Good Stories Reprinted from the Ladies' Home Journal of Philadelphia - LightNovelsOnl.com
You're reading novel online at LightNovelsOnl.com. Please use the follow button to get notifications about your favorite novels and its latest chapters so you can come back anytime and won't miss anything.
All of a sudden the host cried in a loud voice:
"I will tell you, gentlemen, this is the truth: I have kissed the dainty j.a.panese girl. I have kissed the South Sea Island maiden. I have kissed the slim Indian beauty. And the girls of England, of Germany, even of America, I have kissed, but it is most true that to kiss my wife is best of all."
Then a young man cried across the table:
"By Heaven, sir, you are right there!"
_So Mother--So Son_
Vincent was altogether too garrulous in school to please his teachers. Such punishments as the inst.i.tution allowed to be meted out were tried without any apparent effect upon the boy until at last the head Master decided to mention the lad's fault upon his monthly report.
So the next report to his father had these words: "Vincent talks a great deal."
Back came the report by mail duly signed, but with this written in red ink under the comment: "You ought to hear his mother."
_An Endless Wash_
In one of the lesser Indian hill wars an English detachment took an Afghan prisoner. The Afghan was very dirty. Accordingly two privates were deputed to strip and wash him.
The privates dragged the man to a stream of running water, undressed him, plunged him in, and set upon him l.u.s.tily with stiff brushes and large cakes of white soap.
After a long time one of the privates came back to make a report. He saluted his officer and said disconsolately:
"It's no use, sir. It's no use."
"No use?" said the officer. "What do you mean? Haven't you washed that Afghan yet?"
"It's no use, sir," the private repeated. "We've washed him for two hours, but it's no use."
"How do you mean it's no use ?" said the officer angrily.
"Why, sir," said the private, "after rubbin' him and scrubbin' him till our arms ached I'll be hanged if we didn't come to another suit of clothes."
_Once Dead Always Dead_
The hero of the play, after putting up a stiff fight with the villain, had died to slow music, says a storyteller in "The Chicago Tribune."
The audience insisted on his coming before the curtain.
He refused to appear.
But the audience still insisted.
Then the manager, a gentleman with a strong accent, came to the front.
"Ladies an' gintlemen," he said, "the carpse thanks ye kindly, but he says he's dead, an' he's goin' to stay dead."
_Had to Get it Done Somehow_
A little boy bustled into a grocery one day with a memorandum in his hand.
"h.e.l.lo, Mr. Smith," he said. "I want thirteen pounds of coffee at 32 cents."
"Very good," said the grocer, and he noted down the sale, and put his clerk to packing the coffee. "Anything else, Charlie?"
"Yes. Twenty-seven pounds of sugar at 9 cents."
"The loaf, eh? And what else?"
"Seven and a half pounds of bacon at 20 cents."
"That will be a good brand. Go on."
"Five pounds of tea at 90 cents; eleven and a half quarts of mola.s.ses at 8 cents a pint; two eight-pound hams at 21 1/4 cents, and five dozen jars of pickled walnuts at 24 cents a jar."
The grocer made out the bill,
"It's a big order," he said. "Did your mother tell you to pay for it?"
"My mother," said the boy, as he pocketed the neat and accurate bill, "has nothing to do with this business. It is my arithmetic lesson and I had to get it done somehow."
_A Personal Demonstration_
Chatting in leisurely fas.h.i.+on with Prince Bismarck in Berlin Lord Russell asked the Chancellor how he managed to rid himself of importunate visitors whom he could not refuse to see, but who stuck like burrs when once admitted.
"Oh," replied Bismarck, "I have my easy escape. My wife knows people of this cla.s.s very well, and when she is sure there is a bore here and sees them staying too long she manages to call me away on some plausible pretext."
Scarcely had he finished speaking when the Princess Bismarck appeared at the door. "My dear," she said to her husband, "you must come at once and take your medicine; you should have taken it an hour ago."
_Not for Him_
A quiet and retiring citizen occupied a seat near the door of a crowded car when a masterful stout woman entered.
Having no newspaper behind which to hide he was fixed and subjugated by her glittering eye. He rose and offered his place to her.
Seating herself--without thanking him--she exclaimed in tones that reached to the farthest end of the car: