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OLIVER HERFORD]
AMONG THE HUMORISTS AND AFTER-DINNER SPEAKERS
A NEW COLLECTION OF HUMOROUS STORIES AND ANECDOTES
SELECTED AND ARRANGED BY WILLIAM PATTEN
Editor of American Short Story Classics, Foreign Short Story Classics, etc.
VOL. I
P. F. COLLIER & SON NEW YORK
COPYRIGHT 1909 BY P. F. COLLIER & SON
PARTIAL LIST OF THE NAMES OF STORY-TELLERS IN THIS VOLUME
GEORGE ADE SIR WILFRID LAURIER
BRET HARTE OLIVER HERFORD
MARK TWAIN J. M. BARRIE
SEC. OF STATE P. C. KNOX RICHARD MANSFIELD
W. M. EVARTS JOHN SHARP WILLIAMS
DE WOLF HOPPER J. G. BLAINE
KING EDWARD OF ENGLAND PHILLIPS BROOKS
JOSEPH JEFFERSON DANIEL J. SULLY
LORD BEACONSFIELD BILL NYE
ABRAHAM LINCOLN JOHN C. SPOONER
ALVEY A. ADEE ROBERT EDESON
PATRICK A. COLLINS ANDREW LANG
HORACE T. EASTMAN BENJAMIN R. TILLMAN
D. G. ROSSETTI WILLIAM E. GLADSTONE
J. M. MACLAREN CHARLES LAMB
DEAN SWIFT EDWIN BOOTH
CLYDE FITCH WEEDON GROSSMITH
J. MCNEILL WHISTLER SENATOR W. A. CLARK
LEIGH HUNT FRANCIS WILSON
EDWARD EVERETT HALE CHAUNCEY M. DEPEW
DEAN HOLE ALBERT J. BEVERIDGE
IRVING BACHELLER BEERBOHM TREE
THOMAS B. REED HERBERT S. STONE
J. C. S. BLACKBURN FRANK R. STOCKTON
N. C. GOODWIN HENRY JAMES
BRANDER MATTHEWS WILLIAM ALLEN WHITE
ANDREW CARNEGIE BISHOP BREWSTER
SPEAKER CANNON FREDERIC REMINGTON
WALTER DAMROSCH JULIAN RALPH
REV. ROBERT COLLYER SENATOR JOHN T. MORGAN
REV. SAM JONES J. J. INGALLS
DEAN KIRCHWEY ARCHBISHOP RYAN
JOHN WANAMAKER J. A. TAWNEY
HENRY GUY CARLETON THOS. BAILEY ALDRICH
CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS ELIHU ROOT
_PREFACE_
_The collection of these humorous paragraphs has extended over anumber of years. Even a small beginning became a source of suchentertainment that the collection grew and grew, always without anythought of publication._
_The man who can not laugh has yet to be found. Therein lies thatimmediate appeal to a common ground which the sense of humor gives,and it has been a conspicuous characteristic of those who look to thepublic for appreciation and support. Lord Palmerston and AbrahamLincoln were two notable examples of men for whom sympathy quickenedthrough their ready wit, and no political speaker drives home hisarguments half so well as he who can introduce a witty illustration.The joke has ever been a potent factor in combating oppression andcorruption, in ridiculing shams. It has embalmed some reputations, andhas blasted others. It is the champion of the weak against the strong,and has often illuminated for us, as in a flash, a glimpse ofcharacter or custom that would otherwise have been lost to the world._
_There is only one similar collection of which I am aware, the "JestBook" by Mark Lemon, who was for twenty-nine years the editor of"Punch." Alas that there should be fashions in jokes as well as inhats, for much of his book that we know must have been humorousreading to his contemporaries, leaves us, of the present generation inAmerica, indifferent._
_I shall be glad if some of my readers are minded to do a graceful actand send me, in return, some paragraphs to add to my collection._
_I wish to take this opportunity to thank the following publicationsfor the paragraphs borrowed from their columns:_
_Evening Sun, Lippincott's, Pittsburg Dispatch, San FranciscoNews-Letter, Ladies' Home Journal, Washington Star, Mail and Express,Youth's Companion, Life, Good Housekeeping, Argonaut, BuffaloCommercial, Tit-Bits, Punch, The Tattler, Harper's Weekly, Harper'sMonthly, Democratic Telegram, Cleveland Plaindealer, Harvard Lampoon,Judge, Philadelphia Ledger, Saturday Evening Post, PhiladelphiaEvening Bulletin, Boston Herald, Kansas City Star, Washington Post,Success, Atchison Globe, New York Times, Woman's Home Companion,London Mail, Louisville Courier-Journal, Rochester Post-Express, NewYork Tribune, New York Observer, Chicago Daily News, Pittsburg Post,Pittsburg Observer, Philadelphia Public Ledger, New York World,Pick-me-up, Harper's Bazar, The Green Bag, Tacoma Ledger, PittsburgDispatch, The Wasp, Cornell Widow, Washington Post, Kansas CityIndependent, Short Stories._
_W. P._
AMONG THE HUMORISTS AND AFTER-DINNER SPEAKERS
There is a delicious flavor about this story of a Virginia lady,married to a man who, though uniformly unsuccessful in his huntingtrips, boastingly spoke of his "killings."
