“That,” gravely explained the matron, “is the ‘Maiden’s Prayer.’”
A messenger came tearing up to the White House in ’63, and hurriedly gaining admission to Mr. Lincoln, informed him in great excitement that a large wagon train had been surprised a short way across the Potomac and a brigadier-general taken prisoner.
“Did they capture the train?” inquired Old Abe.
“No, sir, the regiment came up and saved it,” answered the messenger, “but the general, Mr. President, is a prisoner.”
“Oh, never mind that,” said Lincoln. “I can make a dozen generals in a day, but mules cost $300 apiece.”
Two men were riding together one day through Paris. One was exceedingly bright and clever, while the other was correspondingly dull. As is usually the case, the latter monopolized the conversation. The talk of the dullard had become almost unendurable, when his companion saw a man on the street far ahead yawning.
“Look,” he exclaimed, “we are overheard!”