SOME GOOD STORIES.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1523, 28 February 1901, Page 18

SOME GOOD STORIES.

THE JEW'S REFUSAL. One Jew and four reputed Christians •were playing poker on an Atlantic liner. The pool was piled with fifty sovereigns. The Jew asked for two cards, and one of them was turned —the queen or diamonds. “I won’t take it” he protested. “But you must,” said the dealer. 1 won’t,” repeated the Jew. “I’ll take my ten pounds out of the pool and leave the game.” “You can leave the game, but you must leave ycur money ’ was the reply. So he gave in and took the card. Only two were betting/ one of whom was the Jew, who raised and raised his adversary. “But, my dear fellow, I know your hand can’t be worth much, it isn t fair,” said the Christian. “Well, IU see you ” was the reply. The Christian laid down four knaves'. The Jew showed four queens. “But what on earth—why did you refuse the queen of diamonds. ed the loser. The Jew smiled pleasantly, as he emptied the pool. ‘ That is my business,” he replied. the absent-minded shopper. Young, married, studious, visionary, and very absent-minded, he approached the young lady at the as though walking in his sleep. “Please let me see a sample c.t your left-hand pockets,” was his surprising request. “Beg pardon?” , . , „ “Sample of left-hand pockets. “B-e-g pardon,” and the cierk showed how tall and dignified she could be. Possibly you want me to show you some button holes, needle eyes or invisible perforations for embroidery.” “No I think not. I recall none of those as on the list. I’m acting for my wife you know. Charming woman, but so unpractical. Thinks that the house must he attended to, no matter what becomes of the shopping. You have no left-hand pockets ?” “No pockets of any kind- Possibly you wanted the opening to the pocket or a pump for inflating Uie pocket/ _ and the several clerks who hud gathered! around looked at everything but the customer. “It might be. I confess that I’m a little uncertain as to just what my wife did ask me to get. Come to think of it, I have a list. Forget all about it ; ‘butter, vegetables, oysters, sweet peta—ah! here it is, ‘sample, left-hand pocket, two yards.” , „ , , , , „ “Then feel in your left-hand pocket, laughed the clerk, and all the other clerks laughed. . _ He did. There was a sample of narrow ribbon. The combined talent of the clerks matched it, and the customer wondered why they all beamed so benignly on him. A MORMON MIRACLE. A good l story relating to Joseph Smith, the notorious arch-Mormon, has recently come to light, and it is exceedingly welcome, if only for the fact that it shows how that rank imposter, in trying to impose upon credulous people, was imposed upon himself. How the great “prophet” was tricked is told in something like the following fashion. A certain individual, Dan Rice bv name, a man who had considerable circus renown in the States during the last generation, knew Joseph Smith very intimately when the latter, surrounded by his deluded followers, occupied the Mormon city of Nauvoo. One day Smith called upon Rice, and! began to speak to him in evident concern. “Dan/’ he said, “I am sorry to find that the people are becoming exceedingly restless. There is l no doubt whatever that we must give them a miracle, and that will be hound to settle them. The liver is muddy; I want you to go on the quiet and build a sort of platform, which you must manage to get down to the river and anchor not more than a foot below the surface of the water. Then I will go down and walk upcn the water.” Rice went and fixed the platform all right, only that about twelve feet from shore he omitted a couple of planks from the erection. Smith walked the water in “miraculous” style until he came to the part of the platform where the planks •were out; then he went down most ignominiously, and the “miracle” was smashed to atoms. FEAT OF AN AMATEUR. “Yes, looking for a saddle horse,” admitted the warehouseman who was just hack from his vacation. “I was raised among horses, you might say. I never boast, but I guess that I can ride anything that ever looked through a bridle. Just back from visiting an old chum that grew up next door to me. Has a great stock farm. Broke in a three-year-old colt for him while I was there.” “Any trouble?” . „ J , “Not a bit. Tied up his front leg and be fell so as to throw me through a corn crib. Didln’t hurt. Old man came along and said I ought to be ashamed to cripple a horse in order to ride him, so I let the leg down. I scrambled on and _ he jumped before I was ready. That time I went through the top of a peach tree. Never felt it. Next trip me and the colt went down the road as though there were fireworks in his tail. He stopped unexpectedly and I went over a wire fence into a ploughed field. I tore my trousers and rinned the tops of my shoes,