One day, returning from a trip, with the usual accompaniment of anempty bag, it occurred to him that his wife would make fun of him ifhe returned without even one proof of his oft-boasted skill. So hepurchased a brace of partridges to deceive his trusting spouse. As hethrew them on the table in front of her, he observed: "Well, my dear,you see I am not so awkward with the gun after all."
"Dick," replied the wife, turning from the birds with a grimace, aftera brief examination, "you were quite right in shooting these birdsto-day; to-morrow it would have been too late."
* * * * *
Uncle Toby was aghast at finding a strange darky with his arm aroundMandy's waist.
"Mandy, tell dat niggah to take his ahm 'way from round yo' waist," heindignantly commanded. "Tell him yo'self," said Mandy haughtily. "He'sa puffect stranger to me."
* * * * *
A Cockney tourist was on a visit to a Highland town famous for itsgolf-links. Through wearing a pair of stiff leather gaiters severalsizes too large for him, he was compelled to walk bow-legged. Being avery slow player, others were forced to wait for him at every hole. Atthe fourth hole a Highlander after watching the visitor miss the ballthree times was unable to wait any longer, and drove his ball cleanbetween the tourist's legs. "What!" he of the gaitered legs yelledfuriously. "Do you call that golf?" "Mebbe no," replied the Gael, "butit's very good croquet."
* * * * *
After the sermon on Sunday morning the rector welcomed and shook handswith a young German.
"And are you a regular communicant?" said the rector.
"Yes," said the German, "I take the 7.45 every morning."
* * * * *
Meeting a negro, a certain Southern gentleman asked him how he wasgetting on.
The negro assumed a troubled look, and replied:
"Oh, so far's physicality goes, I'm all right; but I sure do have matroubles wif ma wife."
"Well, Sam, I'm sorry to hear that. What seems to be the matter?"
"She thinks money grows on trees, I reckon. All de time she keepspesterin' me foh pinch o' change. If it ain't a dollah it's half or aquarter she wants."
"What on earth does she do with the money?"<
br />
"I dunno. Ain't nevah give her none yet."
* * * * *
A mountaineer of one of the back counties of North Carolina wasarraigned with several others for illicit distilling. "Defendant,"said the court, "what is your name?"
"Joshua," was the reply.
"Are you the man who made the sun stand still?"
Quick as a flash came the answer, "No, sir; I am the man who made themoonshine."
* * * * *
"They thought more of the Legion of Honor in the time of the firstNapoleon than they do now," said a well-known Frenchman. "The emperorone day met an old one-armed veteran.
"'How did you lose your arm?' he asked.
"'Sire, at Austerlitz.'
"'And were you not decorated?'
"'No, sire.'
"'Then here is my own cross for you; I make you chevalier.'
"'Your Majesty names me chevalier because I have lost one arm! Whatwould your Majesty have done had I lost both arms?'
"'Oh, in that case I should have made you Officer of the Legion.'
"Whereupon the old soldier immediately drew his sword and cut off hisother arm."
There is no particular reason to doubt this story. The only questionis, how did he do it?
* * * * *
A stranger in Boston was interested to discover, when dining withfriends once, that the dessert he would have classed as cream layercake at home was known in Boston as "Washington pie." And the nexttime he lunched at a restaurant, he ordered the same thing; but thewaiter put before him a rather heavy looking square of cake coveredwith chocolate, instead of the cream cake the guest had made up hismind to enjoy. A puzzled expression came over his face as he saidreprovingly, "I ordered _Washington_ pie, waiter."
"That is Washington pie, sir."
"Well," expostulated the disappointed man, "I did not mean BookerT.--I want _George!_"
* * * * *
George Ade, automobiling in Indiana, dined at a country hotel among aroomful of ministers.
The ministers, who were holding a convention in the town, were muchamused when Mr. Ade's identity was disclosed to them.
One of them said during dinner:
"How does a humorist of your stamp feel, sir, in such reverend companyas this?"
"I feel," said Mr. Ade promptly, "like a lion in a den of Daniels."
* * * * *
It was a crowded tram car. Among those who could not find seats was ayoung lady. Close to where she stood an old man was sitting. Hestruggled as if to rise. The young woman cast a glance of scorn at oneor two men hiding behind newspapers. "Please don't get up," she saidto the old man, "I beg you won't." The conductor rang the bell and thecar went on. The old man's features worked convulsively and he moppedhis face with his handkerchief. At the next stopping place he againtried to rise and again the young woman tried to stop him. "I wouldmuch rather stand," she said, continuing to block his way. "I don'tcare whether you would or not," said the old man, crimson with fury,"I want to get out. You've made me come half a mile too far already.Here, you, stop the car." But it was too late, the bell had alreadyrung and he had to wait until the next stopping place was reached.
* * * * *
"I want some cigars for my husband for Christmas."
"What kind, madam?"
"Well, I don't know, exactly; but he is a middle-aged man and alwaysdresses in black."
