Best Short Stories by Various

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WARNING TO AUTHORS

One of Mr. Kipling's trees was injured by a bus, the driver of which was
also landlord of an inn. Kipling wrote this man a letter of complaint,
which the recipient sold to one of his guests for ten shillings. Again
the angry author wrote, this time a more violent letter, which
immediately fetched one pound.

A few days later Kipling called on the landlord and demanded to know why
he had received no answer to his letters.

"Why, I was hoping you would send me a fresh one every day," was the
cool reply. "They pay a great deal better than bus driving."

CONSIDERING FATHER

Does the American woman always consider her lesser half? The following
tale shows that she does, although the lady's husband undoubtedly moved
in a lower sphere. She was at that period in her existence where she
gave literary afternoons and called her college-graduated daughter to
her side and said:

"This afternoon, as I understand, we attend the Current Events Club,
where Miss Spindleshank Corkerly of New York and Washington will give us
her brief and cheery synopsis of the principal world events during the
last month."

"Yes, mother."

"This evening the Birth Control Association meets at Mrs. Mudhaven's,
where I shall read my paper on the Moral Protoplasm."

"Yes, mother."

"To-morrow morning the Efficiency Circle will assemble here for its
weekly discussion and will be addressed by Professor Von Skintime
Closhaven on the Scientific Curtailment of Catnaps."

"Yes, mother."

"To-morrow afternoon the Superwoman's Civic Conference Committee will
take up the subject of the Higher Feminism, and in the evening the
Hygienic Sex Sisters will confer with the superintendent of our school
system on several ideas for our schools which we have in mind."

"Yes, mother. That brings us up to Thursday. What shall we do on that
evening?"

"I thought, my dear, that we would take a night off and go to the movies
with your dear father."

STORIES ABOUT JAMES GORDON BENNETT

Many are the stories told of the late James Gordon Bennett. One, more
than any other, reveals one of his weaknesses--a disinclination to
acknowledge an error.

Before taking up his residence abroad he frequently breakfasted at
Delmonico's, then downtown. One Christmas morning he gave the waiter who
always served him a small roll of bills. As soon as opportunity offered
the waiter looked at the roll, and when he recovered his equilibrium
took it to Mr. Delmonico. There were six $1,000 bills in the roll. The
proprietor, sensing that a mistake had been made, put them in the safe.

When the publisher next visited the cafe Mr. Delmonico told him the
waiter had turned the money in. He added he would return it as Mr.
Bennett departed.

"Why return it? Didn't I give it to him?"

"Yes. But, of course, it was a mistake. You gave him $6,000."

"Mr. Delmonico," replied Bennett, rising to his full height, "you should
know by this time that James Gordon Bennett never makes a mistake."

A pressman had just returned to work after a protracted spree. His face
was battered, an eye was blackened, and an ear showed a tendency to
mushroom. The night of his return was one on which Mr. Bennett visited
the pressroom. He saw Mr. Bennett before Mr. Bennett saw him, and,
daubing a handful of ink on his face, he became so busy that Bennett
noticed him.

"Who is that man?" he asked the foreman. "What do you pay him?"

The foreman gave him the information.

"Double his salary," replied Mr. Bennett. "He's the only man in the
place who seems to be doing any work."

A dramatic critic, still a well-known writer, lost his place because he
would not get his hair cut. Bennett in Paris asked him why he wore his
hair so long and was told because he liked it that way. An order sending
him to Copenhagen followed. When his return was announced by a
secretary, Bennett asked if he had had his hair cut, and being informed
that he had not, ordered him to St. Petersburg. On his return from
Russia, still unshorn, he was sent to the Far East.

"Has he had his hair cut?" asked Bennett when his return was once more
announced.

"No, sir," replied the secretary, "it's as long as ever."

"Then fire him," replied Bennett. "He's too slow to take a hint to suit
me."

STAYING ON THE JOB

In introducing the Honorable W.G. McAdoo to an audience of North
Carolinians in the Raleigh Auditorium, Governor T.W. Bickett had
occasion to refer to the North Carolina trait of stick-to-it-ness. He
used as an example the case of Private Jim Webb, a green soldier and a
long, lanky individual from the farm who had never been drilled in his
whole life and knew even less about the usages and customs of war, so
when he was conscripted into the North Carolina divisions in the late
war between the states, he was given only a week's drill and then
assigned to duty.

His regiment was in the Peninsular campaign, and Jim was soon put on
guard duty, being given, as his first post, a place along the river
bank, and cautioned to stick to his post under any conditions, to watch
closely for the enemy, and to allow no one to pass who could not give
the countersign.

"Obey your instructions," said the officer of the guard, "and I will
return at two o'clock with relief. Do not leave your post under any
conditions."

Promptly at two o'clock the officer returned, to find Jim gone. He
searched long and diligently, but no trace of Jim. Finally he called,
lowly at first, then louder, seeking to know if Jim were in the vicinity
or had been captured. Finally came Jim's answering voice from out in the
middle of the river, "Here I be."

"What in the world are you doing out there?" asked the indignant
officer. "Did I not tell you not to leave your post?"

"I hain't moved, nuther," replied the indignant Jim; "the durn river's
riz."

BUSINESS IS BUSINESS

"May I see you privately?"

The well-dressed stranger approached the mayor of the suburban town with
the air of one who knew his business. When they were alone he said:

"I want to apply for the position of village burglar."

"Village burglar!"

"Yes, sir. I guarantee results, I only rob one house a week. This
includes a clean get-away. When a man, no matter how conscientious,
attempts any more than this, he is bound to deteriorate. By employing me
regularly you get the best results."

"What inducements do you offer?"

"Your village will be advertised regularly and in the most efficient
manner. I will guarantee to keep away all other burglars, thus insuring
the comfort and safety of your police. I return all goods stolen. If it
is necessary at any time to wound any of your citizens, I will pay half
of the hospital expenses. Salary five thousand a year. Can furnish
references."

"Nothing else?"

"My dear sir, what more do you want?"

The mayor shook his head, as rising, he indicated that the interview was
over.

"Sorry, my friend," he said, "that I can't accept your offer, but I am
just closing a contract with a man who not only will burglarize our
village regularly on your terms, but also will turn over to us as a
rebate one-half of the salary he gets from the burglary insurance
company that employs him."

HIS FAVORITE BEAST

Harris Dickson, on a hunting trip in Sunflower County, Mississippi, met
an old darky who had never seen a circus in his life. When the Big Show
came in the following season to Dickson's town of Vicksburg he sent for
the old man and treated him to the whole thing--arrival of the trains,
putting up the tents, grand free street parade, menagerie, main
performance, concert, side show, peanuts, red lemonade, and all.

The old darky followed his white patron through with popping eyes, but
saying never a word. Late in the afternoon they got back to the Dickson
home.

"John," said Dickson, "you enjoyed it?"

"Boss," said John fervently. "Ah shore did!"

"What did you like the most?"

"Mistah Dickson," answered John, "Ah shore laked hit all."

"Well, what impressed you most?"

"Well, suh, boss," he said, "Ah reckin hit waz dat dere animul you calls
de camuel."

"The camel, eh? Well, what was so remarkable about the camel?"

"He suttinly is got such a noble smell!"

A LONG STORY

"May I ask the cause of all this excitement?" asked the stranger in the
little village.

"Certainly," replied the countryman. "We're celebrating the birthday of
the oldest inhabitant sir. She's a hundred and one to-day."

"Indeed! And may I ask who is that little man, with the dreadfully sad
countenance, walking by the old lady's side?"

"Oh, that's the old lady's son-in-law, sir. He's been keeping up the
payments on her life-insurance for the last thirty years!"

A DUAL REPUTATION

As Grantland Rice tells the story, a certain distinguished English
actor, whom we may safely call Jones-Brown, plays a persistent but
horrible game of golf. During a recent visit to this country the actor
in question occasionally visited the links of a well-known country club
in Westchester County, near New York.

After an especially miserable showing of inaptness one morning, he flung
down his driver in disgust.

"Caddy," he said, addressing the silent youth who stood alongside, "that
was awful, wasn't it?"

"Purty bad, sir," stated the boy.

