Best Short Stories by Various

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"My dear, let us pay cash for one day."

"How absurd!"

"It may seem so, but you must admit that it is a brand-new idea, and
therefore worth while for you, as a modern woman, to try."

This was the only possible way in which the astute Mr. Dobson could have
persuaded his wife to try his ideas. They both agreed, and he gave her a
hundred dollars in bright, new bills. Taking the same amount himself, he
began his day.

It would be easily possible for us to make a story out of this by
recording the incidents of that day. But they would be too painful for
modern readers, who insist upon being amused. Sufficient is it to
observe that at night the Dobsons met each other face to face.

"I have been grossly insulted by four people," said Mrs. Dobson, who
looked very much the worse for wear. "By a saleswoman in a department
store, my milliner, my shoemaker, and my glovemaker. I offered them all
cash, and it will take years to reinstate myself with them again."

"I got in wrong with my haberdasher and my hatter," said Dobson, "and
then quit for the day. I didn't have the courage to attempt to buy
anything more. Your people, by the way, sent collectors to collect last
month's bills. Also, I calculated this afternoon that if we should pay
cash for everything, it would cost me twice my income."

"How much does it cost now?"

"I don't know--that's the strange part of it. But, my dear, isn't it
worthwhile to learn something, even by making such a mistake?"

At this point Mrs. Dobson, who had been softly shedding tears, braced up
and impulsively put her arms about her erring husband's neck.

"Never mind, dear," she said, "we must face this together. We are
probably ruined, but we are both comparatively young, and we will live
it down side by side."

TOO MUCH

In these days of the conservation of fuel no wonder a certain gentleman
was disturbed.

"You've made a mistake in your paper," said this indignant man, entering
the editorial sanctum of a daily paper. "I was one of the competitors
at that athletic match yesterday, and you have called me 'the well-known
light-weight champion.'"

"Well, aren't you?" inquired the editor.

"No, I'm nothing of the kind, and it's confoundedly awkward, because I'm
in the coal business."

MISTAKEN IDENTITY?

A kindergarten teacher entering a street-car saw a gentleman whose face
seemed familiar, and she said, "Good evening!"

He seemed somewhat surprised, and she soon realized that she had spoken
to a stranger. Much confused, she explained: "When I first saw you I
thought you were the father of two of my children."

THIS HAPPENED IN CHICAGO

Some time after the Civil War James Russell Lowell was asked to go to
Chicago to deliver a political speech upholding the Republican Party. It
was a great occasion, for Russell was easily the foremost literary and
political figure of the day, and his coming was widely advertised. But
at the last moment, just before the address was to be delivered, for
certain political reasons it was deemed inexpedient by the managers of
the affair to have Russell talk politics, and so a hurried announcement
was made that Mr. Russell, instead of speaking on the issues of the day,
would deliver his celebrated lecture on Shakespeare. This he did, it
having been correctly described by critics as the best lecture on the
great poet ever delivered.

After the lecture was over, however, one of the Chicago politicians, who
doubtless had never heard of Shakespeare, was in his disappointment led
to exclaim:

"Hum! I suppose he thought anything was good enough for us!"

HAD HEARD HIM BEFORE

The critical instinct grows by what it is fed upon. No matter how well
you may do, some people are never satisfied and this is especially true
in families.

A Philadelphia divine was entertaining a couple of clergymen from New
York at dinner. The guests spoke in praise of a sermon their host had
delivered the Sunday before. The host's son was at the table, and one of
the New York clergymen said to him: "My lad, what did you think of your
father's sermon?"

"I guess it was very good," said the boy, "but there were three mighty
fine places where he could have stopped."

HER DOMESTIC INSTINCTS

We must not always look down upon those innocent people who may not have
had the same cultural influences we have had, although it is some
difficult not to smile at their point of view:

Sir Frederick Kenyon, the Director of the British Museum and a man of
great knowledge, has had all sorts of funny experiences with visitors
there.

Once he was showing a distinguished lady visitor some of the priceless
treasures of which he is the custodian, but for a long time nothing
seemed to interest her very much.

Then suddenly he noticed a change. Her face lighted up and she leaned
forward.

"What is it, madam?" asked Sir Frederick, gratified at this tardy sign
of awakening appreciation. "Pray do not hesitate to ask if there is
anything you would like to know."

"So good of you!" chirruped the lady. "I wish you would tell me what
brand of blacklead you use on those iron ventilators that are let into
the floor. We have the same sort of things at my house, but my maids
never get them to shine half so brilliantly."

