Anecdotes and Sketches.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XLVI, Issue 12, 22 March 1911, Page 71

Anecdotes and Sketches.

GRAVE, GAY, EPIGRAMMATIC AND OTHERWISE.

Without the Sting, 67T CHINESE editor, in rejecting a f I manuscript submitted, thus a J wrote to the author: “We have 4 read your MS, with infinite delight. By the sacred ashes of our ancestors, we swear that we have never read such a splendid piece of writing. But if we printed it, His Majesty the Em-, peror, our most high and most mighty ruler, would order us to take this as a model, and never print anything inferior.' As this wouldi not be possible in less than a thousand years, we, with great regret, return the divine MS., and ask a thousand pardons.”

Tired Of It. After some ages bad elapsed, developing all sorts of problems, womankind approached the Gods with a large package of something or other. “What have you there!” demanded the Gods sharply”, for they suspected a trick. “It is the sum of genius which our emancipation iia's enabled us to develop!’ repied womenkind. “And what, pray, do you wish to do with it?” “We wish to trade it off for real eha rm!” “Hum! Of course you can’t e.vpeet to get much real charm in exchange for even so large a quantity of genius.” “Oh. no! We shall be satisfied with a Ydry little real charm. In fact, we are so disgusted with genius and its wretched fruits that we shall probably have no more of it in the future, anyway!” ' Here womenkind gave their package a vicious little kick to indicate their disappointment and chagrin.

Pertinent. It is taking some tune for the Hood •of stories anent the discovery of the North Pole to sweep past. Along comes this belated one from old Kentucky: The owner of a plantation said to a favourite darky: “Mose, they’ve discovered the North Pole.” “’Deed!” exclaimed the old negro. “Where at?”

Tire Gallant Playwright. A pretty story of Miss Ellen Terry and a gallant young playwright has gone the rounds of the Players’ Club. Miss Terry attended in New York the first night of this playwright’s latest work, and at the end of the third act he was presented to

her. She congratulated him' warmly. “It is very good,” she said. ’’Your play is very good indeed, and I shall send all my American friends to see it.” “In that ease,” said the playwright, with a very low and courtly bow, “my little piece will sell 90,000,000 tickets.”

Ambitious. <- Clerk: “If you please, sir, I shall have to ask you to excuse me for the rest of the day. I have just heard of—er—an addition to my family.” Employer: "Is that so, Penfold’ What is it—.boy or girl?” Clerk: “Well, sir, the fact is—er- ——” (soitiewhat embarrassed) “it’s two boys.” Employer: “Twins, eh? Young man, Tin afraid you are putting on too many heirs.” ;

No Cause for Complaint. Eugene Walter, the playwright, told at a dinner a story about a New York critic. “He is very brilliant,” Mr. Walter said. “As he and 1 were taking supper at the Cafe Martin one night a passing playwright glared terribly at

him. ’Why is Playwright Dash so down on me, I wonder?’ said the critic. ‘Oh,’ said 1. with a laugh, ‘you know well enough why he's ilyiwn on you. You wrote last month that the plot of his now play was no good.’ ‘ Well.’ said the critic. ‘ why should he mind that? 1 said at the time it wasn’t Iris plot.’”

The Wrong Man. Some spiritualists were at one time very anxious to persuade Hie fqipous novelist Charles Dickens to become a Spiritualist. He was on one occasion induced to attend a seance, so that he might be converted to their cult. He was asked whose spirit he would most like to appear, and he said at once, “Lindley Murray.” In due course they informed him that the famous master ot grammar was in the' room. Dickens asked, “Are you Lindley Murray?” and the “spirit” answered “I arc!” All hope of making Charles Dickens a spirit ualist was gone from that moment.

Could be Trusted. The late Lord Young, of the Scottish Bench, was responsible for enlivening many a dull ease. One of the best remarks that ever fell from his lips was the reply to a counsel who urg'd on behalf of a plaintiff of somewhat bibulous appearance: “My client, my lord,ds a most respectable man. and holds a ver.v responsible position; lie is manager of some w a terw orks.” After a long look the .judge answered; " Y es. ho looks like a man who could !■•- trusted with any amount of water.” “That horse ot yours looks poor, Patsy," said the stranger as he slowly mounted a jaunting-car in dear, dirty Dublin, ‘Arrnh, yer honour, not poor, but onlucky he is.” “Cnlueky! How’s that?” ’J'is like this, yer hoilour. EvSy mornin-* I toss whether he has a feed o’ corn or 1 have n glmjp‘:<£ whisky. Arp, begoit 'tis he has lost for five mornin’u ruuuiu’l” . ..