“It’s got a whole heap to do wid it. W’en the sergeant put me yere to-night he p’intedly sez to me dat ef somebody comes by w’ich is a stranger to me I is to cry ‘Halt!’ th’ee times an’ den shoot ’im.” § 355 The Limit of Helplessness Only too often does the average after-dinner speaker reach a point where he has nothing to say and yet feels that he must say it. Usually he does, too,—at great length. I know, because in my time, before I reformed, I was addicted to the vice of after-dinner speaking myself. To those offenders who still persist in their wicked ways of trying to be humorous to order across the dinner table, without having the proper materials in stock, I respectfully would recommend the following highly illustrative little anecdote: A New England husbandman was driving up a steep hill with a load of provender and gardening implements in his motor truck. In a rough place on the grade the tail-gate slipped from its catches and, item by item, the cargo spilled out. The farmer steered along oblivious of his losses. He reached the crest of the hill, coasted down into the valley, and there, in a miry place, he stuck fast. He climbed down from his seat, and then, for the first time realizing the full depth of his misfortune he exclaimed to himself: “Stuck, gol darn it! Stuck in the mud—and nothin’ to unload!” § 356 The Most Unkindest Cut of All On the stage of a music hall in the East End of London a memory wizard with a pronounced Cockney accent was offering an exhibition of his skill. In response to questions from the audience he gave, off-hand, and promptly, the dates of historic events, the distance from the earth to the moon, and other facts and figures without limit. It was quite evident from the language of some of his statements that the performer was a most patriotic Briton. Invariably, when mentioning a great Englishman or a great English achievement, his voice rose exultantly. Sitting well down in front were two Americans. They figured that the wizard must have accomplices in the house to ask him questions prepared beforehand. To find out whether or not the performer did have the powers of memory he boasted and with a view also to arousing his patriotic fervor to a still higher pitch if possible, one of the Yankees called out: “Professor, please tell me what memorable event occurred on July the Fourth, 1776?” Without a moment’s hesitation the professor shot back his reply: “A h’infernal h’outrage, sir!” he shouted. § 357 The Position of a Young Man