Such humor, springing, as it does, from the people, much of it being caught at first hands from those who invented it to be transcribed for the newspaper in which it first appeared and now to be preserved in this volume, illustrates many important truths in our American character. Let that not be forgotten! "Show me a nation's humor and I will show you its civilization," is a sentiment worthy to become a proverb. There is hope for the man or the race of men which is gifted with the sense of humor if the mind and lips remain clean and reverent.
The Chinese can read this book as well as our occidentals. It can be perused backward or forward and will need no index or table of contents. It can be taken all at once if time and taste call for it, or it may be confidently opened by the skipper and skimmer of books who travels hither and thither and assails his literature only at vulnerable points. It may perhaps be taken up a second time, when, reader, if some of these stories seem to be old friends, you must be certain not to chide and revile this little volume, but compliment yourself upon owning a very retentive mind.
BEATEN AT HIS OWN GAME
The champion liar of the town was outdoing himself on his pet topic, the Civil War. "Talk of mud," he was saying, "our campaign in the Wilderness was the worst. It rained for days without letting up. When it did stop we started off with our artillery. Soon we came to a regular water hole, but we drove straight along, and do you know that first team went right out of sight."
A newcomer then took the floor. "I've seen some mud, too," he said. "When I was a boy, one day after a terribly wet spring, I saw a hat out in the road, right in a big puddle, so I waded out to get it. Maybe now you won't believe me, but there was a man under that hat. Says I, 'Why, hello! can't I help you out?' 'Oh, no,' says he, 'guess I can get along. I'm a-horse back.'"
THE ABSENT BOY'S FAULT
A certain Sunday-school teacher had a regular set of questions that she asked every Sunday. Beginning with the first boy she would ask, "Who made you?" to which he would reply, "The Lord." Then she would regularly ask the second boy, "Who was the first man?" and he would reply, "Adam."
One Sunday the first boy was away, and of course the second boy moved into his place. As usual, the teacher began by asking, "Who made you?"
The boy replied, "Adam."
"No, that is not right," said the teacher. "The Lord made you."