Part 17 (1/2)

”There was no reply. The small, white hand did not move.

”'Who's there?' he repeated. 'Answer me or I'll shoot.'

”Again there was no reply.

”Snooks cautiously raised himself, took careful aim and fired.

”From that night on he's limped. Shot off two of his own toes.”

When the Rev. Dr. Henson, then of Chicago, came to the New York Chautauqua to lecture on ”Fools,” Bishop Vincent introduced him thus:

”Ladies and gentlemen, we are now to have a lecture on 'Fools' by one of the most distinguished----”

Here there was a long pause, the Bishop's inflection indicating that he had finished. The audience roared with delight, and roared again, so that it was some time before the sentence was concluded--”men of Chicago.”

Dr. Henson, who is a man of ready wit, stepped to the front of the platform, and said:

”Ladies and gentlemen, I am not so great a fool as Bishop Vincent----”

and then he paused as if he had finished, and the audience went fairly wild over the situation. When quiet was restored, Dr. Henson concluded--”would have you think.”

Doctor (feeling Sandy's pulse in bed)--”What do you drink?”

Sandy (with brightening face)--”Oh, I'm nae particular, doctor!

Anything you've got with ye.”

Every employee of the Bank of England is required to sign his name in a book on his arrival in the morning, and, if late, must give the reason therefor. The chief cause of tardiness is usually fog, and the first man to arrive writes ”fog” opposite his name, and those who follow write ”ditto.” One day, however, the first late man gave as the reason, ”wife had twins,” and twenty other late men mechanically signed ”ditto” underneath.

At a dinner in Was.h.i.+ngton there was told a Scotch story of a paris.h.i.+oner who had strayed from his own kirk.

”Why weren't you at the kirk on Sunday?” asked the preacher of the culprit on meeting him a day or two later.

”I was at Mr. McClellan's kirk,” said the other.

”I don't like you running about to strange kirks like that,” continued the minister. ”Not that I object to your hearing Mr. McClellan, but I'm sure you widna like your sheep straying into strange pastures.”

”I widna care a grain, sir, if it was better gra.s.s,” responded the paris.h.i.+oner.

Tommy, very sleepy, was saying his prayers. ”Now I lay me down to sleep,” he began. ”I pray the Lord my soul to keep.”