They have a new brand of whiskey down in Kentucky known as “The Horn of Plenty,” because it will corn-you-copiously.
“In the Blue Grass section of Kentucky was I born, where all the corn is full of kernels—and all the colonels full of corn.”
AN AWFUL LOT OF PRACTICE
Chauncey Depew spoke one evening during a political campaign at a town in the interior of New York State, which it is not necessary to name. The next morning the chairman of the local committee took him in his carriage for a ride about the place. They had reached the suburbs and were admiring a bit of scenery when a man wearing a blue shirt and carrying a long whip on his shoulder approached from where he had been piloting an ox-team along the middle of the street and said:
“You’re the man that made the rattlin’ speech up at the hall last night, I guess?”
Mr. Depew modestly admitted that he had indulged in some talk at the time and place specified.
“Didn’t you have what you said writ out?” went on the man.
“No,” replied the orator.