Little Masterpieces of American Wit and Humor, Volume II
General
Little Masterpieces of American Wit and Humor, Volume II
American wit and humor
Secretary Chase was not originally a profane man. He learned how to
swear after he went into Lincoln's Cabinet. One day, after he had
delivered himself vigorously, Lincoln said to him:
"Mr. Chase, are you an Episcopalian?"
"Why do you ask?" was the somewhat surprised counter-question.
"Oh, just out of curiosity," replied Lincoln. "Seward is an
Episcopalian, and I had noticed that you and he swore in much the same
manner."
* * * * *
_Family Physician_: "Well, I congratulate you."
_Patient_ (excitedly): "I will recover?"
_Family Physician_: "Not exactly, but--well, after consultation, we
find that your disease is entirely novel, and if the autopsy should
demonstrate that fact we have decided to name it after you."
AN INSURANCE AGENT'S STORY
"Oh, I guess we have our experiences," laughed the fire insurance
agent. "We are just like others who have to deal with all kinds of
people.
"Take the smart Alecs, for instance. They give us a whirl once in
awhile, but we generally manage to get as good as a draw with them. It
was only last fall that one of them came in and wanted me to insure his
coal pile. Of course I caught on at once, but I made out his policy
and took his money. In the spring he came around with a broad grin on
his face and told me that the coal had been burned--in the furnace,
of course. I solemnly informed him that we must decline to settle the
loss. He said he would sue. I told him to blaze away, and I would have
him arrested as an incendiary. That straightened his face out, and it
cost him a tidy little supper for a dozen of us just to insure our
silence.
"One shrewd old chap had grown rich out of our company, and when he
had built an elegant new store and stocked it with goods he came to
us again for insurance. I refused him, but he was persistent, and I
finally assented on condition that he hang a gross of hand-grenades
in the place. After I had seen them properly distributed, I sent an
old chum of his up to get the real lay of the land, for I was still
suspicious. This is what the cronies said to each other:
"'What is them things, Ike?'
"'Hand-grenades.'
"'What's hand-grenades?'
"'I don't know what was in 'em at first, but they're full of kerosene
oil now.'
"We canceled the policy."
* * * * *
A girl from town is staying with some country cousins who live at a
farm. On the night of her arrival she finds, to her mortification, that
she is ignorant of all sorts of things connected with farm life which
to her country cousins are matters of every-day knowledge. She fancies
they seem amused at her ignorance.
At breakfast the following morning she sees on the table a dish of fine
honey, whereupon she thinks she has found an opportunity of retrieving
her humiliating experience of the night before, and of showing her
country cousins that she knows something of country life after all. So,
looking at the dish of honey, she says carelessly:
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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