Chapter C: A. M

The man who is given to sober reflection seldom gets into a tight place.

--_Boston Courier._

The owner first breaks the race-horse; then the race-horse proceeds to break the owner.

--_Washington Capital._

Dr. Brown-Sequard's new elixir of life is made from dogs, probably some infusion of bark.

--_Toronto Globe._

A Mistake at Table.

"Will you pass me the butter, please?" asked a stranger of a snob at a restaurant table.

"That's the waiter over there, sir," was the supercilious reply.

"I beg your pardon," remarked the stranger. "I did make a mistake."

"You're only adding insult, sir," broke in the snob; "nothing could induce me to believe that you mistook me for a waiter!"

"Certainly not," returned the stranger. "I mistook you for a gentleman."

--_Detroit Free Press._

Answering the Question.

Hotel Clerk--Is there anything that I can do for you?

Seedy Man--Yes, sir, you can loan me five dollars.

"But I'm not going to do it."

"No! I didn't think you would. I merely wanted to answer your question."

--_Merchant Traveler._

How Appearances Deceive.

A portly citizen left a Woodward avenue car at High street between showers yesterday, but was hardly on the sidewalk before he began yelling and beckoning at the car.

"It's agin orders to stop except at crossings," observed a passenger on the rear platform, as the conductor reached up to the bell-rope.

"Yes, but he has probably forgotten something."

"Well, let him get it when the car comes down. I have no patience with forgetful men."

"I guess I'll stop, anyhow."

"It's a shame to do it."

The car was stopped and the man came running and puffing to call out:

"Left my five dollar silk umbrella in the car."

"Yes, and here it is. I was keeping it for you!" replied the individual who had opposed a stop.

"Thanks. You are an honest man. If there were more men like you this would be a better world to live in. Here--have a cigar."

--_Detroit Free Press._

One Idea of It.

Farmer Railfence--Just think, Maria! Squire Hawkins has built himself a thirty-thousand-dollar house, and I'll be blamed if he's got any decent glass in the whole of it.

Maria--What's he got, Ephraim?

Farmer Railfence--Paper says stained glass from cellar to garret. Nice glass, Maria, wouldn't have cost but little more than a lot of worthless stained stuff.

--_Rochester Budget._

ANCIENT MARINER--Yes, mister, it was just down there the _Mary Ann_ wrecked.

DOODLE--Aw' me boy; sit down and tell me about it.

A Truthful Statement.

Yank Yahoo (to jeweler from whom he has just purchased a rolled plate engagement ring)--Naow, Mr. Jewelryman, what had I orter say when I put this 'ere ring on Mandy's finger? Dew I say "I ring yer," "I rang yer," or "I rung yer?"

Jeweler (repressing a smile)--You should say "I wrong you."

--_Jeweler's Weekly._

A Controlling Feature.

Brown--The facial features plainly indicate character and disposition. In selecting your wife were you governed by her chin?

Jones--No, but I have been ever since we married.

--_Omaha World._

A Jersey Idyl.

Night after night a witching sprite,
Outside among the roses,
Sings lullabies; but to my eyes
Her form she ne'er discloses.
She hides away the livelong day,
And keeps herself secluded;
To reach her side in vain I've tried;
My efforts she's eluded.

She seemed so coy; but to my joy,
At last, by chance, I met her.
The fair unknown is now my own,
And soon I'll not forget her.
Last evening she encouraged me--
My triumph is complete, oh;
I own 'twas rash--I made a mash
Of pretty, young Miss Quito.

--_Wasp._

A Point Usually Overlooked.

The youthful heir to a Walnut Hills ancestral establishment is of an inquiring turn of mind and directs his attention especially to the elucidation of religious problems. Last week he heard a Sunday school address on "The Prodigal Son." Just what the small boy thought of the address his father was curious to learn, and so he said to him that night at supper: "My son, tell me which of the characters in the parable of the prodigal son you sympathized with?" "Well, papa," replied the cherub with perfect nonchalance, "I think I'd feel disposed to sympathize most with the calf."

