Anecdotes and Sketches

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XLII, Issue 1, 6 January 1909, Page 45

Anecdotes and Sketches

PRINCE BUELOW AND THE PRES-?. Prince Buelow told some amusing stories of his relations with newspapers iu the course of his reply to a speech at a garden party given by him to a Press Congress in Berlin. When a young Charge d'Affaires at Athens, he said, be read in the "Neue I'reie Press’’: — "Prince Bismarck must be indeed a master of diplomacy if he can make good all the blunders which the German Charge d’Affaires at Athens now commits. Even his face is as simple as that of a Number 5 of a gun team. ’ Prince Buelow explained that this is a man who has nothing to do. In the beginning of the eighties, he s':id. when he was at the Paris Embassy, being melancholy because promotion was slow, he asked M. de Blowitz what prospects he would have in journalism. M. de Blowitz replied, "I will instantly get you a position at £1,200 a year. ’ The Chancellor declared that there were a few politicians who did not wish the Press to speak well of them. “After all,” bp asked, "what would Achilles, and Hector have been without Homer? ‘‘Great is the power of the Press in our days. It can spread rumours, awake ideas, evoke views, and found convictions which nothing can dissipate for years after. Few people realise that this is a new apparition in the history of the world of civilisation.” ♦ + ♦ THOUGHT IT MIGHT BE RITE. A man addicted to walking in his sleep went to bed all right one night, but when he awoke he found himself on the street in the grasp of a policeman. "Hold on,” he cried, "you mustn’t arrest me. I'm a somnambulist.” To which the policeman replied, “I don’t care what your religion is—yer can’t walk the streets in yer night shirt.’* ♦ ♦ ♦ EXPRESSIVE. Senator Dolliver, nf lowa, recently made a speech in Philadelphia to hankers. He had been warned to Jet politics alone, and began his speech with a reference to that fact. “I’ve been warned,” be said, "not to talk politics, but I assure you that the warning was superfluous. I’ve had all the politics that 1 want—for a while. I’m saturated with them

In fact, I never knew but one person who had so much of anything as I’ve had of politics. That was a Des Moines girl who came East for the summer and went to Atlantic City for the months of July and August. Brought up so far inland, she. naturally started out with a hankering for sea-food, but she had completely satisfied that when she stopped in New York on her way home. She was there taken out to dinner by her fiance, who suggested, as if by inspiration, ‘Shall we begin with some clams?’ ‘Clams?’ cried the summer girl. ‘Don’t say clams to me. I have paten so many lately I rise and fall with the tide.’ ” ♦ ♦ ♦ OUR LANGUAGE IS SO EXPLICIT ! The tradesman had rendered his bill, waited a mouth, and then wrote: "Please, sir. i want my bill.” Back came the bill with these words: "Certainly, here it is.” The bill was returned, and in a month the tradesman again wrote: “Kindly send me the amount of my bill.” And the answer came promptly and politely: "Certainly; it is 104.26 dols.” The thirl month the tradesman again wrote: "Will you send me a cheque for the amount of my bill?” The answer came with a Blank unsigned cheque: "Certainly; here is the cheque, I have kept the amount of your bill.” The fourth month the tradesman wrote: "I want my bill paid.” And the answer came back: "So do I.” Then the tradesman gave it up. ♦ ♦ ♦ THE FORGED NAME. It was the same old story; a negro up for chicken stealing. But "Uncle Eben” did not give tbe trembling "No, *ah, ah ueber d-d-done it.” He rose to the situation. "What have you to say for yourself?” snapped the magistrate. “Well, sah,” the old veteran began, "it was like dis heah: De larder were clear empty. 1 says to myself, ‘Brudder Eben, yo ’got to make a raid.’ Den I goes an’ gits a piece ob paper an’ I makes out. a deed which reads: ‘De so-called pro’ty, de hen-oop ob de raach ob de said