isn' t another amateur rider in the country could do that. My bead, ploughed through three furrows, but I didn’t mind it any more than a dive into the river.” “Got back on the colt, I suppose?” “No, my chum.said I was a little overweight, so he put a young fellow on and he stuck as if lie had to. I like to see a colt have some sort of a show. The boy tired the critter out and I insisted on one more mount. You can bet that colt knew his master. He was tame as a sheep. I’d have ridden him, you know, if he'd broke my neck. Now, what I want is something quick and devilish in horse-flesh. I’ll tame him-’’ SLUM MANNERS. At a tea recently given to the street waifs of London, one of the young ladies who was attending on the needs of the hungry feasters noticed that one cf the lads was not eating anything, so, going across to where he was, sue said; “My boy, you are not‘eating anything. Will you have some more bread-and-but-ter ?” “No,” was the answer she got. So, thinking, to make him remember his manners, she said : “No, what, my lad?” . Then she got another surprise, tor this time his answer was , “No blessed fear; not while theres plum kerke knocking about. I’m just a-werting till that big plerte comes along. Look slippy, Curley, and shove it over here; I feel peckish.” And he was. "ONLY THE PARROT. The peculiar charm of parrots is that when they do mischief it is generally amusing mischief, something that yields a good story. Probably the chemist who figures in a recent anecdote is even prouder of his pet than he was before the pet alienated a customer. The parrot is large and green, alert to hear, and prompt to prove that he remembers. His cage hangs near the telephone, with the result that Polly has become quite proficient in “telephone talk,’” and furnishes much amusement to customers who have time to stop and listen. The other day a stylishly-dressecl young woman came rushing into the shop and asked permission to use the ’phone. The man of drugs pointed to the rear, and she started in that direction. The place was rather dark, and when she hoard someone apparently talking into the receiver, she seated herself to wait. “Hulloa, Central —holloa, holloa —yes, give me four-dcuble-eight. Yes—hulloa ; who is that? Oh, yes; what? yes; halloa, I say; no, I didn’t get that; is that so ? well, good-bye ; ring cff ; halloa, Central, halloa, halloa, give me ” and so on, and so on, through several repetitions. Then the young woman rose, and advanced with a stately air to the assistant, and asked if he thought “that person” intended to use the telephone all day. “Why, that’s only the parrot. He—” But the shop door had slammed before he could finish his sentence. TRUE TILL DEATH. “The time has come for me to speak,” he said, going over to the mantelpiece and leaning his head abstractedly against the cold, hard marble. “My dear, before we are married, and while there is yet time to pause, my conscience bids me tell you about myself. I have deceived vou. I am not the noble-hearted, unselfish, refined and altogether desirable man you have been led! to believe. I have decived you even about my age. Not only am I 40 instead of 34, but I am a widower. I stay out late at night when I feel like it. I smoke all over the house, am particular about my meals, find fault all the time, hector the servants, never go anywhere to oblige any one else, drink more than I ought to, swear regularly, and, in fact, am a vulgar, disagreeable, gruff, inhospitable, irritable, inconsiderate, insufferable nuisance.” “Tell me,” said the fair creature he addressed, repressing with a conscious look of pride an inward shudder, “you own the house and grounds that you showed me, don’t you ?” “I do.” “And the beautiful Government bonds you asked me to look at, the 500 shares of D.A.8.,the200X.Y.Z., the4oo U.P.W. debentures, and four acres in the heart of the business district are all yours, aren't they ?” , “They are, dearest.” “Then,” said the undismayed and still radiant creature by his side, “my darling, with all your faults, I love you still.’' GUILTY, NEVERTHELESS. This was one cf Daniel O’Connell’s stories. Some years ago, while attending the Clonmel Assizes, I witnessed a trial which I shall never forget. A wretched man was charged with the murder of his neighbour. The evidence was running strong against the prisoner. In fact it was the strongest case of circumstantial evidence I have ever met with. As a matter of form —for of his guilt there was no doubt —the prisoner was called on for his defence. He called to the amazement of the whole court —the murdered man. And the murdered man came forward. The case was clear; the prisoner was

was unnecessary to charge them. Yet they requested permission to retire. They returned to court in about two hours, when the foreman, with a long face handed in a verdict of guilty! Every one was astonished. “Good God!” cried the Judge, “of what is he guilty ? Not of murder, surely ?” “No, my Lord,” replied the foreman, “but if he didn’t murder the man, shure he stole me gray mare three years ago.” THE RULING PASSION. Mr Brown was a very rich merchant but was extremely superstitious. He had three intimate friends, Mr Eager, a Protestant; Mr Savage, a Catholic; and Mr Goldsmith, a Jew. One day Mr Brown became very ill and summoned his three friends to his bedside. He said to them, “I have always been afraid to go into the other world without money, so knowing that you three are such good' friends that you will obey my dying request, I shall exact from you a promise that each of you will put £IOO in my coffin before it is closed. In return, I shall leave my entire fortune to be divided between you three.” All eagerly promised to carry out his instructions. Shortly afterwards he died. Mr Eager, the Protestant, came, and according to his promise put £IOO ill the coffin, After he left Mr Savage, the Catholic, came and. put in another £IOO. Lastly came Mr Goldsmith, the Jew. Just as he was about to put in the £IOO, a thought struck him. He drew out the .£2OO which had been previously put in the coffin, placed’ it in his pocket and, writing cut a cheque for £3OO, payable to Mr Brown, against him (Goldsmith’s) account in a certain hank, but it beside the dead body of his' friend and went on his way rejoicing. OVERREACHED HIMSELF. This is a true story; it comes from Cornwall. A gentleman of considerable property made his will in favour of a clergyman who was his most intimate friend, and committed it, unknown to the rest of his family, to the care of the divine. However, not long before he died, having changed) his mind with regard to the disposal of his effects, lie made another will wherein he left the clergyman only £SOO, and the rest of his fortune to his nephew. Soon after the old gentleman’s death his nephew, rummaging over his drawers, happened to find this last will, and perceiving the legacy of £SOO in it for the clergyman, without any hesitation or scruples of conscience, put it in the fire, and took possession of the whole estate, in consequence of having supposed that his uncle had died intestate. The clergyman coming to town soon after, and inquiring into the circumstances of his old friend’s death, asked if he had made any will before he died, and being answered in the negative, very coolly put his hand into his pocket, and pulled out the former will, which had been committed to his care, wherein the uncle bequeathed to him his whole fortune, amounting to several thousand pounds, excepting a legacy of £SOO to his nephew.