--_Cincinnati Commercial Gazette._

Still Alive.

He--Then this is your final answer, Miss Jones?

She--It is.

"You won't have me?"

"I am sorry, but I must decline."

"Then I will do something desperate."

"What will you do?"

"I will make away with myself."

"Oh! don't."

"I will. I'm determined to do it."

"Well, if you are determined, give a proof that you truly love me by insuring your life in my favor for $20,000 or so before you commit the desperate deed. I will get money from papa to pay the premium."

He left indignantly and at last accounts was still alive.

--_Sunday Mercury._

Devoted Admirers, Both.

He (of Boston)--I am so fond of Bacon! Aren't you?

She (of New Orleans)--Oh, yes; I don't think I could ever get tired of bacon, especially with eggs!

--_Lowell Citizen._

A New Definition of a Bobtail Flush.

Mr. Gunsaulus was telling a group of the bibliomaniacs yesterday that there was nothing so beautiful in a house as a bevy of bright children. "I have a very lovely family," said he. "I hold, as the sinful world would say, a bobtail flush."

"What's that?" asked Hon. Charles B. Farwell, the well-known collector of Bibles and psalm books.

"We were talking about children," exclaimed Mr. Gunsaulus, "and I was saying that in our family we had a bobtail flush--four girls and a boy."

"No," said Mr. Farwell, smiling sadly; "it is evident that you have had no experience in the ways of the world, otherwise you would not make so erroneous an application of terms. You do not hold a bobtail flush; you hold four of a kind--four queens and a jack--a powerful good hand, sir, and I should advise you to stand pat."

--_Chicago News._

She Wasn't Posted.

Grocer (who has lately joined the militia, practising in his shop)--Right, left, right, left. Four paces to the rear; march! (Falls down trapdoor into the cellar.)

Grocer's wife (anxiously)--Oh, Jim, are you hurt?

Grocer (savagely, but with dignity)--Go away, woman; what do you know about war?

--_Liverpool Post._

Very Necessary.

Minister (to Johnny, who is digging worms for bait)--Johnny, don't you know that it is wrong for you to do any work except work of necessity on the Sabbath?

Johnny--Necessity? Ain't this necessity? How's a feller to do any fishin' if he don't have bait?

--_Lawrence American._

A Righteous Judge.

Judge--You say the prisoner threw you out of the door. Had you provoked him?

Plaintiff--Not at all. He advertised an unusually fine bargain sale of laces, and I went in and asked him for the lowest figure on a pair of shoe laces.

Judge--Prisoner is discharged. Mr. Clerk, swear out a warrant against plaintiff and have him arrested for criminal assault.

--_Harper's Bazar._

A Family Peculiarity.

One of the officers of the Nypano, who is a great talker, received a rebuke from his little three-year-old girl on Memorial Day that was worse than he ever received from his older friends. He stayed at home that day to amuse his little girl who inherited the "gift of gab." She nearly wore him out asking questions until finally he said, "Amy, Amy, Amy. Do keep still; it's nothing but talk, talk, talk all the time." The little one didn't seem to care a bit, for she looked up innocently and said, "Talk, talk, talk. Jess 'ike papa."

--_Cleveland Plain Dealer._

Taking One Too Literally.

Old Friend--Well, Browne! what are you sending to the exhibition this year?

Our Artist (who really thinks he's done a good thing at last and longs for a little praise)--Oh--same old rot, as you see!

Old Friend--Ah--well--anyhow it brings grist to the mill, I suppose.

--_Punch._

LUSH--Gosh--hic--12 o'clock. Guess'll g'ome.

YOUNG AMERICA (in the background)--Say, boss, drop in a nickel and weigh your load.

--_Judge._

Had No Regrets.

"Johnnie, my boy, wouldn't you have liked to have been George Washington?"

"Naw."

"No? And why?"

"He never seed a baseball game in his life."

--_Nebraska State Journal._

About to Strike Dead Luck.

