MARRIAGE
"Hubby, if I were to die would you marry again?"
"That question is hardly fair, my dear."
"Why not?"
"If I were to say yes you wouldn't like it, and to say never again wouldn't sound nice."
THE PHRENOLOGIST—"Yes, sir, by feeling the bumps on your head I can tell exactly what sort of man you are."
MR. DOOLAN—"Oi belave it will give ye more ov an oidea wot sort ov a woman me woife is."—Jack Canuck.
Private Nelson got his leave, and made what he conceived to be the best use of his holiday by getting married.
On the journey back at the station he gave the gateman his marriage certificate in mistake for his return railway ticket.
The official studied it carefully, and then said:
"Yes, my boy, you've got a ticket for a long journey, but not on this road."
NORTH—"I see they're reviving the talk about trial marriages. Do you believe in them?"
WEST—"Well, mine is quite a trial, but I can't say I believe in it especially."
A young fellow took his elderly father to a football match.
"Father," he said as they took their seats, "you'll see more excitement for your five dollars than you ever saw before."
"Oh, I don't know," grunted the old man; "five dollars was all I paid for my marriage license."
George Washington Jones, colored, was trying to enlist in Uncle Sam's army, and the following conversation ensued with the recruiting officer:
"Name?"
"George Washington Jones, sah."
"Age?"
"I'se twenty-seven years old, sah."
"Married?"
"No, sah. Dat scar on mah haid is whar a mule done kicked me."
If marriage is a lottery,
As saw smiths often say,
The lucky gambler is, of course,
The one who doesn't play.
—Tennyson J. Daft.
At the wedding reception the young man remarked: "Wasn't it annoying the way that baby cried during the whole ceremony?"
"It was simply dreadful," replied the prim little maid of honor; "and when I get married I'm going to have engraved right in the corner of the invitations: 'No babies expected.'"
"The man who gives in when he is wrong," said the street orator, "is a wise man; but he who gives in when he is right is—"
"Married!" said a meek voice in the crowd.
Mrs. Killifer desired that the picture be hung to the right of the door; Mr. Killifer wanted it hung to the left. For once the husband proved to be the more insistent of the two, and Henry, the colored man, was summoned to hang the picture according to Mr. Killifer's order.
Henry drove in a nail on the left. This done, he also drove one in the wall on the right.
"Why are you driving that second nail?" asked Mr. Killifer.
"Why, boss, dat's to save me de trouble of bringin' de ladder tomorrow when you come round to de missus's way of thinkin'," said Henry.
Mr. Brown met Mr. Jones on the street.
"Any news, Brown?" asked Jones.
"Nothing special. I've just been reading the Sunday paper. And I find one peculiar thing in it that may be news to you."
"What is it?"
"The Sunday paper says that women in ancient Egypt used to act as they pleased, live as they pleased, and dress as they pleased, without regard to what the men thought. Lucky we don't live in those times, what?"
"Mr. Brown, are you married?"
"What has that got to do with it? As a matter of fact, I'm not."
"I thought not."
"She calls her dog and her husband by the same pet name. It must cause frequent confusion."
"Not at all. She always speaks gently to the dog."
"Pa, a man's wife is his better half, isn't she?"
"We are told so, my son."
"Then if a man marries twice there isn't anything left of him, is there?"
How the Row Started
MR. BROWN—"I had a queer dream last night, my dear. I thought I saw another man running off with you."
MRS. BROWN—"And what did you say to him?"
MR. BROWN—"I asked him what he was running for."
Uncle Josh was comfortably lighting his pipe in the living-room one evening when Aunt Maria glanced up from her knitting.
"John," she remarked, "do you know that next Sunday will be the twenty-fifth anniversary of our wedding?"
"You don't say so, Maria!" responded Uncle Josh, pulling vigorously on his corncob pipe. "What about it?"
"Nothing," answered Aunt Maria, "only I thought maybe we ought to kill them two Rhode Island Red chickens."
"But, Maria," demanded Uncle Josh, "how can you blame them two Rhode Island Reds for what happened twenty-five years ago?"
GARDENER—"I am going to leave, sir. I can't stand the Missus!"
EMPLOYER—"Too strict, is she?"
GARDENER—"Yes, sir. She keeps forgetting that I can leave any time, and bosses me about just as if I was you!"
"Get away from here or I'll call my husband," threatened the hard-faced woman who had just refused the tramp some food.
"Oh, no, you won't," replied the tramp, "because he ain't home."
"How do you know?" asked the woman.
"Because," answered the man as he sidled toward the gate, "a man who marries a woman like you is only home at meal times."
FRIENDLY CONSTABLE—"Come, come, sir, pull yourself together; your wife's calling you."
