Some More Anecdotes.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXIII, Issue XXI, 18 November 1899, Page 925

Some More Anecdotes.

A little while ago a woman went into a grocer’s shop and said: I want two dozen eggs, but they must all be laid by black hens.” ,'T would glad I v oblige you, madam." said the oroeer, “but 1 don't know the eggs of a black hen from those of a speckled or white one.” "I can tell you in a moment,” she said. “ Ihen perhaps you would be so good as to pick them out for yourself . Sue did so, and when the etggs were counted into her basket the grocer remarked: “Lt seems to me that the black hens lay all the biggest eggs. “Yes, she replied, “that is how you know them.”

' The following story is told of an undergraduate of Trinity College, Dublin. One night, being engaged to ■attend a supper being given by some friends in the college, he unfoTtunatelv did not reach the gate till -five minutes past ten. (After ten no student could enter or leave the college.) The young man, however, rang the bell; and to him appeared the vision of an under-porter’s face reconnoitering through the peep hole; of course refusing admittance and remarking: “It’s as much as my place is worth, Air B , to let you in.” To him, B„ persuasively: "Will a .sovereign do it?” The temptation was too great.

“Well Mr B ,” said the Janitor, “slip it under the gate.” The coin duly appearing, the gate was gently opened, but no sooner was B inside than, seizing the unfortunate porter by the collar, he hurled him into the street and barred him out. “Oh. Mr B ,” he cried, “for heaven’s sake let me in, sir—it's as jnuch as my place is worth!”

To him, B, master of the situation from within: “A sovereign will do it; £lip it under the gate.”

A small boy who is not familiar with rural ways was taken by his fond mamma for a brief stay in the country. On a. farm he waxed fat and sunburnt, and picked a wondrous store of astonishing experiences. One day the farmer smilingly said to his mother: “Just ask your boy what he hid two eggs in the stable for." So at the first opportunity the mother said to the six-year-old: “My dear, what did you do with those eggs you took from the. hen house?” “Oh, mamma,” replied the boy. “I didn't

want you to know- about it.” “Why; it’s all right.” said mamma, “I only Want to know what my boy did with them.” “I hid them in the stable,” said _the little fellow. “And what for?” “’Cause it's my scheme.” “Your scheme? And what is your scheme?” “Why, you see, mamma,” said the little philosopher, “when eggs is borned in a chicken house they is always chickens, an’ I fink if they were borned in a stable day might be little horses!” It is needless to add that up to the time of his leaving the farm the miracle was still unaccomplished.

Children are very observing, and sometimes have (for others) inconveniently g-ood memories. It is said that a. mother was talking to her children on subjects connected with the catechism, and among other questions asked.

"Can either of you mention some act of returning good for evil?” One of the younger children said, “Maybe I do not remember that, but I know of once, when, I think, somebody returned evil for good.” “When was flint, dear?” said her mother, “Why, when papa kissed Mary” (the waiter girl), “she slapped his face—but not very hard, mamma!” The happy family gathering was just then somewhat disturbed.