had chosen a seat in a non-smoking carriage. At a wayside station a man boarded the train, sat down in my compartment, and lighted a vile clay pipe.
"This is not a smoking carriage," said I.
"'All right, Governor,' said the man. 'I'll just finish this pipe here.'
"He finished it, then refilled it.
"'See here,' I said, 'I told you this was not a smoking carriage. If you persist with that pipe I shall report you at the next station to the guard.' I handed him my card. He looked at it, pocketed it, but lighted his pipe nevertheless. At the next station, however, he changed to another compartment.
"Calling the guard, I told him what had occurred, and demanded that the smoker's name and address be taken.
"'Yes, sair,' said the guard, and hurried away. In a little while he returned. He seemed rather awed and, bending over me, said apologetically:
"'Do you know, sir, if I were you I would not prosecute that gent. He has just given me his card. Here it is. He is Mr. Andrew Carnegie.'"
PREPAREDNESS
Scotchmen are proverbial for their caution.
Mr. MacTavish attended a christening where the hospitality of the host knew no bounds except the several capacities of the guests. In the midst of the celebration Mr. MacTavish rose up and made rounds of the company, bidding each a profound farewell.
"But, Sandy, man," objected the host, "ye're not goin' yet, with the evenin' just started?"
"Nay," said the prudent MacTavish. "I'm no' goin' yet. But I'm tellin' ye good-night while I know ye all."
FULL SPEED AHEAD
He was the slowest boy on earth, and had been sacked at three places in two weeks, so his parents had apprenticed him to a naturalist. But even he found him slow. It took him two hours to give the canaries their seed, three to stick a pin through a dead butterfly, and four to pick a convolvulus. The only point about him was that he was willing.
"And what," he asked, having spent a whole afternoon changing the goldfishes' water, "shall I do now, sir?"
The naturalist ran his fingers through his locks.
"Well, Robert," he replied at length, "I think you might now take the tortoise out for a run."
PLAYING SAFE
A lady recently selecting a hat at a milliner's asked, cautiously:
"Is there anything about these feathers that might bring me into trouble with the Bird Protection Society?"
"Oh, no, madam," said the milliner.
"But did they not belong to some bird?" persisted the lady.
"Well, madam," returned the milliner, pleasantly, "these feathers are the feathers of a howl; and the howl, you know, madam, seein' as 'ow fond he is of mice, is more of a cat than a bird."
WORDS FAILED HER
The budding authoress had purchased a typewriter, and one morning the agent called and asked:
"How do you like your new typewriter, madam?"
"It's wonderful!" was the enthusiastic reply. "I wonder how I ever done my writing without it."
"Would you mind," asked the agent, "giving me a little testimonial to that effect?"
"Certainly not," she responded. "I'll do it gladly."
Seating herself at the machine, she pounded out the following:
Aafteb Using thee Automatid Backactiom atype write, er for thre emonth %an d Over. I unhesittattingly pronoun ce it tobe al ad more than th e Manufacturss claim! for it. Durinb the tim e been in myy possessio n $i thre month it had more th an paid paid for itse*f in thee saVing off tim e anD laborr?
ONE WAY OUT
One of the congregation of a church not far from Boston approached her pastor with the complaint that she was greatly disturbed by the unmelodious singing of one of her neighbors.
"It's positively unbearable!" she said. "That man in the pew in front of us spoils the service for me. His voice is harsh and he has no idea of a tune. Can't you ask him to change his pew?"
The good pastor was sorely perplexed. After a few moments' reflection, he said, "Well, I naturally would feel a little delicacy on that score, especially as I should have to tell him why I asked it. But I'll tell you what I might do." Here his face became illuminated by a happy thought. "I might ask him to join the choir."
HOW WAR BEGAN
There have been a great many explanations for war, but the following appears to have its special merits:
The world was supplied with an original producer; namely, Woman.
Woman produced babies.
The babies grew up and produced tradespeople.
The tradespeople produced goods with which to supply the woman.
The goods, coming into competition with each other, owing to the different parts of the world wherein they were manufactured, produced trouble.
The trouble produced international jealousies.
The international jealousies produced war.
Then the war proceeded to destroy the women and babies, because it was through woman in the beginning that war became possible.
MATRIMONIAL ENDURANCE
A happily married woman, who had enjoyed thirty-three years of wedlock, and who was the grandmother of four beautiful little children, had an amusing old colored woman for a cook.
One day when a box of especially beautiful flowers was left for the mistress the cook happened to be present, and she said: "Yo' husband send you all the pretty flowers you gits, Missy?"
"Certainly, my husband, mammy," proudly answered the lady.
"Glory!" exclaimed the cook, "he suttenly am holdin' out well."
MISSING IT
The folks in the southern part of Arkansas are not noted for their speed.
A man and his wife were sitting on their porch when a funeral procession passed the house. The man was comfortably seated in a chair that was tilted back against the house, and was whittling a piece of wood. As the procession passed, he said:
"I reckon ol' man Williams has got about the biggest funeral that's ever been held around hyer, Caroline."
"A purty good-sized one, is it, Bud?" queried the wife, making no effort to move.
"Certainly is!" Bud answered.
"I surely would like to see it," said the woman. "What a pity I ain't facin' that way!"