CONVIVIAL GENT—"Wha' she call-calling me; Billy or William?"
CONSTABLE—"William, sir."
CONVIVIAL GENT—"Then I'm not going home."
HUSBAND (angrily)—"What! no supper ready? This is the limit! I'm going to a restaurant."
WIFE—"Wait just five minutes."
HUSBAND—"Will it be ready then?"
WIFE—"No, but then I'll go with you."
"Why have I never married?" the old bachelor said in reply to a leading question. "Well, once upon a time, in a crowd, I trod on a lady's gown. She turned furiously, beginning, 'You clumsy brute!' Then she smiled sweetly and said, 'Oh, I beg pardon! I thought you were my husband! No; it really doesn't matter in the least.'
"And when I came to think it over, I decided that maybe I'd just as well let marriage alone."
"I hear the sea captain is in hard luck. He married a girl and she ran away from him."
"Yes; he took her for a mate, but she was a skipper."
FORTUNE-TELLER—"You wish to know about your future husband?"
CUSTOMER—"No; I wish to know about the past of my present husband for future use."
"Do you act toward your wife as you did before you married her?"
"Exactly. I remember just how I used to act when I first fell in love with her. I used to lean over the fence in front of her house and gaze at her shadow on the curtain, afraid to go in. And I act just the same way now when I get home late."
"Marriage is a lottery."
"Not exactly," commented Miss Cayenne. "When you lose in a lottery it's an easy matter to tear up the ticket and forget it."
Lightning knocked over three men who were sitting on boxes in front of Sawyer's store yesterday. One of them was knocked senseless; the other two exclaimed, "Leggo! I'm comin' right home."
TEACHER—"In what part of the Bible is it taught that a man should have only one wife?"
LITTLE BOY—"I guess it's the part that says that no man can serve more than one master."
The trouble with most marriages is that a man always makes the mistake of marrying the woman who carries him off his feet—instead of trying to find one who will keep him on them.
CONDUCTOR (to passenger of Pullman)—"Excuse me, sir. Is this lady your wife?"
PASSENGER—"I don't know. It depends upon what State we are passing through."—Life.
"I'm thinking of getting married, pa. What's it like?"
"You had a job as janitor once, didn't you?"
"Yes."
"And you had a position as watchman once, didn't you?"
"And you worked a while as a caretaker, didn't you?"
"Yes."
"Well, it's a combination of all three jobs—and then some."
The archbishop had preached a fine sermon on married life and its beauties. Two old Irishwomen were heard coming out of church commenting on the address.
"'Tis a fine sermon his Riverence would be after giving us," said one to the other.
"It is, indade," was the quick reply, "and I wish I knew as little about the matter as he does."—Life.
A young Swede appeared at the county judge's office and asked for a license.
"What kind of a license?" asked the judge. "A hunting license?"
"No," was the answer. "Aye tank aye bane hunting long enough. Aye want marriage license."
The young man sidled into the jeweler's shop with a furtive air. He handed the jeweler a ring with the stammered statement that he wished it marked "with some names."
"What names do you wish?" inquired the jeweler in a sympathetic tone.
"From Henry to Clara," the young man blushingly whispered.
The jeweler looked from the ring to the young man, and said in a fatherly manner: "Take my advice, young man, and have it engraved simply, 'From Henry.'"
JUDGE—"The police say that you and your wife had some words."
PRISONER—"I had some, but didn't get a chance to use them."—Puck.
At the end of three weeks of married life, a Southern darky returned to the minister who had performed the ceremony and asked for a divorce. After explaining that he could not grant divorces, the minister tried to dissuade his visitor from carrying out his intention of getting one saying:
"You must remember, Sam, that you promised to take Liza for better or for worse."
"Yassir, I knows dat, boss," rejoined the darky; "but—but she's wuss dan I took her for."
In one of the big base hospitals of the Army not long ago a new librarian was set to work by the American Library Association. She was a very charming young woman, and very anxious to please all of her "customers," tho some of them didn't even wish to look at a book. In her rounds she approached one of the patients and he declined to be interested in her wares. At the next cot she stopped and offered its occupant a book.
"What's it about?" the patient asked.
"Oh, this is 'Bambi,'" said the librarian. "It's about a girl who married a man without his having anything to say about it."
"Hold on there," shouted the man who had declined all books. He raised himself up on his elbow and reached out his hand. "Give me that book. It's my autobiography."
Miss SNOWFLAKE—"What did Jim Jackson git married for?"
Miss WASHTUBB—"Lawd only knows;—he keeps right on workin'!"
The beautiful young woman interviewed a fortune-teller on the usual subjects.