"I freely confess that I am the worst golfer in the world," continued
the actor.

"Oh, I wouldn't say that, sir," said the caddy soothingly.

"Did you ever see a worse player than I am?"

"No, sir, I never did," confessed the boy truthfully; "but some of the
other boys was tellin' me yistiddy about a gentleman that must be a
worse player than you are. They said his name was Jones-Brown."

ALWAYS SAFETY FIRST

"You say that you want some name engraved on this ring," said the
jeweller to the bashful young man.

"Yes; I want the words, 'George, to his dearest Alice' engraved on the
inside of the ring."

"Is the young lady your sister?"

"No; she is the young lady to whom I am engaged."

"Well, if I were you I would not have 'George, to his dearest Alice'
engraved on the ring. If Alice changes her mind you can't use the ring
again."

"What would you suggest?"

"I would suggest the words, 'George, to his first and only love,' You
see, with that inscription you can use the ring half a dozen times. I
have had experience in such matters myself."

SURPRISING

Pat came to the dentist's with his jaw very much swollen from a tooth he
desired to have pulled. But when the suffering son of Erin got into the
dentist's chair and saw the gleaming pair of forceps approaching his
face, he positively refused to open his mouth. The dentist quietly told
his page boy to prick his patient with a pin, and when Pat opened his
mouth to yell the dentist seized the tooth, and out it came. "It didn't
hurt as much as you expected it would, did it?" the dentist asked,
smilingly.

"Well, no," replied Pat, hesitatingly, as if doubting the truthfulness
of his admission. "But," he added, placing his hand on the spot where
the little boy pricked him with the pin, "begorra, little did I think
the roots would reach down like that."

TRUE OPTIMIST

Among the passengers on a train on a one-track road in the Middle West
was a talkative jewelry drummer. Presently the train stopped to take on
water, and the conductor neglected to send back a flagman. An express
came along and, before it could be stopped, bumped the rear end of the
first train. The drummer was lifted from his seat and pitched head first
into the seat ahead. His silk hat was jammed clear down over his ears.
He picked himself up and settled back in his seat. No bones had been
broken. He drew a long breath, straightened up, and said: "Well, they
didn't get by us, anyway."

INDISSOLUBLE PARTNERS

Memory and Imagination had a discussion as to which was the greater.
"Without me," said Memory, "your buildings, your fine castles, would all
go down. I alone give you power to retain them."

"Without me," said Imagination, "there would be no use of retaining
them, for, indeed, they wouldn't be there. I am the great builder."

"And I the great recorder."

"It appears, then, that no one of us is greater than the other. Yet I
would not change places with you."

"Why not?" said Memory.

"Because," replied Imagination, "without you I can still keep on
creating over and over."

At the end of a year Memory came back.

"What have you done?" asked Memory.

"Nothing," said Imagination.

"And you were wrong when you said that without me you could still go on
creating."

"Yes. I did not realize how dependent I was upon you. What have you been
doing during the year?"

"Reviewing some old friends. That was all I could do."

"Then we are practically equal."

"Yes. Let us live together hereafter in harmony, carrying on our door
this legend:

There is no Memory without
Imagination,
And no Imagination without
Memory."

DEPENDED ON THE MULE

Speaking at a political gathering, Congressman Frederick W. Dallinger,
of Massachusetts, referred to the many amusing incidents of the
schoolrooms, and related a little incident along that line.

A teacher in a public school was instructing a youthful class in
English when she paused and turned to a small boy named Jimmy Brown.

"James," said she, "write on the board, 'Richard can ride the mule if he
wants to,'"

This Jimmie proceeded to do to the satisfaction of all concerned.

"Now, then," continued the teacher when Jimmy had returned to his place,
"can you find a better form for that sentence?"

"Yes, ma'am," was the prompt response of Jimmy. "'Richard can ride the
mule if the mule wants him to.'"

CROWN PRINCE CALLED DOWN

Some years before the war the German Crown Prince got a very neat
call-down from Miss Bernice Willard, a Philadelphia girl. It was during
the Emperor's regatta, and the two mentioned were sitting with others on
the deck of a yacht. A whiff of smoke from the Prince's cigarette
blowing into the young lady's face, a lieutenant near by remarked:

"Smoke withers flowers."

