Chapter XVIII

_Western and Eastern Wit.--Two Anecdotes in the way of
Illustration._

I think the two following anecdotes illustrate well the preposterousness of Western wit and the delicacy of the Eastern article.

To some Americans, who may read me, these two stories may be "chestnuts." To such I apologise.

* * * * *

A drunkard's relatives thought to frighten him into better ways. During a fit of intoxication he was laid in a coffin, and a friend remained near at hand, waiting until the drunken stupor should pass off.

By-and-bye, the occupant of the coffin awakes, sits up, and, rubbing his eyes,

"Where am I?" he inquires.

"You are dead," replies his friend, in a sepulchral kind of voice.

"Dear me! How long have I been dead?"

"Three days."

"And are you dead too?"

"Yes."

"And how long have you been dead?"

"Three weeks."

"Dear me! ... then you have been dead longer than I have ... tell me where I can get a drink."

* * * * *

Now a Bostonian anecdote.

Philadelphia, whether justly or not, has the reputation of being very dead-and-alive, and many are the jokes on its dullness. This is one, which illustrates well the keenness and delicacy of Eastern wit.

A Bostonian was doing the honours of his native city to a friend from Philadelphia. Having shown him all the points of interest in the place, he asked if he did not think Boston a fine city.

"Yes, it is very nice," said the Pennsylvania man; "but I don't think it is so well _laid out_ as Philadelphia."

"No," rejoined the Bostonian, "but it will be, when it is as dead as Philadelphia."