* * * * *
John D. Rockefeller, Jr., tells a story of his father:
"Father tells many stories. Sometimes he tells a new one. Not long agohe related one to me that concerned a man who had imbibed rather toofreely. The man, in this condition, fell into a watering trough. Tothe officer who came to help him out as he wallowed in the water, hesaid:
"'Offzer, I ken save self. You save women an' shildern.'"
* * * * *
"On Sunday, September 20, the wife of ---- of a daughter. Othersplease copy."
* * * * *
Bret Harte was so frequently complimented as the author of "LittleBreeches" that he was almost as sorry it was ever written as wasColonel John Hay, who preferred his fame to rest on more ambitiousworks. A gushing lady who prided herself upon her literary tastes,said to him once: "My dear Mr. Harte, I am so delighted to meet you. Ihave read everything you ever wrote, but of all your dialect versethere is none that compares to your 'Little Breeches.'"
"I quite agree with you, madam," said Mr. Harte, "but you have put thelittle breeches on the wrong man."
* * * * *
Mr. Knox, the Secretary of State in Taft's Cabinet, was formerlyengaged in the practise of law in Pittsburg.
One day, says a friend, Mr. Knox was much put out to find on hisarrival at his office that everything was topsy-turvy and that thetemperature of his rooms was much too low for comfort. Summoning hisoffice-boy, a lad but recently entered his employ, the lawyer askedwho had raised every window in the place on such a cold morning.
"Mr. Muldoon, sir," was the answer.
"Who is Mr. Muldoon?" asked the attorney.
"The janitor, sir."
"Who carried off my waste-basket?" was the next question.
"Mr. Reilly, sir."
"And who is Mr. Reilly?"
"He's the man that cleans the rooms."
Mr. Knox looked sternly at the boy and said: "See here, Richard, wecall men by their first names here. We don't 'mister' them in thisoffice. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir." And the boy retired.
In a few minutes he reappeared and in a shrill, piping voiceannounced:
"There's a gentleman that wants to see you, Philander."
* * * * *
A Scottish parson, still on the under side of forty, was driving homefrom an outlying hamlet when he overtook a young woman. He recognizedher as the maid of all work at a farm which he would pass, so hepulled up and offered her a lift. Mary gladly accepted his offer andthey chatted pleasantly all the way to the farm gate.
"Thank you, sir," she said as she got down.
"Don't mention it, Mary. Don't mention it," he told her politely.
"No, I won't," Mary obligingly assured him.
* * * * *
A little girl was shown her newly-arrived baby brother. Looking at himlovingly she said, "When will he talk, mother?" "Oh not for a longtime yet," said the mother. "Yes, but when?" persisted the child."Well, not for a year or so." After thinking for minute the childexclaimed, "How funny. Miss Clark read out of the Bible this morningthat Job cursed the hour he was born."
* * * * *
W. A. Sponsler, when in the Pennsylvania State Legislature, was givento the making of very elaborate and florid speeches, and one daybrought an address to a close with "_Vox populi, vox Dei_."
"I'll bet you don't know the meaning of what Sponsler just said," saidAl Crawford to Hugh E. Mackin.
"I don't know!" replied Mackin, indignantly. "Of course, I know!"
"You don't know for ten dollars!" suggested Crawford.
Mackin, still indignant, posted his part of the wager with anothermember of the Legislature, and Crawford said tauntingly:
"Well, now, tell us, what does it mean?"
"_Vox populi, vox Dei_," quoted Mackin, solemnly, "as everybody knows,is French for 'My God! why hast thou forsaken me?'"
"Give him the money," said Crawford. "Darned if he don't know afterall!"
* * * * *
There is an old lady living in a small town in southern Pennsylvaniawho makes great efforts to keep abreast of the times. Heropportunities, however, are circumscribed, and she is sometimescompelled to resort to her imagination. She went to a church sociablelately, and as she entered the room one of the attendants sa
id:
"Good evening, auntie. I am glad you came. We are going to havetableaux this evening."
"Yes, I know," replied the old lady; "I smelt 'em when I first camein."
* * * * *
Fifer was a dog of friendly and social habits, but when he wanderedinto the lecture-tent at a well-known New Thought summer school andwent to sleep between the chairs, he did a very foolish thing. A womancoming in poked him in the ribs with her parasol, startling him fromhis peaceful dreams, and he sprang upon her with a savage bite. A mangrabbed him and he grabbed the man. The excitement was intense when anearnest little woman standing on a chair cried, "Some one hold theThought!" "Hang the Thought!" shouted a man in the rear. "Some onehold the dog!"
* * * * *
The boy was going away to school, full of high hope.
"I shall make the football team and color two pipes the first year!"he said bravely.
His mother kissed him and wept. His father wrung his hand in silence.
They were too full for speech then.
But when he was gone, and they were calmer, they talked together ofhim, and prayed his ambition might not carry him beyond his strength.
* * * * *
The car was entirely empty with the exception of one man, but as Ientered he rose, made me an unsteady but magnificent bow, and said:"Madam, pleashe be kind 'nough to asshept thish plashe."
There was nothing else for me to do, so I thanked him