A small manufacturer, who had engaged in many local speculations, which had always turned out well, had become a person of some wealth thereby. He was rather past the middle age when he bethought himself of insuring his life, and he had only just taken out his policy when he fell ill of an acute disease, which was certain to end fatally in a very few days. The doctor, half hesitatingly, revealed to him his hopeless state. "By jingo!" he exclaimed, rousing up at once into the old energy, "I shall do the insurance company! I was always a lucky fellow!"

--_N. Y. Press._

March Winds.

The devil makes the strong March wind
That lifts the skirts too high;
But angels send the whirling dust
That blows in the bad man's eye.

--_Life._

Reconciliation.

"Say, old man, why continue this coldness any longer? We haven't spoken to each other for two years, and because of a trivial quarrel."

"There is no reason why we shouldn't be friends. Of course, you were the aggressor in the quarrel, but I ask no apology."

"Oh, you're wrong. You started the row, you remember."

"No, I didn't. You killed my dog first----"

"Yes, but the hanged brute had been killing my chickens."

"It never killed one of them."

"It killed at least a dozen, and I'd shoot your other dog if it did that."

"And I'd pound the top of your head off for doing it."

"You couldn't pound one side of it."

"You're a liar."

"You're another."

"Come into the alley here and we'll have it out, you hound."

"I'll go you, you blear-eyed monkey."

--_Lincoln Journal._

Confiding.

A Chicago gambler, whose first name was George, used to visit a Chinaman's establishment and smoke opium almost daily. One day he rushed into the place and said, excitedly: "Hip, loan me $10. Thanks. I'll come in and pay you to-morrow noon, if I'm alive," and out he went with the money. About three o'clock the next afternoon a friend of the gambler dropped in on the Chinaman and said: "Hip, where is George to-day?" and the confiding Celestial wiped his eyes with the corner of his blouse and replied: "George, him dead."

--_Boston Globe._

A Nun-Like Girl and Her Mischievous Friend.

It was on the St. Jose train and two young ladies--one as serious and good as a little nun, the other with a black eye with the devil's own glint in it--sat behind the youngest minister in town. The quiet one held in her hand a purple pansy so large that it attracted the attention of the young minister. While he was still looking at it the train rushed into a tunnel. The black-eyed young woman grabbed the pansy in the darkness from her companion, and leaning over, dropped it into the lap of the godly man. When the train reached daylight again the young minister had turned, and with the pansy in his hand was glaring reprovingly at the nun-like girl between whose fingers he had seen the flower. Her face was blazing and her downcast eyes seemed to confess her guilt. The whole car snickered and the malicious black-eyed girl read her book unconsciously.

This is why the young minister preached on the iniquity of flirting, yesterday.

--_San Francisco Examiner._

Very Serious.

"Husband, I've got a very serious thing to tell you."

"What is it, Laura?"

"Oh, it's dreadful, it's about Johnny."

"What has he been doing?"

"Well, he came into the house this morning, and what do you think--he was chewing tobacco."

"Pshaw! Don't give me such a turn again, Laura. I didn't know but he had been chewing gum."

--_N. Y. News._

A WOMAN AT BANK.

The Trouble she gives the Receiving Teller.

"I've got $10," says she, "and I want to open an account."

"With pleasure, madam. What is your name?"

"Simpkins."

"Christian name, please."

"Sophronisba."

"Any middle name?"

"Katherine."

"What is your age, please?"

"That's none of your business."

"Pardon me, madame, it is the rule of the bank to make these inquiries. I cannot go on without these inquiries. It is as necessary for your own protection as ours."

"Thirty-five, then."

"Are you married or single?"

"Now, look here, mister, you are impertinent. Do I look married? I'd like to see the man who'd marry me if he dared."

"Shall I write married or single? Be as quick as you can, please."

"Single, then. And, as I said, if you think----"

"Residence?"

"Right here in the city."

"Quite so, but the street and number, please."

"That's nothing to do with it. I don't want you to call, and if you dare to send a police to see----"

"What is the place and number?"

"Thirteen ---- place. But I never saw anything like this in all my born----"

"Where were you born----"

"Same place, if you want to know."

