At a Socialist meeting a young orator inveighed furiously against the spread of education, saying that it would be far better for society if fewer people knew how to read and write.
“Why, you are an obscurantist!” exclaimed a progressist member of the audience.
“Oh, no; I am merely a post-office clerk.”—Il Cittadino.
Alberto Gelsomini has joined an amateur dramatic society. On the night of his first appearance in public he had only a small part assigned to him. All he had to say was—
“Signore, a gentleman of about fifty years has been some time in the anteroom; shall I show him in?”
Instead of which Gelsomini blurted out, excitedly—
“Signore, a gentleman has been waiting fifty years in the anteroom; shall I show him in?”—Don Chisciotte.
Customer. “Do you happen to have any pianoforte pieces?”
New Apprentice. “No, signore; we only sell whole pianos.”—Il Cittadino.
A poor man in rags asked alms in a public thoroughfare. A gentleman gave him two soldi, and said—