FROM THE LIPS OF ANANIAS.
A Collection of Tales for Which Belief is Respectfully Solicited, But Which Sophisticated
Readers are Likely to Cite as Evidence of the Fact That Truth Has Lost
Much of Her Youthful Charm and Many Admirers.
SPEAKING OF FLOODS.
An old soldier, whose cherished name was that of two of our presidents, died here in Washington recently, and his passing reminds me of a story I once heard him tell. Veteran of '61 as he was, he had listened patiently to the very long story a youthful veteran of the Spanish War told. The account of hardships left him unmoved.
"Just after the Johnstown flood, my boy," said he, "there was a man in the next world who went about telling everybody how that Johnstown affair had sent him where he was.
"His listeners hung on his words—all of them, that is, except a quiet looking little man who seemed so little impressed that every time the Johnstown man got through he merely looked bored and said, 'Oh, shucks!'
"The Johnstown man got tired of it after a while. It got on his nerves to have anybody act as if what happened at Johnstown wasn't of any importance. No matter how he told his story, the quiet looking little man merely said, 'Oh, shucks.'
"At last the Johnstown man spoke to a fellow who had been there a long time about it.
"'Say,' said he, 'who is that little man who keeps saying "shucks?"'