The Magistrate—“You seem to have committed a very grave assault on the defendant just because he differed from you in an argument.”
The Defendant—“There was no help for it, your worship. The man is a perfect idiot.”
The Magistrate—“Well, you must pay a fine of 50 francs and costs, and in future you should try and understand that idiots are human beings, the same as you and I.”
Sentimental Young Lady—“Ah Professor! what would this old oak say if it could talk?”
Professor—“It would say, ‘I am an elm.’”
“You needn’t begin jollying me,” said the gruff man to the man who had land to sell. “I’m not a man that can be affected by flattery. When I—”
“That’s just what I said to my boss,” interrupted the agent. “I told him, when he suggested your name to me, that it was a relief to call on a man who did not expect to be praised and flattered to his face all the time. I tell you, Mr. Grump, this city has mighty few men such as you. Nine men out of ten are simply dying to have some one tell them how great they are, but you are above such weakness. Any one can see that at a glance. I’m glad of it. It’s helpful to me to meet a man who rises superior to the petty tactics of the average solicitor. It’s a real and lasting benefit, and an instructive experience.”