"Have you an occupation?"

"Now see here. I suppose you want to know where I got this money. But I didn't steal it, if that's any satisfaction to you. Of course I----"

"What did you say your occupation is?"

"I didn't say; you didn't give me a chance. I keep the best boarding house in the town; meats three times day, and----"

"Please sign your name on this line."

"Sign my name? Don't you believe me? I never sign anything, only----"

"Very well, if you can't write, make your cross."

"Make me cross? That's just it, you make me so cross I can't. Sophronisba Katherine Simpkins. There."

"That will do. Kindly make way for the next person."

"Oh, but mister, look here. What have you got it?"

"Got what?"

"The age."

"Thirty-five."

"Does it make any difference if it ain't right?"

"It might make a serious difference."

"Oh, dear! Oh, dear, I've gone and perjured myself. But it's all your fault, you horrid man, you flustered me so. Did I say thirty-five? I didn't mean it. It's forty-five, so there."

And away she goes in a state of great indignation and perplexity.

--_Burlington Hawkeye._

An Effective Mule Invigorator.

While traveling in Virginia some time ago with a doctor we came upon an old colored man who was standing by a mule hitched to an old two-wheel vehicle. "Dis mule am balked, boss," said the old man; "an' I'll jis gib a dollah to de man what can start 'im."

"I will do it for less than that, uncle," said the doctor. He took his case from the carriage and selected a small syringe, which he filled with morphin. He went to the side of the mule and quickly inserting the syringe in his side pushed the contents into the animal. The mule reared upon his hind legs and giving an astonishing bray started down the road at a break neck speed. The aged colored man gave a look of astonishment at the doctor, and with a loud "Whoa!" started down the road after the mule. In the course of ten minutes we came up to the old man standing in the road waiting for us. The mule was nowhere in sight.

"Say, boss," said the darky, "how much you charge for dat stuff you put in dat mule?"

"Oh, ten cents will do," laughingly replied the doctor.

"Well, boss, heah is twenty cents. Squirt some of dat stuff in me. I must ketch dat ar mule."

--_Philadelphia Press._

The racy flavor of much of the recent news from the New England States shows that the cider of the vintage of 1889, which lurks in the gallon jug behind the door, is beginning to get a head on it.

--_Chicago News._

That man's policy was wiser who catching his son taking a whiff or two from a cigar, merely insisted on his finishing it, standing by him until he had done so. The succeeding two hours were never forgotten.

--_Tobacco Leaf._

That the moral nature of the pig is essentially mean and selfish is proven by the fact that he is always willing and ready to "squeal" when he gets into a tight place.

--_Baltimore American._

--_Chicago Liar._

The New York Prohibitionists have formally condemned recklessness in the conduct of the Pension Bureau. It is a good place to introduce a little temperance.

--_Boston Herald._

He Got the Trousers.

Husband--You want a bonnet and I want a pair of trousers, and I have only got ten dollars.

Wife (sobbing)--You don't suppose I can get a bonnet for ten dollars, do you?

--_Clothier and Furnisher._

A Curiosity.

Heard in an elevated car: "That man must be a saint."

"What makes you think so?"

"Because he almost broke his fingers trying to raise that window and he didn't swear at all."

--_N. Y. Morning Journal._

Clean in the Faith.

"Yas, sah, Mr. George," said an old negro, "we got ter keep clean; we got ter keep clean, sah, or dar ain't no hope o' de salwation."

"Why, then, don't you go and wash yourself?"

"Whar--whar--what, sah? W'y doan I go wash merse'f?"

"Yes, and put on a clean shirt. You are as dirty as you can be."

"Oh, now, yere, I ain't talkin' 'bout dat sorter keepin' clean. I waz talkin' 'bout keepin' clean in the faif, sah, in de faif. I ain't got no time ter fool erlong wid de waters o' dis yere life. Whut I means is ter keep yer speret clean, washed in the dewdraps o' de New Jerusalem; means, as I tells you, dat we mus' keep clean in de faif, sah--keep clean in de faif."

