Part 53 (2/2)

”It will cost you 50 cents for three minutes,” she said sweetly.

”Fifty cents! Ye G.o.ds!” cried the man. ”I don't want to buy stock in the telephone company. I only want to talk a minute or so.

Why--why--out in Pittsburg we can call up all Hades for 50 cents!”

”Yes, I know, sir,” replied the girl, ”but isn't that within your city limits?”

General St. Clair Mulholland, veteran and historian of the civil war, tells an incident showing the utter worthlessness of Confederate paper money at the close of the war. ”Shortly after Lee's surrender,” says the General, ”I was a short distance from Richmond. The Confederate soldiers were going home to become men of peace again and were thinking about their farms. One had a lame, broken-down horse which he viewed with pride. 'Wish I had him, Jim,' said the other. 'What'll you take for him? I'll give you $20,000 for him.' 'No,' said Jim. 'Give you $50,000.' 'No,' said Jim. 'Give you $100,000,' his friend said.

'Not much,' replied Jim, 'I just gave $120,000 to have him shod.'”

The Magistrate--”You seem to have committed a very grave a.s.sault on the defendant just because he differed from you in an argument.”

The Defendant--”There was no help for it, your wors.h.i.+p. The man is a perfect idiot.”

The Magistrate--”Well, you must pay a fine of 50 francs and costs, and in future you should try and understand that idiots are human beings, the same as you and I.”

Sentimental Young Lady--”Ah Professor! what would this old oak say if it could talk?”

Professor--”It would say, 'I am an elm.'”

”You needn't begin jollying me,” said the gruff man to the man who had land to sell. ”I'm not a man that can be affected by flattery. When I--”

”That's just what I said to my boss,” interrupted the agent. ”I told him, when he suggested your name to me, that it was a relief to call on a man who did not expect to be praised and flattered to his face all the time. I tell you, Mr. Grump, this city has mighty few men such as you. Nine men out of ten are simply dying to have some one tell them how great they are, but you are above such weakness. Any one can see that at a glance. I'm glad of it. It's helpful to me to meet a man who rises superior to the petty tactics of the average solicitor.

It's a real and lasting benefit, and an instructive experience.”

Ten minutes later, after a few more such comments on the part of the agent, the man who could not be flattered into signing the contract was asking which line his name should be written upon.

Billy Martin, aged four, came to his mother and in great ecstasy exclaimed, ”Oh, mother! Louise and Carberry found such a nice dead cat, and they are going to have a funeral, and can I go?” Permission was given, and when Billy returned he was questioned as to the outcome of the funeral.

”They did not have it at all.”

”And why not?”

”Mother,” was the answer, ”the cat was too dead.”

The late H. C. Bunner when editor of ”Puck,” once received a letter accompanying a number of would-be jokes in which the writer asked: ”What will you give me for these?” ”Ten yards start,” was Bunner's generous offer, written beneath the query.

One day Riley was riding on top of a 'bus in London with his friend Casey. He was nearly worn out with several hours' sight-seeing and the bustle and excitement of the London street, the hoi polloi, the Billingsgate and the din and rattle were becoming almost unbearable when they came in sight of Westminster Abbey. Just as they did so, the chimes burst forth in joyous melody, and he said to Casey, ”Isn't it sublime? Isn't it glorious to hear those chimes pealing and doesn't it inspire one with renewed vigor?” Casey leaned over, with hand to his ear, and said, ”You'll have to speak a little louder, Riley; I can't hear you.” Riley continued, ”Those magnificent chimes. Do you not hear them pealing? Do they not imbue you with a feeling of almost reverence? Do they not awaken tender memories of the past?” Casey again leaned forward and said, ”I can't hear you. You'll have to speak louder.” Riley got as close to him as possible and said, ”Do you not hear the melodious pealing of the chimes? Do they not recall the salutation of old Trinity on a Sabbath morning? Do they not take you back into the dim vistas of the past when the world was young, and touch your heart with a feeling of pathos?” Casey put his mouth close to Riley's ear and said, ”Those d-- bells are making such a racket, Riley, that I can't hear you.”

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