Among the Humorists and After Dinner Speakers, Vol. 1, Page 4

their grandfather's bed. Hetalked with them for a few minutes and they replied in awed whispers.Then when the nurse told them they must go, Prince Eddie said:

  "But, grandpa, can't we see the baby?"

  * * * * *

  Rossetti's fondness for humorous stories and his interest in aparticular soldier of fortune, or rather of misfortune, are shown inHall Caine's autobiography. Beginning life as the secretary of Ruskin,the man ultimately lived on his cleverness and audacity and madeRossetti in particular his conscious and delighted victim. Feeble asRossetti was, the visits of this man did him good, and he laughed allthe evening and told droll stories himself. One of the latter was of aman near to death to whom the clergyman came and said: "Dear friend,do you know who died to save you?" "Oh, meenister, meenister," saidthe dying man, "is this a time for conundrums?"

  * * * * *

  It is interesting to recall, apropos of the recent Milton celebration,an anecdote of Milton that was told in an old family letter written in1762, recently quoted in the columns of the London "Spectator":

  "Possibly you may not have heard this anecdote concerning him. JohnVallack--who, I believe, died after you came to Tavistock--told me it,and he lived in London in 1696. Milton, as you know, was blind.Charles the Second had the curiosity to see him, and said: 'God hathpunished you for your malice, etc., to my father by taking away youreyesight.'

  "'Aye,' says Milton, 'but before I lost my eyes he lost his head.'"

  * * * * *

  In writing a sketch of Washington a pupil ended her essay by saying:"Washington married a famous belle, Martha Custis, and in due timebecame the father of his country."

  * * * * *

  A certain regiment was on the march from Philadelphia to Gettysburgand the companies were ordered to move with a few minutes' intervalbetween them and to keep each other in sight, the band and drumsleading.

  The band soon got a long way ahead, and on reaching a bend, halted fora few minutes' rest. Presently up galloped a mounted officer in hothaste and shouted for the band sergeant.

  "What do you mean," he said, "by getting out of sight of the leadingcompany?"

  "We were not out of sight, sir," answered the sergeant.

  "What do you mean by telling me that!" exclaimed the officer in arage. "You were out of sight, I saw you myself."

  * * * * *

  Several ladies sat after a card party at the University Club a fewmornings ago, discussing the virtues of their husbands. "Mr.Bingleton," said one of them, referring to her life partner, "neverdrinks and never swears--indeed, he has no bad habits." "Does he eversmoke?" some one asked. "Yes; he likes a cigar just after he has eatena good meal. But, I suppose, on an average, he doesn't smoke more thanonce a month."

  * * * * *

  Ian Maclaren was talking to a group of literary beginners in New York."Begin your stories well," he said emphatically. "There's nothing likea good beginning. Indeed, it's half the battle." Then with a smilethis excellent beginner of stories added: "Always bear in mind thecase of the young man who, desiring to marry, secured a favorablehearing from his sweetheart's irascible father by opening theinterview with the words: 'I know a way, sir, whereby you can savemoney.'"

  * * * * *

  Benevolent gentleman--"My little boy, have you no better way to spendthis beautiful afternoon than by standing in front of the gate, idlingaway your time?"

  Boy--"I ain't idling away my time. There's a chump inside with mysister, who is paying me ten cents an hour to watch for pa."

  * * * * *

  That famous Scotch physician, Dr. George Fordyce, was unfortunatelysomewhat given to drink, and though he never was known to be deaddrunk, yet he was often in a state which rendered him unfit forprofessional duties. One night when he was in such a condition, he wassuddenly sent for to attend a lady of title who was very ill. He went,sat down, listened to her story, and felt her pulse. He found he wasnot up to his work. He lost his wits and in a moment of forgetfulnessexclaimed, "Drunk, by Jove!" Still he managed to write out a mildprescription. Early next morning he received a message from the noblepatient to call on her at once. Dr. Fordyce felt very uncomfortable.The lady evidently intended to upbraid him either for giving animproper prescription or for his disgraceful condition, but to hissurprise and relief she thanked him for his prompt compliance with herpressing summons, and then confessed that he had rightly diagnosed hercase. That unfortunately she occasionally indulged too freely indrink, but that she hoped he would preserve inviolable secrecy as tothe condition in which he had found her. Fordyce listened to her asgrave as a judge, then said:

  "Madam, you may depend on me. I shall be as silent as the grave."

  * * * * *

  A friend of Dean Swift one day sent him a turbot as a present by aservant lad who had frequently been on similar errands but had neverreceived anything from the dean for his trouble. Having gainedadmission he opened the study door, and putting down the fish on thefloor cried out rudely, "Master has sent you a turbot." "Young man,"said the dean rising from the chair, "is that the way you deliver amessage? Let me teach you better manners. Sit down in my chair; wewill change places, and I will show you how to behave in future." Theboy sat down, and the dean going out came up to the door, and making alow bow said, "Sir, master presents his kind compliments, hopes youare well, and requests your acceptance of a small present." "Does he?"replied the boy. "Return him my best thanks, and there's half-a-crownfor yourself." The dean thus caught in his own trap laughed heartilyand gave the boy a crown for his ready wit.

  * * * * *

  A spunky little mule was trying to throw his darky rider and inkicking about caught his hoof in a stirrup, upon which the darky criedout in frightened tones, "Say, if you'se gwine to git on, I'se gwineto git off."

  * * * * *

  "I ought not to be surprised by anything at my time of life," said awell-known minister, "but one of my flock did manage to take my breathaway. I was preaching about the Father's tender wisdom in caring forus all," he said. "I illustrated by saying that the Father knows whichof us grows best in sunlight and which of us must have shade. 'Youknow you plant roses in the sunshine,' I said, 'and heliotrope andgeraniums; but if you want your fuchsias to grow they must be kept ina shady nook.' After the sermon, which I hoped would be a comfortingone, a woman came up to me, her face glowing with pleasure that wasevidently deep and true. 'O, Dr. ----, I am so grateful for thatsermon,' she said, clasping my hand and shaking it warmly. My heartglowed for a moment, while I wondered what tender place in her heartand life I had touched. Only for a moment, though. 'Yes,' she went on,fervently, 'I never knew before what was the matter with myfuchsias.'"

  * * * * *

  There are some singular discounts allowed in the book trade. They werehappily illustrated on one occasion by Mark Twain. One day while thehumorist was connected with a publishing house he went into a bookstore and picking up a volume asked the price. He then suggested thatas a publisher he was entitled to 50 per cent discount. To this theclerk assented.

  "As I am also an author," said Mark, "it would appear that I am againentitled to 50 per cent discount."

  Again the clerk bowed.

  "And as a personal friend of the proprietor," he modestly continued,"I presume that you will allow me the usual 25 per cent. discount."

  Another bow from the salesman.

  "Well," drawled the unblushing humorist, "under these conditions Ithink I may as well take the book. What's the tax?"

  The clerk took out his pencil and figured industriously. Then he saidwith the greatest obsequiousness:

  "As near as I can calculate we owe you the book and about 37-1/2cents."

  * * * * *

  Clyde Fitch tells a n
ew story of Whistler. The artist was in Paris atthe time of the coronation of King Edward, and at a reception oneevening a duchess said to him: "I believe you know King Edward, Mr.Whistler."

  "No, madame," replied Whistler.

  "Why, that's odd," she murmured; "I met the King at a dinner-partylast year, and he said that he knew you."

  "Oh," said the painter, "that was just his brag."

  * * * * *

  A London friend who was a member of the same club as Mr. Whistlerwrites me this, which I have not seen before in print. It