--_Arkansaw Traveler._

A Large Party.

Crimsonbeak--I expect a large party here to-day.

Yeast--Indeed! Who's coming?

"My uncle."

"Who else?"

"No one else."

"But you said a large party."

"Well, my uncle weighs 350 pounds."

--_Yonkers Statesman._

MRS. FLYNN AND THE GOAT.

The Lady's Stirring Narrative, with Spring Lamb Trimmings.

Mrs. Flynn relates with much pathos an incident in her life, that graphically illustrates woman's trustfulness and man's perfidy.

"Oi waz in the market wan mornin' lookin' fer some mate, an' a Dootch butcher axed me how an illegant bit av Spring lamb wad soot. Oi sed it wad do af it waz good, an he sed it waz the best in the market or he wudn't be offerin' it to a lady loike meself. Oi'm fond av Spring lamb, an so Oi took a hunk av it home an' cooked it fer me ould mon an' meself.

"May the divil take me av it tasted roight. It had a sort av a rank an romantic flavor thet Oi niver kem across afore, an' heaven help me, may Oi niver come across it again.

"Oi kept me jaw to meself, and said nathin'. After dinner the ould mon said the Spring lamb tasted kin o' quare an' he wondered had Oi cooked the baste enough. Oi said Oi had cooked the baste joost roight, an' Oi saw nathin wrong wid the taste av it.

"Whin the ould mon had gone out to wurruk, Oi tuk a luck at the chunk av mate that was left, an' phat do you tink Oi saw? A bit av the skin av the varmint, an' it had hair on it instead of wool, begorra. The thavin' Dootchman hed sold me goat instead av lamb! Bad luk to him!

"Oi coodn't affoord to lose the mate, d'ye see, an' so Oi kept me jaw to meself an' said nothin agin. Oi stewed it up wid spices and tings to disguoise the taste, an' we had it agin fer supper. Oi told the ould mon Oi didn't care fer enny Spring lamb fer supper, but it wuz very beautiful cooked up wid spices, an he needed plenty av mate now that he wuz wurkin' wid the Park Commishioners. He ate awhoile, an' thin he said the Spring lamb tasted kind o' quare, an' he thought it wuz too high-toned fer us.

"'Now, me darlint,' Oi said, 'the Spring lamb is a little high-toned, but it is none too good fer the loikes av us, an' ye moost ate hearty so ye can do good wurruk fer the Park Commishioners.'

"He said the Park Commishioners be blowed, an' he cood do good enough wurruk fer them on roast bafe, an' wad Oi git roast bafe the nixt toime?

"Oi said, 'My darlint, av coorse Oi'll git roast bafe the nixt toime, but we moost ate all the Spring lamb foorst.'

"Well, ye see it took me hoosband several days to git away wid the Spring lamb, but he foinly got trough wid the job, an' thin Oi took the bit av skin wid the hair on, phat Oi had saved as a guarantay av good faith, an' Oi wint down to the market. Oi hoonted up the beautiful Dootchman, an' sez Oi:

"'Have you enny noice mate this mornin', Dootchy?'

"'Phat koind wad you loike this mornin', Mrs. Flynn?' sez he.

"'Oi ate nothin' but the best,' sez Oi.

"'How wad a noice bit av Spring lamb soot?' sez he.

"'Tanks,' sez Oi. 'Spring lamb is a bit high-toned fer me. Oi'll take a foine large steak av ye plaze.'

"'About how large?' sez he.

"'About tin pounds,' sez Oi, 'an' a foine juicy wan, av ye plaze.'

"So Oi tuk the steak an' takin' a good grip av it, Oi slammed it around his big Dootch ears till he yelled bloody murther in fourteen languages. 'The nixt toime ye sell me goat fer Spring lamb, ye thavin' Dootchman'--an' Oi kept bastin' him around the ugly lugs--'the nixt toime ye sell me goat, Oi say, Oi'll make ye ate his whuskers.'"

--_N. Y. World._

Sam Wellerisms.

