“You can’t have it without chocolate flavor,” answered the soda-jerker. “Because we ain’t got no chocolate. You’ll have to take it without vanilly!” § 194 The Fate of Poor Harry A cockney music-hall performer, to a congenial group of performers in London, was describing what had happened the night before to a brother actor whom he spoke of affectionately as “’Arry.” “Poor old ’Arry, ’e ’ad a most awful time. They wouldn’t even let ’im finish. Before ’e was ’arf through with the first verse of ’is opening song they began giving ’im the rarsberry proper. And w’en ’e quit, them blokes in the gallery ’issed ’im right off the stage. They ’issed and ’issed and kept on ’issing even after ’e was out of sight. Right after ’im I ’ad to go on.” “How did your act go?” inquired one of the listeners. “’Ow, I got over fine,” said the modest vaudevillian. “But right in the middle of my act they starts ’issing ’Arry again.” § 195 A Wholesale Order The late Sam Davis, editor of the Carson _Appeal_, was known as the Oracle of the Nevada sage-brush. Once upon a time he was instructed by the San Francisco _Examiner_ to meet Mme. Sarah Bernhardt at Reno and bring her over the mountains of California on her first tour of the Western Slope. Davis was a most likable person. The great French actress became so fond of him that thereafter she declined to be interviewed by any other newspaperman during her sojourn on the Coast. If she had anything to say for publication, he said it for her. The day came when the train bearing her private car was about to start on the long journey back East. As the locomotive bell was ringing, she put her hands upon his shoulders, kissed him upon either cheek, and then squarely upon the mouth, remarking, as she did so, “The right cheek for the Carson _Appeal_, the left for the _Examiner_, the lips, my friend, for yourself.” “Madam,” said Davis, without the slightest sign of bashfulness, “I also represent the Associated Press, which serves 380 papers west of the Mississippi River.” § 196 This “Yes” and That “Yes” A distinguished French diplomat lately put into a few words what I think is the best possible explanation yet offered as a reason for the failure of his countrymen to perceive what our national attitude is, touching on the post-war issues which so deeply concern France and, by the same token, the failure of our countrymen to make out what the people of France want and what they are striving for. “To begin with,” said the distinguished visitor, “the two races speak separate languages—always a bar to the adjustment of contrary points of view. But even where you find a Frenchman who speaks your tongue or an American who speaks mine, there still remains an obstacle. “For example: “When you set forth a proposition to an American and he says ‘Yes,’ he means, ‘I’ll do it.’