"It is no flower," said the prince, jocularly, "it is a thistle."

Miss Willard raised her eyes a trifle.

"In that case," she said, "I had better retire or I shall be devoured"

HUMBLED

Mrs. Mellon did not wish to offend her new cook.

"John," she said to the manservant, "can you find out without asking the
cook whether the tinned salmon was all eaten last night? You see, I
don't wish to ask her, because she may have eaten it, and then she would
feel uncomfortable," added the good soul.

"If you please, ma'am," replied the man, "the new cook has eaten the
tinned salmon, and if you was to say anything to her you couldn't make
her feel any more uncomfortable than she is."

IS THIS TACT?

An officer on board a warship was drilling his men.

"I want every man to lie on his back, put his legs in the air, and move
them as if he were riding a bicycle," he explained. "Now commence."

After a short effort one of the men stopped.

"Why have you stopped, Murphy?" asked the officer.

"If ye plaze, sir," was the answer, "Oi'm coasting."

WARNED IN TWENTY YEARS

Several Scotchmen were discussing the domestic unhappiness of a mutual
friend.

"Aye," said one, "Jock McDonald has a sair time wi' that wife o' his.
They do say they're aye quarrelin'."

"It serve' him richt," said another feelingly. "The puir feckless
creature marrit after coortin' only eight year. Man, indeed, he had nae
chance to ken the wumman in sic a short time. When I was coortin' I was
coortin' twenty year."

"And how did it turn out?" inquired a stranger in the party.

"I tell ye, I was coortin' twenty year, an' in that time I kenned what
wumman was, an' so I didna marry."

BEGINNING EARLY

Jack disliked being kissed, and, being a handsome little chap, sometimes
had a good deal to put up with. One day he had been kissed a lot. Then,
to make matters worse, on going to the picture palace in the evening,
instead of his favorite cowboy and Indian pictures, there was nothing
but a lot more hugging and kissing.

He returned home completely out of patience with the whole tribe of
women.

After he had tucked into bed mother came in to kiss him good-night.

He refused to be kissed.

Mother begged and begged, till in disgust he turned to his father, who
was standing at the doorway looking on, and said:

"Daddy, for the love of Heaven, give this woman a kiss!"

DISCERNING

"Daisy," remarked the teacher, "don't love your cat too much. What would
you do if it died--you wouldn't see it again?"

"Oh, yes; I should see it in heaven."

"No, dear, you're mistaken; animals cannot go to heaven like people."

Daisy's eyes filled with tears, but suddenly she exclaimed triumphantly:

"Animals do go to heaven, for the Bible says the Promised Land is
flowing with milk and honey, and, if there are no animals, where do they
get the milk?"

ROTUND

An elderly woman who was extremely stout was endeavoring to enter a
street car when the conductor, noticing her difficulty, said to her:

"Try sideways, madam; try sideways."

The woman looked up breathlessly and said: "Why, bless ye, I ain't got
no sideways!"

BEYOND THE SENSE OF HUMOR

A Scottish soldier, badly wounded, requested an army chaplain to write a
letter for him to his wife. The chaplain, anxious to oblige, started off
with "My dear Wife--"

"Na, na," said the Scotsman, "dinna pit that doon. Ma wife canna see a
joke."

A NEW COMPLAINT

A German, whose wife was ill at the Seney Hospital, Brooklyn, called the
first evening she was there and inquired how she was getting along. He
was told that she was improving.

Next day he called again, and was told she was still improving. This
went on for some time, each day the report being that his wife was
improving.

Finally, one day he called and said:

"How iss my wife?"

"She's dead."

He went out and met a friend, and the friend said:

"Well, how is your wife?"

"She's dead."

"Ooh! How terrible! What did she die of?"

"Improvements!"

SOME FIGHT

An American Negro stevedore assigned to the great docks in southwestern
France had written several letters to his black Susanna in Jacksonville,
Fla., when she wrote back saying:

"You-all don't nevah tell me nothin' 'bout de battle a-tall. Tilda
Sublet's Dave done wrote her all about how he kotched two Germans all by
hisself and kilt three mo'."