LAST RESORT

Anybody who, a stranger, has tried to find his way about Boston will
understand the experience of Mr. Hubb, a native who was addressed by his
friend Mr. Penn, from Philadelphia.

"They say," remarked Mr. Penn, "the streets in Boston are frightfully
crooked."

"They are," replied Mr. Hubb. "Why, do you know, when I first went there
I could hardly find my way around."

"That must be embarrassing."

"It is. The first week I was there I wanted to get rid of an old cat we
had, and my wife got me to take it to the river a mile away."

"And you lost the cat all right?"

"Lost nothing! I never would have found my way home if I hadn't followed
the cat!"

LOOKED THAT WAY

Doris was radiant over a recent addition to the family, and rushed out
of the house to tell the news to a passing neighbor.

"Oh, you don't know what we've got upstairs."

"What is it?" the neighbor asked.

"A new baby brother," said Doris, and she watched very closely the
effect of her announcement.

"You don't say so," the neighbor exclaimed. "Is he going to stay?"

"I think so," said Doris. "He's got his things off."

COMRADES

In a trench over in Flanders, during a slight lull in the engagement, a
soldier was making an impromptu toilet. He lowered his head for an
instant and thereby caught a cootie. As he did so, a shell fragment flew
by, just where his head had been. He held the cootie in hand
meditatively for a moment, and then said:

"Old fellow, Oi cawnt give you the Victoria Cross, but I can put you
back!"

COMPARISON

One of the ladies who first introduced interpretative dancing--whatever
that is--into this country has fleshened up considerably since the days
of her initial terpsichorean triumphs among the society folk along the
eastern sea-board. Nevertheless, she continues to give performances to
select audiences of artistic souls.

Not long ago Finley Peter Dunne, the humorist, was lured to one of these
entertainments. The lady, wearing very few clothes, and, as a result of
their lack, looking even plumper than usual, danced in an effect of
moonlight calcium beams.

As Dunne was leaving, one of the patronesses hailed him.

"Oh, Mr. Dunne," she twittered, "how did you enjoy the madame's
dancing?"

"Immensely," said Dunne. "Made me think of Grant's Tomb in love."

"NEXT!"

The wonders of modern science never cease to be of absorbing interest
and even the following story, which is supposed to take place in the
near future, may be more realistic than we now think possible, although
it is rather hard on our good friends the doctors.

"Be seated, sir," said the distinguished practitioner.

The man who had entered the doctor's office a few moments before in
obedience to the invitation sank into a luxurious chair. The doctor
looked at him casually, and, touching an indicator at the side of his
desk, said:

"What a pleasant day."

"Yes, it is."

A nurse appeared at the door.

"Turn on number nine hundred and eleven," said the doctor.

"Very well, sir."

The doctor turned to the patient.

"I heard a most amusing story the other day," he said.

"But--"

"Just a moment. I am quite sure you will be interested in hearing it,"
He told the story.

The patient stirred impatiently in the chair, although the story was
amusing and he laughed at it.

"By the way," he began, looking at his watch.

The doctor got up. He turned off the switch at his desk.

"It is all right, sir. You may go now."

"But I came in to see you about--"

"Yes, the operation has been performed. I should be a little bit careful
for a few days if I were you. Don't play golf or walk excessively."

"You mean to say that--"

"Your appendix has been removed in accordance with your symptoms."

The patient smiled incredulously.

"When did you do it?" he asked.

"While you were sitting there. Perfectly simple. It was absorbed."

"How did you know what was the matter with me?"

"That chair sends a record of your symptoms--in fact, diagnoses your
case completely--to the laboratory. All you needed was to have your
appendix removed, and by turning on number nine hundred and eleven it
was absorbed in three minutes. Nothing strange, sir. Quite usual, I
assure you."

The man got up. His face grew rather pale. He advanced to the desk.

"How much do I owe you?" he asked.

The doctor smiled again.

"That has all been arranged, sir."

"What do you mean?"

"According to the new State law which has just gone into effect, while
you were being operated on your property was transferred to me. Good
morning, sir. Call again."

MR. SUNSHINE AND MR. GLOOM

Changing others over to suit yourself is not always the easiest thing in
the world, although it is often tried. The head of a large firm thought
he would try it, and his experience is related by one of the "boys" in
the office:

The old man--for we always referred to the head of the firm in this
way--called the young fellow in to him one day and said:

"Look here, young man; you've got to be more agreeable. I want everybody
in this place to have a smiling face. If I didn't think you had ability
I would have fired you long ago. Your manners are bad. Make 'em better.
Don't be a grouch."