Thoma* belongs to a certain Eben Era*tu» Jone* fo’ de said stated tune ob fifteen minils. De owner hereby s'render* all right ob title, claim an’ ownership for that time. >igned an* swared to ’fore a full moon. di» day ob al! day*.' An’ den 1 signs it : 1 JOSEPH THOMAS. 2 E. E E. JONES. "Den. jest a* I was racin' off wid d? sebeu hens—bang! an’ a bucket ob >hnt took out de aide oh mail coat an’ knocked dat deed all to de drbil. \ es. *ah scratching hi* head in recollection—"dat accident pint* a mo’al. a mighty big mo’al.” "What was that?” the magistrate asked. "it teaches, sah, dat a fo’ged name won't stick, nowhah.” The magistrate looked solemn, then said: "I gueM well have to let you off thia one more time.” ♦ 4 ♦ HUSBANDS. Husbands are largely manufactured out of the raw material grown on farms and outlying district*. There are some few city varieties, but they are jujor in quality. The farm output is usually taken to the city early in life, and fed on rum, tobacco, and business until he becomes fat enough to kill for the matrimonial market. He is then led out to the slaughter and used thereafter as a basis for millinery ami dress goods. Husbands form one of our chief assets. They are patient, docile under treatment, become enured early in life to hard labour, ami are useful at dinner parties and political gathering--. Ihe Home variety differs from the foreign breeds in many important particulars. He is more easily domesticated and stands any amount of abuse without complaint. There are several instances on record whore husbands have slept night after night in pyjamas, mad? by their wives and starched under their personal supervision, without murmuring. They have even be?n known, in rare instances, to attend church regularly. There are several kinds of husbands. The early morning variety is very companionable, but short-lived. In some households the silent husband is the main feature, acquiring this great gift by long practice. The literary husband, as a rule, is thin and poor, and has his fur rubbed off iu spot* and lay* his ears well back. The best- husbands are caught young, when their spirits can be easily broken. ♦ ♦ ♦ AT THE SEANCE. Mr Harkaway. after much sol.*-!• avion, was persuaded to attend a spiritualistic seance. His friend, who believed iu mediums, assured him that the present presiding genius of the spiritualistic par lours was by no means a fraud, and that he would see many very wonderful manifestations. Prompted by sheer curiosity, Harkaway, though a man of fifty odd years, and ra;ther set in his prejudices, consented to go along, and. as had been promised, the medium was found to be in great form, and many were the marvels that, under the unbeliever's eye. were performed there. Harkaway's incredulity showed in his face so strongly. ho\vever. that the medium was piqued to a more convincing exhibition, and sudfjeniv he grew rigid, 'stared tensely into the depths of ‘space, and clutched Harkaway. excitedly by the arm. "Do not move!" he whispered hoarsely. “We are about to have a communication. A graceful forni is bending over you. It stretches out its hands affectionately, and strokes your hair. It is a woman. Whau ap. extraordinary likeness!”

Harkaway shifted uneasily iu his seat. Again »he pat* your hea<i tenderi\, and *i|fh*, <mi strive* to *p*snk." Hark awuy - hive red slightly, and crossed hi* Bervow, ‘ ! y. "It ** your mother, *»r. Mlid th* medium. ‘line.” Harkaway. -Go ahead.” "She j* -tniling. and wiahe* me tu tell you that *he i* happ\.‘* said the medium. "She kn«>Wn i.o ear?*, ha* no worries, and is waiting patiently and happily there for you. ’ "Dear, dear mother!" ejaculated Harkaway. ->hc say* that it will not Ik* long before you nw-et again, and bid* you Im* prepgfod for the .-summon*.'’ "Tell her that I am ready,” said Hark away. "She wishes to know if you have any other mes>age for her?” "\♦••.'* »aid ilarkawav. "Tell her that I am *orr> to say that I forgot to stop at th? grocer'* on the way down town this morning, so if .-he want* those pickle* for dinner to-night -he would better M-nd a messenger l>oy for them, ou aright add that if I don’t get home until late, -he needn’t worry. My friend Bink-, who brought me down here, ought to blow m? to a dinner after this. Ami. -ay, just ask the old lady to leave the latch-key under the mat. will you?” But the medium had vanished. ami nof even an aura remained. "Harper’s Weekly.” IN DOUBT. The story is told of an enthusiastic, but inexpert, beginner who invited a friend who had never seen golf played, to follow him round the course. On the first tee the golfer, after many waggle*, smote mightily and —missed the ball. Again he >wung his club and again created only an atmospheric disturbance. After a third attempt, his friend was moved to ex< latui: "Alan, it's grand exercise, but what do vou use the wee ball for ?” ♦ > ♦ FISHIN'. Riding across the country onp day, Dr. Blank noticed an old negro who had been lor quite a while perched motionless upon a little bridge, fishing silently in the stream beneath. For some time he watched him from a distance, but finally, overcome l.\ the old fellow’s unmoved patifnee, he rode up and accosted him. "Hello, Wish! What are you doing up there?" “Fi.-hin’. *ah,” came the reply. "Not getting many, are you?” ‘No. *ah.” "Well, it .--peins to me you’d get tired fishing .-o long without a bite.” "I doesn't want no bite, cap’n." "Well, that's funny. Why don’t you want a bite. Wash?” "Hits thi> a-way, cap’n; when I git* a lot of bites. Lit takes all meh time to git the fish off'n meh line, an’ I doesn’t have no time foh fishin’.” ♦ 4BERNARD SHAW AT A MUSICALE. Bernard sha\v, who is not overfond of music, happened to be beguiled to a musicale given by a prominent London society woman, who, during the evening, found the author sitting disconsolate and bored in a corner of the room. "Now, really, Air. Shaw,” said the hostess, "don’t you think this orchestra play* beautifully? These men have been playing together for eleven years.” "Eleven years?” repeated Shaw. ‘‘Haven’t we fjeen here longer than that?”