Good Stories Reprinted from the Ladies' Home Journal of Philadelphia - LightNovelsOnl.com
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The minister, mistaking his intentions, asked: "Young man, are you seeking salvation?"
To which the young man responded: "At present I am seeking Sal Jackson!"
_As a Last Resort_
"Well, doctor," said the patient who was an incessant talker, "why in the world don't you look at my tongue, if you want to, instead of writing away like a newspaper editor? How long do you expect I am going to sit here with my mouth wide open?"
"Just one moment more, please, madam," replied the doctor; "I only wanted you to keep still long enough so that I could write this prescription."
_He Got the Information_
At a country fair a machine which bore a sign reading, "How to Make Your Trousers Last," occupied a prominent position in the grounds and attracted much attention, says "Harper's Weekly." A countryman who stood gaping before it was told by the exhibitor, a person with a long black mustache, a minstrel-stripe s.h.i.+rt, and a ninety-four-carat diamond in a red cravat, that for one cent deposited in the slot the machine would dispense its valuable sartorial advice. The countryman dug the required coin from the depths of a deep pocket and dropped it in the slot. Instantly the machine delivered a card on which was neatly printed:
"Make your coat and waistcoat first."
_After Many Trials_
He WAS a sad-faced American tourist, and as he seated himself in a London restaurant he was immediately attended by an obsequious waiter.
"I want two eggs," said the American--"one fried on one side and one on the other."
"'Ow is that, sir ?" asked the astounded waiter.
"Two eggs--one fried on one side and one on the other."
"Very well, sir."
The waiter was gone several minutes, and when he returned his face was a study.
"Would you please repeat your border, sir?"
"I said, very distinctly, two eggs--one fried on one side and one on the other."
Oppressive silence, and then a dazed "Very well, sir."
This time he was gone longer, and when he returned he said anxiously:
"Would it be awsking too much, sir, to 'ave you repeat your border, sir? I cawn't think I 'ave it right, sir, y'know."
"Two eggs," said the American sadly and patiently--"one fried on one side and one on the other."
More oppressive silence and another and fainter "Very well, sir."
This time he was gone still longer. When he returned his collar was unb.u.t.toned, his hair disheveled and his face scratched and bleeding.
Leaning over the waiting patron he whispered beseechingly:
"Would you mind tyking boiled heggs, sir? I've 'ad some words with the cook."
_It Was His Only Tie_
One morning, as Mark Twain returned from a neighborhood morning call, sans necktie, his wife met him at the door with the exclamation; "There, Sam, you have been over to the Stowes's again without a necktie! It's really disgraceful the way you neglect your dress!"
Her husband said nothing, but went up to his room.
A few minutes later his neighbor--Mrs. S.--was summoned to the door by a messenger, who presented her with a small box neatly done up. She opened it and found a black silk necktie, accompanied by the following note:
"Here is a necktie. Take it out and look at it. I think I stayed half an hour this morning. At the end of that time will you kindly return it, as it is the only one I have?--MARK TWAIN."
Playing Doctor
BILLY: "Gentlemen, before we begin to operate, if you will hold the patient's hands and feet I'll get that four cents out of his right-hand pocket."
_The Feminine Point of View_
The Willoughbys had said good-by to Mrs. Kent. Then Mr. Willoughby spoke thoughtfully:
"It was pleasant of her to say that about wis.h.i.+ng she could see more of people like us, who are interested in real things, instead of the foolish round of gayety that takes up so much of her time and gives her so little satisfaction, wasn't it?"
His wife stole a sidewise glance at his gratified face, and a satirical smile crossed her own countenance.
"Very pleasant, George," she said clearly. "But what I knew she meant, and what she knew that I knew she meant, was that my walking-skirt is an inch too long and my sleeves are old style, and your coat, poor dear, is beginning to look s.h.i.+ny in the back."
"Why--what--how----" began Mr. Willoughby helplessly; then he shook his head and gave it up.
_He Had Faith in the Doctor_
A young English laborer went to the register's office to record his father's death. The register asked the date of death.
"Well, father ain't dead yet," was the reply; "but he will be dead before morning, and I thought it would save me another trip if you would put it down now."
"Oh, that won't do at all," said the register. "Why, your father may be well before morning."
"Ah, no, he won't," said the young laborer. "Our doctor says he won't, and he knows what he's given father."