"It is a paneful sight," as the man said when his host took him out to inspect his new conservatory.

"You are a counter attraction," as the masher whispered to the pretty girl in the confectioner's shop.

"Teeth inserted without gas," as the fellow who owned a savage dog inscribed on a board outside his garden gate.

"He is suffering from organic diseases," as the doctor observed when he was called in to prescribe for a man who had been driven wild by a peripatetic piano-organ.

"She is painted by Heaven," as the enthusiastic young man exclaimed when he beheld a girl with a beautiful complexion.

"This is a sloe meeting," as one husband remarked to another at the tea fight which their wives had compelled them to attend.

--_Judy._

Accounting for the Edition.

Enthusiastic Friend--Ah, how d'do, Charlie? Gone into literature, I see. Quite a book of yours. I bought a copy yesterday.

Author (thoughtfully)--Now, if I could only find out who bought the other copy!

--_N. Y. Evening Sun._

Twenty-five Cents Ahead.

A story is told about a Kingston minister's marriage fee that causes amusement among the clergy. He was paid $1 for marrying a couple. After they departed he was about to hand the money to his wife, when the door bell was rung. The newly-married wife said she wanted a certificate. No marriage was good without one. It cost twenty-five cents for a blank that would suit her. The reverend gentleman filled the blank out in the usual form and she went away seemingly satisfied. A few days later she again appeared at the door. "Mister," said the woman in an aggrieved tone, "I looked through the papers and can't find a notice of our wedding. You ought not to treat us different from other folks." So the dominie went to a newspaper office and paid fifty cents to have a notice inserted. When he reached home he handed the remaining twenty-five cents to his wife with the remark: "Here, my dear, hurry and take this before that woman makes another call."

--_Kingston Freeman._

Not Very Flattering.

"Mighty fine woman I saw you lifting your hat to back there, old boy."

"Yes, rather."

"Some mash of yours?"

"Yes."

"Couldn't introduce a fellow, eh?"

"Might, if you'll come up to the house some evening."

"Oh! your wife?"

"Yes."

"Pshaw! I supposed it was your cook."

--_Detroit Free Press._

Two Kinds of Bands.

"Pap, did you ever hear music from a rubber band?" said Johnnie.

"No, my son, never. What in the world do you mean. Is it a lot of rubber figures that you blow up and then do they play music?"

"Naw, pap. Come out in the next room and I'll let you hear some music from a rubber band."

The old gentleman becoming interested, laid down his paper, wiped his glasses, and followed his son into the next room, where Johnnie had a rubber band stretched from one side of the wood box to the other, which he began to pick with his finger. "Now, pap, you can say that you have heard music from a rubber band."

"Yes," said the old man, "and I will be able to add that I have caused music by a leather band," and suiting the action to the word, he reached around for a strap, and before John knew it he felt as if eight million rubber bands were snapping him where his pants fit the tightest.

--_Liverpool Post._

It Hurt His Feelings.

Kansas Tramp--Mister, could you do a little something to assist a poor man?

Stranger--You don't look as though you were unable to work. You ought to be ashamed of yourself to go around this way. You are a disgrace to humanity. Why don't you go down to the river and take a bath and try to earn a living?

K. T. (pathetically)--Take a bath. Ain't it enough to have to drink the stuff?

--_Merchant Traveler._

The young ladies at the Delaware Water Gap had a "paint and powder party," one night recently, each maid appearing painted and powdered. There doesn't seem to have been any thing save the name to distinguish it from any other party attended by young ladies.

--_Norristown Herald._

Young Man of Killarney.

There was a young man of Killarney,
Who was chock full of what is called blarney.
He would sit on a stile,
And tell lies by the mile,
Would this dreadful young man of Killarney.

--_Pick-Me-Up._

THE ELIXIR OF LIFE.--By H. C. R.

Just Discovered.

Assistant (to magazine editor)--I see this young Miss ---- is making herself famous through the medium of the newspapers.

Magazine Editor--Yes--um--haven't we got a story of hers sent in four or five years ago?

Assistant--Yes, sir.