Anecdotes and Sketches

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XLII, Issue 19, 12 May 1909, Page 71

Anecdotes and Sketches

A Childless Fatnre, 6 7 S’ QCGRDING to Profe or Walter g | F. Wileox, the birth-rate per J 1,000 has decreased by 152, from 1860 to 1900, or an average of about 30 in a decade. This means, says the Professor, that at the same rate in a century and a-half there would be no children left. The prospect of being without any children in a century and a-half is not alluring, even though we have such a considerable time to wait. It is probable that we could make ether arrangements in our factories and mines, so that in this respect we would not suffer so materially as if the change came more suddenly. But if there were no children, there would be no mothers’ meetings; for while mothers’ meetings are usually conducted by those who have no children of their own, still the main object is to give advice to those who have. Also, there would naturally be no educational system. How, then, would so many people be able to earn a living, who arc now making good money by creating new fads for the children to grow up on? Not only this, but the absence of children would make it increasingly difficult for us to find any one to whom we could lie judiciously and systematically. At present the writing of textbooks is a considerable industry in itself, furnishing a means of livelihood to thousands who might otherwise perish. But if there were no children to swallow the statements made in text-books, this industry would have to go by the board.

Rossetti’s Ham and Eggs, Mr. George Meredith contributes an interesting little sidelight on Rossetti to a collection of notes on the poet which appear in the “English Review.” He denies the statement, first of all, that he left Rossetti’s house because the appearance of ham and eggs on the poet’s breakfast plate “was too muc-h for one.” “What I must have said to some friend,” he said, “was that Rossetti’s habits were ominous for his health, and I mentioned the plate of thick ham and fried eggs, taken at once on the descent from his bedroom. “I ventured to speak to him of the walk of at least a mile before this trying meal. But he disliked physical exercise, and he was wilful, though he could join in a laugh at his ways. “The main point is that he came down with a head full of his work, Shd, not to be disturbed during the day, he chose a dish that would sustain him through it. “The system could not continue for long, of which I had the sorrowful prognostic. Devotion to his work in contempt of our nature killed him.” 4 4 4 Enjoying Himself. "You eay Henpeck is enjoying himself this summer?” “Yes; he had his wife made several phonograph records of her voice before she went away.” “Gee! I wouldn’t think he would en-J joy hearing her talk all the time while she is away!” “He doesn't hear her talk; he starts the phonograph going, and then he interrupts and talks louder than it does, then he kicks over the table, tumbles the chairs round, and finally goes out and •lame the door and leaves it talking.”

Fair Warning. It was in a Scotch village, a Scotch village of a very primitive type, and an English family, with a motor car, came to stay there for the summer. All the English family, including the old lady, who was very deaf, and used an cartrumpet, attended kirk on the first Sabbath. The congregation stared at the ear-trumpet such a thing never having been seen there before. At last the precentor rose to the occasion. He went clown the aisle, looked severely at the eld lady, and said: — “The first toot and ye’re oot!”

Kind-hearted Old Gent: “What’s the matter, my little man?” The Little Man: "1, boo hoo! lost my kite last week, and your face reminds me of it.”

An Inference. “Pa,” said Bobbie, “kin I go a fishin’?” “No, you can t,” retorted the old gentleman from behind his newspaper. I’a use. "Fa, kin I go in swimmin’!” "I’ve told you no several times alrca dy.” Pause. “Buy, ma, kin I go out and play with the hose?” "No, Bobbie; you’ll get yourself soaked,” replied his mother. Pause. "Ma, kin I go acrost to Willie Smith’s for a little while?” “No, my son, you can’t. Willie Smith is not a fit companion for a boy like you.” Pause. "Pa, kin I cut the pictures out o’ the Sunday papers?” "No, sirrcc, you can't. I’m not going to have this house littered up with scraps of paper.” Pause. "Ma, kin I ” "No, Bobbie, you can’t! Don’t make me have to tell you that again.” Pause. “Say, pa, is this a prohibition province 4 t 4 Dear Nurse. Tompkins had suffered terribly, and at one time it appeared that his illness might have a fatal termination. But skilful doctors and a pretty nurse tended him most carefully, and the crisis was successfully passed. The pretty nurse was Tompkins’ one ray of sunshine during his weary hours, and he fell desperately in love with her. “Nurse Edith,” he said one day, “will you be my wife when 1 recover?” "Certainly!” replied the consoler of suffering humanity. "Then my hopes are realised. You do really love me?” queried the anxious Tompkins. The pretty nurse stanimere’d. "Oh. no,” she said; "that’s merely part of the treatment. I must keep my patients cheerful. I promised this morning to run away with a man who has lost both his legs.”