Good Stories Reprinted from the Ladies' Home Journal of Philadelphia. Various

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Good Stories Reprinted from the Ladies' Home Journal of Philadelphia - Various

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waiter was gone several minutes, and when he returned his face was a study.

      "Would you please repeat your border, sir?"

      "I said, very distinctly, two eggs—one fried on one side and one on the other."

      Oppressive silence, and then a dazed "Very well, sir."

      This time he was gone longer, and when he returned he said anxiously:

      "Would it be awsking too much, sir, to 'ave you repeat your border, sir? I cawn't think I 'ave it right, sir, y'know."

      "Two eggs," said the American sadly and patiently—"one fried on one side and one on the other."

      More oppressive silence and another and fainter "Very well, sir."

      This time he was gone still longer. When he returned his collar was unbuttoned, his hair disheveled and his face scratched and bleeding. Leaning over the waiting patron he whispered beseechingly:

      "Would you mind tyking boiled heggs, sir? I've 'ad some words with the cook."

      It Was His Only Tie

      One morning, as Mark Twain returned from a neighborhood morning call, sans necktie, his wife met him at the door with the exclamation; "There, Sam, you have been over to the Stowes's again without a necktie! It's really disgraceful the way you neglect your dress!"

      Her husband said nothing, but went up to his room.

      A few minutes later his neighbor—Mrs. S.—was summoned to the door by a messenger, who presented her with a small box neatly done up. She opened it and found a black silk necktie, accompanied by the following note:

      "Here is a necktie. Take it out and look at it. I think I stayed half an hour this morning. At the end of that time will you kindly return it, as it is the only one I have?—MARK TWAIN."

      Playing Doctor BILLY: "Gentlemen, before we begin to operate, if you will hold the patient's hands and feet I'll get that four cents out of his right-hand pocket."

      The Feminine Point of View

      The Willoughbys had said good-by to Mrs. Kent. Then Mr. Willoughby spoke thoughtfully:

      "It was pleasant of her to say that about wishing she could see more of people like us, who are interested in real things, instead of the foolish round of gayety that takes up so much of her time and gives her so little satisfaction, wasn't it?"

      His wife stole a sidewise glance at his gratified face, and a satirical smile crossed her own countenance.

      "Very pleasant, George," she said clearly. "But what I knew she meant, and what she knew that I knew she meant, was that my walking-skirt is an inch too long and my sleeves are old style, and your coat, poor dear, is beginning to look shiny in the back."

      "Why—what—how–" began Mr. Willoughby helplessly; then he shook his head and gave it up.

      He Had Faith in the Doctor

      A young English laborer went to the register's office to record his father's death. The register asked the date of death.

      "Well, father ain't dead yet," was the reply; "but he will be dead before morning, and I thought it would save me another trip if you would put it down now."

      "Oh, that won't do at all," said the register. "Why, your father may be well before morning."

      "Ah, no, he won't," said the young laborer. "Our doctor says he won't, and he knows what he's given father."

      What He Used the Milk For

      A clergyman had been for some time displeased with the quality of milk served him. At length he determined to remonstrate with his milkman for supplying such weak stuff. He began mildly:

      "I've been wanting to see you in regard to the quality of milk with which you are serving me."

      "Yes, sir," uneasily answered the tradesman.

      "I only wanted to say," continued the minister, "that I use the milk for drinking purposes exclusively, and not for christening."

      Nothing if Not Polite

      An interested visitor who was making the final call in the tenement district, rising, said:

      "Well, my good woman, I must go now. Is there anything I can do for you?"

      "No, thank ye, mem," replied the submerged one. "Ye mustn't mind it if I don't return the call, will ye? I haven't any time to go slummm' meself."

      Her Little Game

      As a married couple were walking down one of the main thoroughfares of a city the husband noted the attention which other women obtained from passers-by, and remarked to his better half:

      "Folks never look at you. I wish I had married some one better looking."

      The woman tartly replied: "It's your fault. Do you think a man will stare at me when you're walking with me? You step behind and see whether men don't look at me."

      The husband hung back about a dozen yards, and for the length of the street was surprised to see every man his wife passed stare hard at her and even turn around and look after her.

      "Sure, lassie!" he exclaimed as he rejoined her, "I was wrong and take it back. I'll never say aught about your looks again."

      The wife had made a face at every man she met.

      A Case of Adaptation

      Two dusky small boys were quarreling; one was pouring forth a volume of vituperous epithets, while the other leaned against a fence and calmly contemplated him. When the flow of language was exhausted he said;

      "Are you troo?"

      "Yes."

      "You ain't got nuffin' more to say?"

      "No."

      "Well, all dem tings what you called me you is."

      What Would Happen

      A woman agitator, holding forth on the platform and presenting the greatness other sex, cried out: "Take away woman and what would follow?"

      And from the audience came a clear, male voice: "We would."

      Couldn't Fool Him That Far

      Years ago, when telephones were still a novelty, a farmer came to town one day and called on a lawyer friend of his whom he supplied with butter, and who had had a telephone recently put in his office.

      "Need any butter this morning?" asked the farmer.

      "Well, I don't know," answered the lawyer. "Wait a minute. I'll ask my wife about it."

      After speaking through the 'phone he went on; "No; my wife says no."

      The farmer's face was a study for a moment. Then he broke out with: "Look-a-here, Mr. Lawyer, I may be a 'Rube' and have my whiskers full of hay and hayseed, but I'm not such a big fool as to believe that your

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