The young chap didn't seem to take kindly to this advice. The frown on
his face was still there. But he bowed and said:

"All right, sir."

Then the old man--for it was his busy morning--called another young
fellow in and said:

"Look here, young man; I don't want you to be so genial. You're always
telling funny stories around the place and waiting on the girls. Your
sunny smile is all right, but you carry it too far. Why, when you come
around everybody stops work. Get down to business."

"That reminds me, sir," said the young chap--but his employer waved him
off.

"Do as I tell you," he said sternly, "or--"

At the end of another week the old man called them both into his office.

"Neither of you seems to be improving in the way I want. But I have an
idea. I'm going to put your desks next to each other. That ought to do
it. You're both good men, but you lean too far in the opposite
directions. Run away now and act on each other."

At the end of still another week, however, when once more they both
stood in front of him, he betrayed his disappointment.

"It doesn't seem to work," he exclaimed. "What's the matter with you
boys, anyway? I thought my experiment would cure both of you, but it
doesn't seem to work."

Turning to Mr. Sunshine, he said:

"Look here; why hasn't he done you any good?"

Mr. Sunshine beamed and chuckled.

"Well, sir," he said, "I can't help it. Why, that fellow over there
hasn't got a thing in the world to worry him. He isn't married, his
salary is really more than he needs. He has no responsibilities, and if
he should die to-morrow nobody would suffer. But he hasn't got sense
enough to have a good time. He strikes me as being such a joke that it
makes me laugh harder than ever."

Turning to Mr. Gloom, the old man said:

"Well, how about you? Why hasn't this chap done you any good?"

Mr. Gloom looked more sour than ever.

"He hasn't the slightest idea of the problems that confront me," he
said, "or what I suffer. But what really makes me mad is this: He has a
wife and four young children on his hands, on the same salary I get. How
they manage I don't know. It isn't living at all. And when I see a
fellow like that, who ought to be worried to death all the time--and who
would be if he looked the facts squarely in the face--grinning and
telling stories like a minstrel, it makes me so d----d mad that I can't
see straight."

HER OWN

There are certain family privileges which we all guard jealously:

An attorney was consulted by a woman desirous of bringing action against
her husband for a divorce. She related a harrowing tale of the
ill-treatment she had received at his hands. So impressive was her
recital that the lawyer, for a moment, was startled out of his usual
professional composure. "From what you say this man must be a brute of
the worst type!" he exclaimed.

The applicant for divorce arose and, with severe dignity, announced:
"Sir, I shall consult another lawyer. I came here to get advice as to a
divorce, not to hear my husband abused!"

MARK TWAIN ON MILLIONAIRES

At one time in his varied career Mark Twain was not only poor, but he
did not make a practice of associating with millionaires. The paragraph
which follows is taken from an open letter to Commodore Vanderbilt. One
paragraph of the "Open Letter" is worth embalming here:

Poor Vanderbilt! How I pity you: and this is honest. You are an old man,
and ought to have some rest, and yet you have to struggle, and deny
yourself, and rob yourself of restful sleep and peace of mind, because
you need money so badly. I always feel for a man who is so poverty
ridden as you. Don't misunderstand me, Vanderbilt. I know you own
seventy millions: but then you know and I know that it isn't what man
has that constitutes wealth. No--it is to be satisfied with what one
has; that is wealth. As long as one sorely needs a certain additional
amount, that man isn't rich. Seventy times seventy millions can't make
him rich, as long as his poor heart is breaking for more. I am just
about rich enough to buy the least valuable horse in your stable,
perhaps, but I cannot sincerely and honestly take an oath that I need
any more now. And so I am rich. But you, you have got seventy millions
and you need five hundred millions, and are really suffering for it.
Your poverty is something appalling. I tell you truly that I do not
believe I could live twenty-four hours with the awful weight of four
hundred and thirty millions of abject want crushing down upon me. I
should die under it. My soul is so wrought upon by your helpless
pauperism that if you came to me now, I would freely put ten cents in
your tin cup, if you carry one, and say, "God pity you, poor
unfortunate."

A MOVING TALE

Many a young man has succumbed to his environment. The hero of the
following moving tale is no exception:

She was waiting for him at the station. It was two o'clock in the
afternoon, and he had to go back that evening on the midnight train. He
acted like a man in a dream, but, none the less, he appeared to know
precisely what he was about.

