“The students actually roared with laughter, but Abernethy retained his usual gravity throughout the whole of the ludicrous scene.”
Madam Rothschild, mother of the mighty capitalists, attained the great age of ninety-eight. Her wits, which were of no common order, were preserved to the end. During her last illness, when surrounded by her family and some friends, she turned to her physician, and said, in a suppliant tone,—
“My dear doctor, I pray you try to do something for me.”
“Madam, what can I do? I cannot make you young again.”
“No, doctor; nor do I want to be young again. But I want to continue to grow old.”
Large Feet.
Dr. Wood was a man of large “understanding.” One day at a presidential reception he was standing in a large crowd, when he felt two feet pressing on his patent leathers. Looking down, he discovered that the said feet belonged to a female. Wood was a bachelor, and at first the sensation was delightful. It made inexpressibly delicious thrills run all up and down his body. But as the impression was all on the lady’s side, the above sensations became gradually superseded by those not quite so delightful, and finally the pressure became very uncomfortable. Mustering courage, he said, very gently,—
“Madam, if you please, you are standing on my feet—”
“Your feet, sir, did you say?” For the crowd was so dense that she could not possibly see to the ground.
“Yes, madam, on my feet—this last half hour,” very politely.