He Caught It, But–
The ferry-dock was crowded with weary homegoers when through the crowd rushed a man—hot, excited, laden to the chin with bundles of every shape and size. He sprinted down the pier, his eyes fixed on a ferryboat only two or three feet out from the pier. He paused but an instant on the string-piece, and then, cheered on by the amused crowd, he made a flying leap across the intervening stretch of water and landed safely on the deck. A fat man happened to be standing on the exact spot on which he struck, and they both went down with a resounding crash. When the arriving man had somewhat recovered his breath he apologized to the fat man. "I hope I didn't hurt you," he said. "I am sorry. But, anyway, I caught the boat!"
"But, you idiot," said the fat man, "the boat was coming in!"
He Didn't Mind
A certain railway in Michigan has a station entitled Sawyer's Mills, but usually entitled, for short, Sawyer's.
A rural couple on one of the trains attracted much attention by their evident fondness for each other until the brakeman thrust his head in the doorway of the car and called out, "Sawyer! Sawyer!"
"Reuben" suddenly assumed the perpendicular and indignantly exclaimed,
"Well, I don't care if you did; we've been engaged three weeks."
He Announced His Intentions
Young man and his lady-love attended a protracted meeting which was being held in the village church. Arriving late they found the church filled, but a gentleman arose and gave the lady his seat, while the young man was ushered far away to a seat in another part of the building.
The service grew warm and impressive.
"Will those who want our prayers please stand up?" said the preacher.
At this juncture the young man thought it was getting late and he would get his sweetheart and go home, but not just knowing where she sat he rose to his feet and looked over the audience.
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 shirt, 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 unbuttoned, 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 wishing 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 shiny 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."
What He Used the Milk For
A clergyman had been for some time displeased with the quality of milk served him. At length he determined to remonstrate with his milkman for supplying such weak stuff. He began mildly:
"I've been wanting to see you in regard to the quality of milk with which you are serving me."
"Yes, sir," uneasily answered the tradesman.
"I only wanted to say," continued the minister, "that I use the milk for drinking purposes exclusively, and not for christening."
Nothing if Not Polite
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