"Well, really, Mr. Brown, I am not aware that I have any."

"W-which hand d-do you stir y-your tea with?"

"The right hand, of course."

"W-well, that is y-your p-peculiarity; most p-people u-use a t-teaspoon."

The second course of the table d'hote was being served.

"What is this leathery stuff?" demanded the corpulent diner.

"That, sir, is filet of sole," replied the waiter.

"Take it away," said the corpulent diner, "and see if you can't get me a nice, tender piece of the upper, with the b.u.t.tons removed."

"Gracious," exclaimed Mr. Swellman, "The baby has eaten a lot of that dog biscuit."

"Never mind, dear," replied Mrs. Swellman. "It just serves Fido right, for he's often stolen the baby's food--haven't you, Fido? 'Oo naughty 'ittle rogue, 'oo!"

Once upon a time there was a young man who felt sure that within his bosom burned the incandescent light of dramatic fire. To a.s.sure the world of this fact he secured a position as supernumerary in a theatrical combination which was presenting a repertoire of cla.s.sical tragedies.

Of course, all great careers have an humble start; so had his. All that was required of him was to come on R. U. E., when the lordly baron was about to take his regal bride to his proud ancestral halls, and inform him, and the audience:

"My lord, the carriage waits."

The leading lady, who played the fair young bride, was rather inclined to embonpoint, as we say when we wish to insinuate as delicately as possible that some one is fat.

The budding genius had rehea.r.s.ed his lines--or line--until he felt that he was letter perfect. He haunted the wings all evening until he heard his cue. Then he strutted onto the scene, struck a tragic pose, and announced excitedly:

"My Lord! She carries weights!"

Frank Stockton tells a fish story. A gentleman asked a question of a boy who was fishing. The boy mumbled an indistinct response. "Why don't you speak plainly?" said the gentleman. "What have you in your mouth?"

"Wums--wums for bait," answered the boy.

"That was the first instance I ever knew," remarked Mr. Stockton in telling the story, "of anybody really speaking with baited breath."

Smith--"Did you ever see a woman trying to pull a cork out of a bottle, colonel?"

Col. Drinker--"No, suh; and no gentleman will stand idly by and see a lady struggling to take a cork out of a bottle. It takes her too long, suh?"

Wife--"We have been married twelve years, and not once during that time have I missed baking you a cake for your birthday. Have I dear?"

Hubby--"No, my pet I look back upon those cakes as milestones in my life."

Jones--"You don't usually say grace at meals?"

Bones--"No; only when the minister is present."

Jones--"Ah, I see. He not alone graces the occasion, but he occasions the grace."

Doctor--"My dear young lady, you are drinking unfiltered water, which swarms with animal organisms. You should have it boiled; that will kill them."

Patient--"Well, doctor, I think I'd sooner be an aquarium than a cemetery."

A tiny girl of seven gave a dinner party the other day, for which twelve covers were laid, and that number of small maidens sat down to dine. It was a real little girl's dinner, and the little hostess herself presided, sitting at the head of the table. She had been very anxious, in looking forward to it, to do everything as it should be done.

"Mamma," she asked, "shall we say grace?"

"No," said mamma, "it will be a very informal dinner, and I think you need not do that."

That meant one less ceremony to be gone through, and was a relief, but the little lady was anxious to have all her small guests understand it.

So, as they were gathered about the table, she explained:

"Mamma says this is such an infernal dinner that we need not have grace today."

Three different waiters at a hotel asked a prim, precise little man at dinner if he would have soup. A little annoyed, he said to the last waiter who asked the question:

"Is it compulsory?"

"No, sir," said the waiter. "I think it's mock turtle."

Mistress--"Now, remember, Bridget, the Joneses are coming for dinner tonight."

Cook--"Leave it to me, mum. I'll do me worst! They'll never trouble yez again!"