“I don’t see why people are so down on puns,” said Cowles stoutly. “I’ve heard some mighty good ones.”
“As far as I am concerned,” said Mr. Collins, “I think a good pun is just as funny as any other form of humor. Sometimes I conclude that persons who frown on punning—and I’m not referring to Mr. Gaddis—are incapable of doing it. The pun has its place. Dr. Holmes, if you recollect, remarks that the pun can claim the parentage of Homer. Doubtless you can all recall instances when that worthy gentleman has descended—or arisen, all according to the point of view—to paronomasia.”
“I beg pardon, sir?” exclaimed Ned Tooker.
Mr. Collins laughed. “Paronomasia, Tooker; that’s the scientific term for it.”
“Sounds like a disease,” observed Sanford.
“I’ve known cases where it amounted to that,” replied Mr. Collins. “And speaking of Oliver Wendell Holmes, the good doctor was very fond of punning, and some he perpetrated are pretty bad. In one place among his verses you’ll find the following:
“‘Hard is the job to launch the dangerous pun,
A pun-job dangerous as the Indian one.’
That seems to show a good deal of effort, and I take it that a pun should be launched on the spur of the moment. A studied pun is heavy, and a heavy joke is as bad as a heavy biscuit.”
“I remember reading somewhere once,” said Cowles, “about a fellow who was challenged to find a pun for Mephistopheles. He replied that it was a hard thing for a man to do, but that he ‘May if he’s tough, Elise.’”
“Wow!” exclaimed Tooker. “Did they slay him?”