Anecdotes and Sketches

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XLII, Issue 26, 30 June 1909, Page 71

Anecdotes and Sketches

Grave and Gay, Epigrammatic and Otherwise.

A Lofty Style. ©F the two celebrated barristers, Balfour and Erskine, the former’s style was gorgeously verbose, while the latter’s, on the contrary, was crisp and vigorous. Coming into court one day, Erskine noticed that Balfour’s ankle was bandaged. “Why, what’s the matter?” asked Erskine. Instead of replying “ 1 fell from a gate,” Balfour answered in his usual roundabout way: “ I was taking a romantic ramble in my brother’s garden,” he said, “and on coming to a gate I discovered that I had to climb over it, by which I came into contact with the first •bar, and grazed the epidermis of my leg, •which has caused a slight extravasation of the blood.” “ You may thank your lucky stars,” replied Erskine, “ that your brother’s gate was not as lofty as your style, or you. would have broken your neck.”

All That Was Left.

A Boston lawyer named Ames was retained as counsel for a man who stepped in a hole in the street and broke his leg. Suit was brought against the city in the sum of one thousand dollars, and Ames won the case. The city appealed to the supreme court, but here, also, the verdict was in favour of Ames’s client. After settling up the claim, Ames handed his client a silver dollar. “What is this for?” asked the man. “ That is what is left after taking out my fee, the cost of appeal, and other expenses.” The man regarded the dollar a moment, then looked at Ames. “What is the matter With this? ” he asked. “Is it badF

Snake Yarns. Morrissey, the snake man, put in an appearance at a Sydney newspaper office the other day, and, while the reporters climbed up the walls, and took refuge on the window-sills, he hauled serpents out of his clothes and spread them all over the sanctum. They say that one well-known Sydney bard who put his nose in at the door turned and fled downstairs, and never stopped running till the arrived at an inebriates’ retreat five miles away. Newspaper men are much

“And I’m sure, gen’l’men, that it’sh shinshere wish iv ivery friendsh here thateh present thish evenin’, that the name of our honourable candidate will be hounded downsh to poehterity as longsh he liven,”

more temperate than they used to be. There was a time when such a display would have broken up the whole staff. Once a practical joker sent two small snakes in a collar-box to the editor of a Sydney weekly. In three minutes every member of the staff was out on the roof, and the next issue of the journal contained a libellous attack on the rum sold in a neighbouring hotel. After ages and ages of strenuous effort it gets right down to a Victorian State school teacher to tell the boss snake yarn. He says: I was giving some of my lads in a Goulburn Valley school a halfhour’s Nature study. The subject was tiger snakes. From the literature supplied 'by the department I read:—“That a killed snake does not really die or stop contorting until after sundown is a fallacy. Snakes killed and thrown into cool, shady places, may ‘wriggle some’ for hours; but kill a snake and expose it to the heat of the sun, and inside a quarter of an hour it will be as stiff as a gate-post.” “Were you aware of that fact, boj’s?” I asked casually. “Yes, sir, answered one of them, “we’ve known it since we were so high. We lay justdead snakes out in a circle, sir, stuffing their tails into their mouths, and when they stiffen use them for hoops.” There ought to be a future for that teacher or that boy-—in a place where flames are frequent and ice creams are unknown.

A Good Alibi. Several years ago the late Sir Francis Lockwood got a prisoner off by proving an alibi. Some time afterward the judge met him and said: “ Well, Lockwood, that was a very good alibi.” “ Yes, my lord,” was the answer; “I had three offered me, and I think I selected the best.” * * * Not So Dusty. While a German resident was driving an English friend from Frankfort to Homburg, a motor-car passed at a terrific pace, raising a cloud of dust. “Ah!” said the German, “There goes our Emperor.” “How do you know?” inquired the Englishman. “Do you suppose anybody else could raise a dust like that?” ■was the reply.

A Famous Pedigree. The calf which the stoekraiser had. taken the summer resident to see surveyed his owner and the stranger with a wary eye. “Er—what breed is your calf?” asked the visitor. The farmer removed a wisp of straw from his mouth and said: "This critter’s father gored a justice of the peace, knocked a lightning rod agent end over end, and lifted a tramp over a picket fence; and as for his mother, she chased the whole brass band out o’ town last Fourth of July. If that ain’t breed enough to pay six dollars for, you can leave him be. I’m not pressing him on anybody.” ♦ ♦ ♦ Red Man s Sarcasm. Doctor Whipple, long Bishop of Jfinnesota, was about to hold religious services at an Indian village in one of the Western States, and before going to the place of meeting asked the chief, who was his host, whether it was safe for him to leave his effects in the lodge. “ Plenty safe,” grunted the red man. “No white "sat in hundred miles from here.” A Virtue. Enthusiastic owners find merits that motor-ear manufacturers dare not claim. >A young lady once showed* a friend proudly a very cheap, very light car that she had just bought. "Awfully light, isn't it?” said the triend. “Yes,” said she. “Isn’t it splendid? Whenever it breaks down we can always push it home.” Giddy Melbourne. Melbourne spends more money on amusements than any other city in Australia, or for that mat ■ter any city of its size in the world. When the King’s Theatre was built, people shook their heads and eaid there would not be sufficient patron* to go round, but they were wrong, and now Mr. J. T. West, w’ho has made a pot of money out of moving pictures, in erecting another at a cost of £OOOO t* hold 4000 people not far from Olympic on St. Kilda-road.