Anecdotes and Sketches.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XLVI, Issue 2, 11 January 1911, Page 71

Anecdotes and Sketches.

GRAVE, GAY, EPIGRAMMATIC AND OTHERWISE.

Sounded Eike a Warning. ZTX RS. JONES’ favourite warning fl IB to her young progeny when I Z they were in mischief was / that she would tend to them in a minute. “Tending” was accomplished by applying her open hand where it would do the most good. When Harry was four years old he was sent for the first time round the corner to the grocery. In a few minutes he came trotting soberly back with the nickel still in his hand, but no bag of onions. “What’s the. matter?” asked his mother. “I’m ’fraid of the man,” he said, solemnly. ~ ' “Oil. he won’t hurt you,” reassured Mrs. Jones. “Run along and bring the onions. I’m in a hurry for them.” A second time Harry disappeared round the corner, and a second time returned without his purchase. “I’m afraid of the grocer man,” he explained, as before. “Well, what makes you afraid of him?” demanded his mother, impatiently. “Why,” answered the little fellow, “bofe times when I goed in he looked at me and said: ‘l’ll tend to you in a minute.’ ” • <J> <S> <S> The Spot Spread. “I don’t know whether to accept this testimonial or not,” mused the hair restorer man. i “What’s the matter with it?” demanded the advertising manager. : "Well,” exclaimed the boss, “the man ♦rites: ‘I used to have three bald spots on the top of my head, but since using tone Jbottlle of hyir restorer W Mve only one.’ " • - ▼ - -

The Villain Still Pursued Her. Channing Pollock cites, a certain melodrama,, produced a few years ago as containing the busiest and most inconsistent villain ever created. In the first act he tied the beautiful heroine to a, railroad track just as the limited was due. In the second he lured her into an old house, locked her in an upper room and set the place on lire. In the third he strapped her under a buzz saw and set the machinery in motion. In the fourth he tore the planking out of a bridge, so that her automobile plunged through to the raging flood below. , In the fifth act he started to make love to her. She shrank from him. “ Why do you fear me, Nellie,” ho asked. • ' - . <s> <?> <3> General Strike Against T. F. The best yarn in Mrs. O’Connor’s book is that where T. P. and Tom Page slept together in a room at an hotel at Stalheim, in Norway. Mrs. T. P. had to visit the room for some medicine, and,*needless to say, each of the two great men

was tucked up in his little bed, with the candle alight-’ on a table between them. “Why,” asked Mrs. T. P., “has the candle been left burning?” “Because,” grumbled Tom Page, “T. P. was too darned lazy to blow it out. After this we must all strike against waiting on him.” Of course, Mrs. O’Connor knows, or at last has met, nearly everyone worth knowing, and if the hero of the anecdote be distinguished, she cares not if the sting is turned against herself. Cardinal Manning once sentenced her to millions of years of extra purgatory, because, as he put it, “you know how to be good, and you are not good, and those are tlie people who suffer the most.” Again, the wit of Oscar Wilde -was keen as well as kind. At breakfast once, Nirs. T. P. gaily remarked that T. P. did not know a pretty woman when he saw one. “I beg to differ,” said Harold Frederic, “what about yourself?” “Oh, I was an accident,” retorted Mrs T. P. “Rather,” said Oscar Wilde, “a catastrophe.” <s>«s><s> Abraham's Predicament. The Sunday-school class had reached the part in the lesson where “Abraham entertained' the angel unaware.” “And what now is the meaning of ‘unaware’?” asked the teacher. There was a bashful silence; then the smallest girl in the class piped up, “Un‘erware is what Nott takes off before you puts on your nightie.”

Why Barbara Sobbed. Four-year-old Barbara went to church with her two sinters, and came home crying. “What is the matter, dear?” inquiry her mother. “Up preached a whole s sermon—about M-Mary and Martha,” sobbed Barbara “and—never said—a—w-wor 1 about me! ’’ <•> <®> A Quaker Girl's “ Yes.” A young Quaker had been for some time casting diffident glances at a maiden of the same persuasion, while she, true to the tenets of her up bringing, had given him mighty little encouragement. However, one day the opportunity of placing the matter upon a more stable footing represented itself to Seth, am) he shyly inquired: “Martha, dost thou love me?” " “Why, Seth, we are commanded to love one another,” quoth the maiden. “Ah, Martha, but does thou fee] whal the world calls love?” “I hardly know what to tell thee. Setji. I have tried to l>estow my love upon all f but I have sometimes thought that thou w.ist getting more than thy share.” s><s>«> His Opportunity. “How did you manage to go through every house on that block in broad daylight without being detected?” asked one burgla r. “Very easily,-*’ replied the other. “I selected a time when a moving van drove up to a vacant dwelling. I work ed while the neighbours were hangiit. out of the front windows criticising tla» furniture.” Necessary Haste. A passenger train started to go fas. all at once, and an old lady asked the conductor the cause of the sudden and great speed. “Well, you see, ma’am.” explained the conductor, “there is a rotten bridge just ahead and we want to get over it before it breaks dowi>”