As the train drew up the station was crowded. There she was in the
midst of the crowd, smiling and beckoning to him. Without a moment's
hesitation, and before she even realized what was happening, he sprang
forward, put his arms around her, and planted a clinging kiss on her
lips. She blushed intensely and whispered as well as she could:

"Oh, you mustn't!"

He made no reply. His eyes were fixed. Half frightened, she led the way
to the motor car. They got in. He promptly took her hand. She attempted
to motion to him that the chauffeur was in front and could see their
reflection in the glass windshield. He merely threw both arms around her
and almost crushed her, as he kissed her over and over again. Her face
showed surprise and indignation.

"You mustn't! We're not engaged."

"As if that mattered," he muttered, taking another kiss.

The motor car arrived at her home. They got out. They entered the house.
Her mother came forward to receive them. Suddenly, without warning, he
sprang forward and kissed her, throwing his arms about her like a
cyclone. Her mother, attempting to free herself, gasped. This young
man--whom she scarcely knew! The girl herself stared at him in open-eyed
astonishment.

At this moment the maid entered the room. As she stepped forward the
young man caught sight of her. Wasting no time, and before the surprised
mother and daughter could stop him, he had folded the maid in his arms
and kissed her also. She screamed, and finally ran away.

There was an aunt visiting them. This gentle, middle-aged spinster was
dozing in the next room. Aroused by the maid's screams, she hurried into
the room. But no sooner did this remarkable young man visitor see her
than he promptly grabbed her, and covered her face with kisses.

The girl's father all this time had been quietly smoking on the piazza.
Hearing the commotion he hurried also into the room, just in time to see
the spinster lady, almost fainting with terror, tear herself loose.

"He's been kissing every one of us," murmured the girl's mother. "There
must be something the matter with him."

The girl's father caught the young man squarely by the shoulders and
faced him about.

"He kissed me at the station--before everybody!" sobbed the girl. "Then
he kissed mama and the maid and Aunt Jane."

"What is the meaning of this?" said the girl's father, sternly. "How
dare you, sir, abuse our hospitality?"

The young man shuddered. His eyes closed. Still in the clutch of his
host, there was a tragic silence. Then he opened them once more and
gazed feebly about him. He passed his hand wearily over his forehead.

"Forgive me!" he whispered. "It is not my fault. I live in bachelor
quarters in town. My friends had all gone away and there was nothing for
me to do but go to the moving picture shows night after night. I have
been doing this for weeks. In the moving pictures the young man hero
kisses everybody he meets. It's the regular thing--nothing but kissing,
kissing, all the time. My mind has been unhinged by it. Forgive me and
take me to some asylum."

Then he burst into tears, threw his arms about the old gentleman--and
kissed him, and they led the poor wretch away.

HISTORICAL

At a military church service during the South African War some recruits
were listening to the chaplain in church saying, "Let them slay the
Boers as Joshua smote the Egyptians," when a recruit whispered to a
companion:

"Say, Bill, the old bloke is a bit off; doesn't he know it was Kitchener
who swiped the Egyptians?"

MEMORIES

An American lady at Stratford-on-Avon showed even more than the usual
American fervor. She had not recovered when she reached the railway
station, for she remarked to a friend as they walked on the platform:
"To think that it was from this very platform the immortal bard would
depart whenever he journeyed to town!"

ECCLESIASTICAL DUES ENFORCED

"I canna get ower it," a Scotch farmer remarked to his wife. "I put a
twa shillin' piece in the plate at the kirk this morning instead o' ma
usual penny."

The beadle had noticed the mistake, and in silence he allowed the farmer
to miss the plate for twenty-three consecutive Sundays.

On the twenty-fourth Sunday the farmer again ignored the plate, but the
old beadle stretched the ladle in froat of him and, in a loud, tragic
whisper, hoarsely said:

"Your time's up noo, Sandy."

STILL COMPANIONABLE

Jennie, the colored maid, arrived one morning with her head swathed in
bandages--the result of an argument with her hot-tempered spouse.

"Jennie," said her mistress, "your husband treats you outrageously. Why
don't you leave him?"

"Well, I don' 'zactly wants to leave him."

"Hasn't he dragged you the length of the room by your hair?" demanded
her mistress.

"Yas'm, he has done dat."

"Hasn't he choked you into insensibility?"

"Yas'm, he sho has choked me."

"And now doesn't he threaten to split your head with an ax?"

"Yas'm, he has done all dat," agreed Jennie, "but he ain' done nothin'
yet so bad I couldn't live wid him."

