Anecdotes and Sketches.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XVLI, Issue 10, 6 September 1911, Page 71

Anecdotes and Sketches.

GRAVE, GAY, EPIGRAMMATIC AND OTHERWISE.

Her Turn. /C\ OBERT W- CHAMBERS,_the popular novelist, was talking to a reI A porter about the artistic tern, \ perament. 1 have little patience with the artistic temperament,” Mr. Chambers said. “Its -ynonym is selfishness. Mrs- Words"■m was right. Mr. Chambers smiled. I poet Wordsworth,” he resumed, “11-ci l . to compose in bed at night. Nudging 1c- wife in the small hours, he would say: . '"Miria, get up. I’ve thought of a, good .ord.’ “Ai Mrs. Wordsworth would rise sleep,;v. light a candle, and write at her husband’s dictation for ten or fifteen nmiutcs. "A couple of hours later Wordsworth would wake her again. , t up, Maria. I’ve got a good ’ord,’ he would repeat. "But one night Mrs. Wordsworth put 3 stop forever to this nocturnal dictaiimi. Her husband, awakening her with the u<ual ‘Get up—l've thought of a -"'d '.lord,’ was startled to hear her reply: t’h. get up yourself! I’ve thought a bad word.’ ” The Porter First. H"' lone bandit was about to enter “le ’■in |>illg-car. - ■ ■ ” S‘ l *tand back,” eried the furious porter, infiontiug him with a magazine-.gun in ’‘."'h hand. ”1 haven’t gone through P , * l * B « n B<W myself yet!” , , IsmV 1 ? 0 impotent rage the villain threw himself from the

Up Against It. “Tn the days of the ancient drama,” said the pedantic person, “performances were given in the open air.” “What a discouragement that must have been,’’ replied Miss Cayenne, “to the man who insists on going out of the theatre to get a breath of fresh air.*’ ® <s> The Politician and the Cot-bed. A Western politician tells the following story as illustrating the inconveniences attached to campaigning in certain sections of the country. Upon his arrival at one of the small towns in »South Dakota, where he was to make a speech the following day, he found that the so-walled hotel was crowded to the doors. Not having telegraphed for accommodation, the politician discovered that he would have to make shift as best he •could. Accordingly, he was obliged for that night to sleep on a wire cot which had only some blankets and a sheet on it. As the politician is an extremely fat man. he found liis improvised bed anything but com tortable. “How’ did you sleep? ’ asked a frien I in the morning. - “Fairly well,’’ answered the fat mart, •‘but 1 looked like a walHe when 1 got up.” - -

Precocious Baby. A professor of the University of Pennsylvania, who has greatly endeared himself to the students on account of his kind-heartedness, nas one particular failing—that- of absent-mindedness. He visited his married nephew a few days ago and had listened to the young wife's praises of her first-born. The gentleman felt that he must say something to give the impression that he was interested. “Can tne dear little fellojr walk?” he inquired quietly. “Walk?’’ shouted the mother. r ‘\Vhy he has been walking for five months!” “Dear me!” exclaimed tin* professor, lapsing again into abstraction. “What a long way he must have got!” <s>' ■•> Her Little Knowledge. The lady was reading a nautical novel. She struggled along bravely lor a few minutes, but linallv had to appeal to her husband. “(Jerald,” she said, “the author says that the boat was sailing ‘wing and wing.' ’ What does that mean? I’ve been on a yacht, but 1 never heard that before.” “That means. - ’ answered Gerald, rejoicing in the fact that he, too, had spent* several hours on a sailing vessel, “that means that the schooner had her mains'l out to port and her fores 1 out to starboard—or viie versa.” “().• I see!” cried the lady. “It's just like a chicken—a wing on each side. And now 1 understand why they call those little sails in the middle ‘j’ds*.’ It's short for ‘giblets' of course. Jsn t sailing interest inti!”

Try This. “Oh yes,” Mrs. Smith told us, “iny husband is an eiil husiast'.\* archaeologist. And I never knew it till yesterday. L found in his disk some queer looking tickets with tin- inscription ‘Mudhorse. S to I.' Ami when I asked him what they w<Te. he explained to me that they were reins of a lost race, l-n't it interesting?’ Censure and Curiosity. “Mr. Johnson.” -ays Mr. Higgles. ‘ don't want to hint your fetding, but that story you started to till at my hou-e la-1 night was one no gentleman of r<* fim-ment would have t<dd in mixed company. I feel that it is m\ duty to express mv disapproval o! such conduct.’ “I'm quite soriy." -ays Mr. Johnson. “I should hive thought before beginning it. Halfway through I realized what I was telling, and. you remember. I did mv best to eml tin t ting at omc. “Yes, I noticed it fell put tv Hat. and everybody could that vou v \v<ie terribly ashapied. L> bow does the story finish. Johnson? How He Judged. “I love vou more than anybodv in tin' world.” she whispen-l. as she sat on hubby's knee, her lips < 10-e to hi- ear. “Don't add hyponisy to unfaithfulness” he ic-pnmlcd -terilly. pushing her away. “Why. what do vmi mean, dear?” jiskvd, ready to cry. “A on care more for some other man than you foi me! was the bitter lesponse. “I don't know his name, imt I think he is a < himM“au" ••You must hup-.1.-ar. 1’" ' n>c call a H' r f""’ was white with anxiety, nail th*' •••:«•■*> "<•*'•■ falling Lot a- -h.- >tnite.l for the telephone. "No. Sit down, anil explain if yon .an. You. wear a lo'L *'f ">.V hair in your locket juat one little lock?’ M Vea.” "And the entire queue of aoine Chui* man on your head I*