It does not matter, to the American people, from where humor comes, so it really is humorous and has a point to it. We will take it in any shape or dialect. One of the great successes of humorous literature during the civil war was that achieved by Col. Charles G. Halpine, who made a mythical Irish soldier, “Private Miles O’Reilly,” his mouthpiece for a lot of humorous criticisms of the Government, the army and navy. During the same period there arose a Southerner, signing himself “Bill Arp,” who made some hard hits, in humorous style, at the North; somehow they found their way through the lines and were freely reprinted at the North. In later years another Southerner--the creator of “Uncle Remus,” put a lot of delightful stories into negro dialect, and a host of people at once began to quote them. In New York Mr. Julian Ralph wrote a lot of humorous sketches under the general head of “The German Barber,” and the newspaper press began to quote them. Across the ocean Max O’Rell began to satirize the English people and customs, and straightway his books sold better here than abroad. On the stage and platform, as everywhere else, humor is the most popular and attractive feature. A few years ago, before the theatrical companies could easily reach any city or large town, the lecture was a favorite means of entertainment, and more than three hundred Americans and foreigners were busy every winter in hurrying from town to town to deliver lectures. The three hundred have been reduced almost to three, but there is room there still for any one who has anything humorous to say. “Bob” Burdette, more popularly known as “The Burlington _Hawk-eye Man_,” works himself almost to death every winter in going all over the United States to give his humorous recitations. He is a very religious man, and a working Baptist, but people never ask him for a religious address: they always want to hear his fun. Another of the few successful men remaining on the platform is A. P. Burbank, a man who for ten years has determined every year to go upon the stage in legitimate comedy, but so humorous are his recitations and so effective his manner in delivering them that those who have heard him before insist upon hearing him more, and he goes again and again to towns where he has been a dozen times before, each time to find his audience larger and more appreciative, and each time to receive the assurance that they will want him again the following winter. Little Marshal Wilder, who never took a lesson in elocution in his life, and has been cruelly handicapped by nature, attempts merely to make people laugh; he succeeds, so he seldom is allowed to have an evening to himself, and when the “platform” season is ended here goes over to England and has three or four engagements a night.