AN EASY ADJUSTMENT

Andy Donaldson, a well-known character of Glasgow, lay on his deathbed.

"I canna' leave ye thus, Nancy," the old Scotsman wailed. "Ye're ower
auld to work, an' ye couldna' live in the workhoose. Gin I dee, ye maun
marry anither man, wha'll keep ye in comfort in yer auld age."

"Nay, nay, Andy," answered the good spouse; "I couldna' marry anither
man, fer whit wull I daw wi' twa husbands in heaven?"

Andy pondered over this, but suddenly his face brightened.

"I ha'e it, Nancy!" he cried. "Ye ken auld John Clemmens? He's a kind
man, but he's no' a member o' the kirk. He likes ye, Nancy, an' gin
ye'll marry him, 'twill be a' the same in heaven. John's no' a
Christian, and he's no' likely to get there."

APPRAISED

One morning, Mollie, the colored maid, appeared before her mistress,
carrying, folded in a handkerchief, a five-dollar gold piece and all her
earthly possessions in the way of jewelry.

This package she proffered her mistress, with the request that Miss
Sallie take it for safe keeping.

"Why, Mollie!" exclaimed the mistress in surprise. "Are you going away?"

"Naw'm, I ain' goin' nowheres," Mollie declared. "But me an' Jim Harris
we wuz married this mawnin'. Yas'm, Jim, he's a new nigger in town. You
don' know nothin' 'bout him, Miss Sallie. I don' know nothin' 'bout him
myself. He's er stranger to me."

Miss Sallie glanced severely at the little package of jewelry.

"But, Mollie," she demanded, "don't you trust him?"

"Yas'm," replied Mollie, unruffled. "Cose I trus' him, personally--but
not wid ma valuables."

AN EASY MATTER

How to own your own home is a problem which confronts the great
majority. That it is oftentimes easily solved, however, is revealed by
the following simple experience as related by H.M. Perley in _Life_:

How did we do it? Simply by going without everything we needed. When I
was first married my salary was thirty dollars a month.

My mother-in-law, who lived with us, decided to save enough out of my
salary to build us a home.

When the cellar was finished, I became ill and lost my position, and had
to mortgage the cellar to make my first payment.

Although we went without food for thirty days the first year, we never
missed a monthly payment.

The taxes, interest on mortgage, and monthly payment on house were now
three times the amount of my earnings.

However, by dispensing with the service of a doctor, we lost our father
and mother-in-law, which so reduced our expenses that we were able to
pay for the parlor floor and windows.

In ten years seven of our nine children died, possibly owing to our diet
of excelsior and prunes.

I only mention these little things to show how we were helped in saving
for a home.

I wore the same overcoat for fifteen years, and was then able to build
the front porch, which you see at the right of the front door.

Now, at the age of eighty-seven, my wife and I feel sure we can own our
comfortable little home in about ten years and live a few weeks to enjoy
it.

JEEMS HENRY WAS CONJURED.

"Mars John," excitedly exclaimed Aunt Tildy, as she pantingly rushed
into a fire-engine house, "please, suh, phonograph to de car-cleaners'
semporium an' notify Dan'l to emergrate home diurgently, kaze Jeems
Henry sho' done bin conjured! Doctor Cutter done already distracted two
blood-vultures from his 'pendercitis, an' I lef him now prezaminatin' de
chile's ante-bellum fur de germans ob de neuroplumonia, which ef he's
disinfected wid, dey gotter 'noculate him wid the ice-coldlated
quarantimes--but I b'lieves it's conjuration!"

KEEPING IT IN THE FAMILY

A lady had the misfortune to lose her season ticket for the railway. On
the same evening she had a call from two boys, the elder of whom at once
handed her the lost ticket. The lady, delighted at the prompt return of
her property, offered the boy a shilling for his trouble. The lad
refused to accept it, telling the lady he was a Boy Scout, and that no
member of the Boy Scouts is allowed to accept any return for a service
rendered.

Just as the coin was about to be placed back in the purse of the lady,
the boy, looking up into her face, suddenly blurted out:

"But my wee brither's no' a Scout."

NOT SO DIFFICULT

Sometimes a situation which to the kind of a mind which requires
certainty seems hopeless can be adjusted in the most common-place
manner:

Congressman Charles R. Davis of Minnesota relates that one afternoon a
train on a Western railroad stopped at a small station, when one of the
passengers, in looking over the place, found his gaze fixed upon an
interesting sign. Hurrying to the side of the conductor, he eagerly
inquired: "Do you think that I will have time to get a soda before the
train starts?"

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