Anecdotes and Sketches.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XLIII, Issue 11, 15 September 1909, Page 71

Anecdotes and Sketches.

Grave ana Gay, Epigrammatic and Otherwise.

Her “ Grace.” O 7 F CERTAIN duchess was renownf | ed, both for her exquisite toil--1 ettes and her slowness in paying for the same. One creditor, after being repeatedly refused admittance to the ducal palace, sent her small daughter with a bill. The child was carefully instructed as to her deportment, the mother’s parting admonition being: “And when you address the duchess -be sure and say ‘Your Grace.’ ” The child promised, and hurried to the palace, where she easily gained an audience. Presenting the bill to her Graee, she folded her hands as if asking a blessing, aud said: “For what we are about to receive, Lord, make us duly thankful.” The bill was paid. <s►<&<> A Steady Flow. A truly eloquent parson had been preaching for an hour or so on the immortality of the soul. “ I look at the mountains,” he declaimed, “ and cannot help thinking, ‘Beautiful as you are, you will be destroyed, wliile my soul will not.’ I- gazed upon the ocean and cried, ‘ Mighty as you are, you will eventually dry up, but not I! ’” <£><s><s> The Caustic Caddie. President Taft plays golf fairly well, but on his return from Cuba, away back in his career, he did not make a good impression on the links. After some pretty bad work on the first two holes, he said apologetically to his caddy, a stranger from the East: “ I’m certainly out of form to-day. I’ve been on a sea-voyage, you see. It must have upset me.” Played before, have ye J" aaid the caddy.

Poor Judgment. The Paris critic, Martin, once only had taken his chocolate in a place other than the Cafe Foy, and he then found it not good. This happened at the Regence, and the young woman at the desk, to whom he expressed his displeasure, said: “You are the only one to complain. All the gentlemen of the court who come here find it good.” “ They also say, perhaps, that you are pretty,” he replied, slowly. <£■ <•> Poor John. A Philadelphian who was formerly a resident of a -town in the north of Pennsylvania recently visited his old home. “What became of the Hoover family,” he asked an old friend. “Oh,” answered the latter, “Tom Hoover did very well. Got to be an actor out Weeti Bill, the other brother, is something of an artist in New York; and Mary, the sister, is doing literary work. But John never amounted to much. It took ail he could lay his hands on to support the others.” <S> <J> <S> A Reason for Everything. According to the story, widely believed throughout Islam, a dog approached Allah while the latter was engaged in the construction of Eve, and seizing the rib which the Almighty had just taken from Adam’s side, ran off with it. Allah, it is said, followed in hot pursuit, and managed to grasp the tail, which the dog had neglected to tuck away. The tail remained in Allah’s hands, the dog eseaping with the rib. Allah thereupon, faute de mieux, utilised the dog’s tail instead of Adam’s rib for the construction of the mother of mankind, and it is owing to this, according to the Arabs, that woman is just as incapable of remaining quiet and motionless for two minutes together as is the tail of a dog.

No Blessed Pigeon. For the first time the old lady was about to make a railway journey in England, and when she arrived at the station she did not know what to do. “Young man,” she said to a porter, who looked about as old as Methusalah, “can you tell me where I can get my ticket?” “Why, mum,” he replied, “you get it at the booking office, through the pigeon hole.” Being very stout, she looked at the hole in amazement, and then she burst out in a rage: “Go away with you! How can I get through there? I aint no blessed pigeon.”

“Thot’s a very foony place to be takin’ yer aise, Hogan. Aren’t yez cowld?” “Oi t'ink Oi am, but Oi’m not. Oi've become a Christian Scientist.” “But wuddent yez.be more comfortable on the bank?” “Thot’s the divil uv it, Flaherty; Oi’d t’iuk Oi wuz, but Oi wuddent be I”

The Fate of Wagner. At a London dinner years ago, and now described in a book of recollections, Edward King, the author, was most enthusiastic in his praise of Wagner, not only as a musician, but as a poet. “I have no doubt,” he said, at length, “that in coming time Wagner will be ranked above Beethoven and Schiller.” “I quite agree with you,” responded L. Alma Tadema, the famous painter, “for certainly Wagner was a greater musician than Schiller and a greater poet than Beethoven.” <S> <3> <S> Getting Even. A young man late one cold and wintry night, found the door of his college locked against him. The young man outside argued with the doorkeeper inside, cajoled, and entreated, but to no avail. Eventually he slipped half a sovereign under the door and was admitted. It was a financial deal wisely thought out on strict business lines. Once inside, he informed the janitor (falsely) that unfortunately, after taking the half-sovereign out of his purse, he had dropped the purse itself on the doorstep. The attendant went out to secure it, but once on the chilly, wet doorstep, the door was slammed. Then the deal was repeated, for the shivering mercenary was not allowed into his warm abode until he had slipped the half-sovereign back again. «■<?>«• Worse Than the Others. There was a certain Bishop of Amiens, who was consulted by a lady as to whether she might wear rouge. She had been with several dirccteurs, but some could not satisfy her conscience, and therefore, was come to • monseigneur to decide for her, and would rest by his sentence. “I see, madame,” said the good prelate, “what the case is; some of your casuists forbid rouge totally; others will permit you to wear as much as you please. Now. for my part, I love a medium in all things, and, therefore, I permit you to wear rouge on one cheek only.”