Newspaper Page Text
THE ATLANTIAN
19
water until it cooled, after which he
slaked his thirst. Then Artemus add
ed:
“It’s a shame to spoil a story for re
lation’s sake, or to shield a shirk from
public gaze, so I’m going to tell you all
that the fellow who did this was Char
ley Park, who sits right down here in
the front row.”
Well, there was no more disturb-
Candler Building.
ance from that quarter the rest of the
evening, and Charley laughed as loud
and long as anybody.
Droll About Funerals.
Not infrequently the lecturer’s sto
ries drifted to funerals, and he wrung
many a tear of laughter from unsus
pecting audiences with the most droll
and ludicrous tales upon this somber
subject. One of them, taken from Mr.
Ryder’s narrative, tells of a farmer
whose wife died, and the neighbors
began to come in to express condo
lence and ask if they could help about
the place. But the husband was no
where to be found. They looked in
the house, in the barn and down In
the meadow, but he wasn’t there. At
last one of them went to the well to
get a drink, and there they found him
just emerging from the top of the
hole. Asked what was the trouble,
he replied:
“Nothin’, nothin’ ’tall, only her
dyin’ sort o’ made a broken-up day,
an’ I thought it was ’bout as good a
time as any to fix that durned well."
Of course the neighbors overlooked
this, and one of them asked if there
was anything they could do for him.
He 'lowed there wasn’t, unless the
fellow who spoke was willing to lend
the bereaved man his new, heavy, sil
ver hunting-case watch. Of course
the neighbor accommodated him.
During the funeral the neighbors no
ticed him nervously tugging at the
chain from time to time, looking at
the hands and snapping back the
cover. At last the service was over
and the coffin in the grave. Snap!
The watch was closed and he looked
up with a smile of satisfaction.
“Well, it was just twenty minutes
past 2 when we got her in.”
This story, of course, was always
greeted with roars of laughter, as it
was told in the quaint, drawling style
of the Maine Yankee. As an encore
he told another, much as follows:
In a village where there was no
regular undertaker a death had oc
curred and a coffin was wanted, so a
citizen who was going to the city
was entrusted to secure one. The
fellow was extremely fond of limbur-
ger cheese and couldn’t resist the
temptation to purchase a few pounds.
But to his consternation, the express
agent refused to ship it for him. Be
ing a man of humorous qualities, he
conceived the idea of placing the
cheese in the coffin, which was then
duly shipped. In the* course of the
journey home, the fellow thought he
would stroll up into the “baggage
coach ahead” to see how his posses
sion fared. He found the baggage-
master with his head sticking out one
side door, his face awry, and the cof
fin as far away as it could be placed.
The fellow sensed the situation and
was about to walk back into the
coach when the baggagemaster asked
him:
"Does that belong to you?” point
ing to the coffin.
“Yes,” was the doleful response.
"Any relation?”
"Yes,” still more dolefully; “wife.”
It may be stated, however, that the
joker was a bachelor.
“Well,” responded the innocent
baggagemaster, with certainty, “she
ain’t in no trance!”
Failing Health.
After a tour of lecturing in this
country, Artemus felt his health fail
ing. A brother had already died of
consumption, and fear of this disease
was with Artemus. He went to Eng
land to lecture, and also in the hope
that he might recover, but he grew
worse instead, and died March 6,
1867. But before his death he had in
gratiated himself quite as warmly in
to the affection of the Londoners as
he had won the goodwill of people
at home, in spite of his roughness, and
his dissipated manner of living, which
undoubtedly did much to hasten his
end. He was immensely popular, was
admitted to the exclusive clubs, and
met with favor and friendship gen
erally.
His more important works, written
in his quaint humor and still more
quaint and ridiculous manner of spell
ing, are collected under the titles:
“Artemus Ward, His Book”; "Arte
mus Ward, His Travels”; “Artemus
Ward in London,” published between
1865 and the time he died.
PRUITT’S BIRTHDAY PRES
ENT.
It isn’t everybody who can give a
birthday present like William E. Ber
ner gave to John Pruitt, colored, a
couple of days ago, says the Indian
apolis News.
"Union Made"
SHOES
We are re
ceiving daily
the best and
latest styles
in Men Shoes
all leathers
black or tan
either for
dress wear or
hard service.
Give us a trial and you will al
ways be a customer. : : :
6 PEACHTREE ST. ATLANTA, GA.
Berner is the marriage license clerk
at the country clerk’s office, and as
such he encounters all kinds of queer
situations. The other day Pruitt came
ir to get a license to wed Eliza Clink-
enbeard. Before a license can be pro
cured nowadays one must answer in
writing all kinds of foolish questions,
among them being the date of birth.
Pruitt scratched his head when ask
ed his natal day. “Pact is, Ah don’t
know,” he said.
“Don’t you know how old you are?”
Berner asked.
“Not for sure. Somewheres near 40,
i guess.”
“Haven’t you a birthday?”
"Never had a birthday.”
“Well, I will make you a present of
a birthday right now,” said Berner.
"Everybody should have a birthday.
You are 40 years old and you were
born on the Fourth of July.” And
Berner wrote down on the marriage
license papers that way.
“Now, remember,” said Berner,
when Pruitt started to leave. "You
were born on the Fourth of July and
you mustn’t forget to celebrate when
your birthday comes around.”
“I won’t,” said Pruitt, highly pleased.
IN READINESS.
VERY SIMPLE.
A rather simple-looking lad halted
before a blacksmith’s shop on his
way home from school and eyed the
doings of the proprietor with much
interest.
The brawny smith, dissatisfied with
the boy’s curiosity, held a piece of
red-hot iron suddenly under the young
ster’s nose, hoping to make him beat
a hasty retreat
“If you’ll give me half a dollar I’ll
lick it,” said the lad.
The smith took from his pocket half
a dollar and held it out
The simple-looking youngster took
the coin, licked it, dropped it in his
pocket and slowly walked away whist
ling.
ALWAYS THE WAY.
Mrs. Hen, having performed her
oviparous function, took a constitu
tional around the yard. Returning to
her nest she found it empty and
clucked angrily.
“What’s the trouble, ma’am?” ask
ed the rooster.
“It’s mighty funny,” she grumbled,
"that I can never find things where I
lay them.”
They might not need me,
Yet they might;
I’ll let my heart be
Just in sight.
A smile so small
As mine might be
Precisely their
Necessity.
—Emily Dickinson.
INEQUALITIES OF SCIENCE
(From the Houston Post.)
A Chicago phrenologist says La Fol-
lette’s bumps indicate that he will be
president La Follette never had half
the bumps that Bryan has experienced,
and yet nobody is predicting that the
Nebraskan will be president.