"Lady," said the clairvoyant, "you will visit foreign lands, and the courts of kings and queens. You will conquer all rivals and marry the man of your choice. He will be tall and dark and aristocratic looking."
"And young?" interrupted the lady.
"Yes, and very rich."
The beautiful lady grasped the fortune teller's hands and pressed them hard.
"Thank you," she said. "Now tell me one thing more. How shall I get rid of my present husband?"
Miss Milly was rather a talkative young lady. Her bosom friend, having missed her for some time, called to find out the reason.
"No, mum, Miss Milly is not in," the maid informed her.
"She has gone to the class."
"Why, what class?" inquired the caller in surprize.
"Well, mum, you know Miss Milly is getting married soon, so she's taking a course of lessons in domestic silence."
Mrs. Peavish says that if it were to do over again, no man need ever ask for her hand until he had shown his.
In London they tell of a certain distinguished statesman who is an optimist on all points save marriage.
One afternoon this statesman was proceeding along a country road when he saw a cottager eating his supper alone in the road before his dwelling.
"Why, Henry," asked the statesman, "why are you eating out here alone?"
"Well, sir, er—" the man stammered, "the—er—chimney smokes."
"That's too bad," said the statesman, his philanthropic sentiments at once being aroused. "I'll have it fixed for you. Let's have a look at it."
And before the cottager could stay him the statesman proceeded to enter the cottage. As soon as he had opened the door a broomstick fell upon his shoulders and a woman's voice shrieked:
"Back here again, are you, you old rascal! Clear out with you, or I'll—"
The statesman retired precipitately. The cottager sat in the road shaking his head in sorrow and embarrassment. The statesman bent over him, and laid his hand in kindly fashion on his arm.
"Never mind, Henry," said he, consolingly, "my chimney smokes sometimes, too."—Harper's.
NODD—"Are you sure your wife knows I'm going home to dinner with you?"
TODD—"Knows! Well, rather! Why, my dear fellow, I argued with her about it this morning for nearly half an hour."—Life.
A recent experience of a Virginia clergyman throws light on the old English law requiring that marriages should be celebrated before noon. A colored couple appeared before him, asking to be married, the man in a considerably muddled state. The minister said to the woman, "I won't perform this ceremony."
"Why is dat, boss?" she queried. "Ain't de license all right? An' we is of age."
"Yes, but the man is drunk. Take him away and come back again." Several days later the couple again presented themselves, the man once more obviously intoxicated. "See here, I told you I wouldn't marry you when this man was drunk," the minister said testily. "Don't you come back here till he's sober."
"Well, you see, suh," the woman replied apologetically, "de trufe is dat he won't come less'n he's lit up."
"Well," cried Mrs. Henpeck, "our son is engaged to be married. We will write to the dear lad and congratulate him."
Mr. Henpeck agreed (he dare not do otherwise), and his wife picked up the pen.
"My darling boy," read the son; "what glorious news! Your father and I rejoice in your happiness. It has long been our greatest wish that you should marry some good woman. A good woman is Heaven's most precious gift to man. She brings out all the best in him and helps him to suppress all that is evil."
Then there was a postscript in a different handwriting:
"Your mother has gone for a stamp. Keep single, you young noodle."—Judge.
"Women always have and always will keep men guessing," declares the Wathena (Kan.) Times. "A Wathena merchant employed a homely girl because he thought he could keep her. Within a few months a young man married her for the same reason."
A prominent New York débutante recently ordered "four seats on the aisle" at the theater. When her party arrived at the performance, they were surprised to find themselves arranged in a column instead of a row. Nothing daunted, the débutante turned to a bored, middle-aged man next to her. Surely he would not mind changing with her friend in front.
"I beg your pardon," she said politely.
No reply. He must be deaf.
"I beg your pardon," she repeated louder.
Still no reply.
"I beg your pardon," she said, bumping his elbow.
He took out a pencil and wrote on his program:
"That's my wife on the other side of me. Safety first."
Man puts up with marriage in order to get a certain girl—a girl puts up with a certain man in order to get married.
In the old days man used to marry woman for a dot—now he marries her for a period.
Marriage may be likened to a subscription to a favorite magazine—it is something that should be renewed each year if it is not to expire.
A married woman said to her husband: "You have never taken me to the cemetery."
"No, dear," replied he; "that is a pleasure I have yet in anticipation."
A man of perhaps 55, wearing a rough peajacket, showing glimpses of a soiled pink silk shirt, with a rubber collar, approached and in confiding tones asked for a book for a "widow past 50 who is thinking of getting married." The assistant proceeded to inquire as to what kind of a story he thought she might like. "Oh," he said, "what I want is a story that will kind o' cheer her up."
See also Domestic finance; Husbands; Leap year.