The stevedore was reluctant to tell his girl that he was doing manual
labor and that his only accoutrement was the tinware from which he ate
his war bread, "slum" and coffee. His reply ran:

"Dear Sue: De battle am goin' on. You would faint if I tole yuh de full
details. Ah'm standin' in blood up to mah knees, and every time Ah move
Ah step on a daid German. We're too close to use our rifles, and we're
bitin' and gougin' 'em. At one time me and two othah niggahs was hangin'
onto de Crown Prince wid our teeth, an' old Papa Kaiser done beat us off
wid a fence rail untwell ree-umfo's-ments come!"

TOO STRONG A TERM

One evening just before dinner the wife, who had been playing bridge all
the afternoon, came in to find her husband and a strange man (afterward
ascertained to be a lawyer) engaged in some mysterious business over the
library table upon which were spread several sheets of paper.

"What are you doing with all that paper, Henry?" demanded the wife.

"I am making a wish," meekly responded the husband.

"A wish?"

"Yes, my dear. In your presence I shall not presume to call it a will."

NOT FOR HER TO SAY

The value of travel oftentimes depends upon who travels.

Mrs. Williams, who had recently returned from abroad, was attending an
afternoon tea which was given in her honor.

"And did you actually go to Rome?" asked the hostess.

"I really don't know, my dear," replied Mrs. Williams. "You see, my
husband always bought the tickets."

AN EXPERT

"So," said the old general, "you think you would make a good valet for
an old wreck like me, do you? I have a glass eye, a wooden leg, and a
wax arm that need looking after, not to mention false teeth, and so
forth."

"Oh, that's all right, general," replied the applicant,
enthusiastically; "I've had lots of experience. I worked six years in
the assembling department of a big motor-car factory."

SHE ADMITTED IT

Our ideals are often a personal matter and, after all, it is just as
well to be humble about our achievements A certain woman was brought
before a magistrate.

"It appears to be your record, Mary Moselle," said the magistrate, "that
you have been thirty-five times convicted of stealing."

"I guess, your honor," replied Mary, "that is right. No woman is
perfect."

A BENEFACTOR OF MANKIND

This story teaches us a very old moral.

The man of whom it is told was travelling in a railroad train when he
leaned forward confidentially to the man in the next seat:

"Excuse me, sir," he said. "You're not going to get off at the next
station, are you?"

"No, sir."

"Then that will give me time to tell you. Are you aware, sir, what is
the matter with this great country?"

"No, sir."

"As I thought. It's due entirely to misunderstanding. We are always
jumping to conclusions about others. That makes us suspicious. Result,
constant friction. Take you and me, for example. At present we are
comparative strangers. But when we get to know each other better we
shall slowly but surely come to realize that each of us is trying to do
our best, and--"

"But I don't want to know you any better."

"Precisely. Exactly. That's what causes all the trouble. I judge you and
you judge me too hastily. As you become better acquainted with my
motives you will gradually come to realize that deep down in my heart is
a passionate desire to benefit my fellowmen. Same here. My tendency is
to treat you as a stranger, not to give you credit for noble generosity
and genuine civic virtue. But I am determined to overcome this attitude
and recognize you as a brother. I know I'm a hundred years ahead of my
age, but someone must make the sacrifice."

The train stopped and the other man got up and, leaning over, grabbed
him by the arm.

"I'm changing my mind," he said; "guess I will get off at this station.
By-by. Sorry I can't know you better."

The pioneer in human progress sat for some time after the train had
started, pondering on the deep problem of destiny. Suddenly, however, he
clapped his hands to his pockets and ran forward to the conductor.

"Say, conductor," he whispered, hoarsely, "did that man I was talking to
get off at the last station?"

"Yes, sir; did you lose anything?"

The human benefactor smiled sadly.

"Not in comparison with what the world has lost," he replied. "The human
race has lost one of those priceless ideas which, in the course of
centuries, sometimes come to real genius only to be abandoned. I lost
only my watch."

THE SILVER LINING

He was a Scot, with the usual thrifty characteristics of his race.
Wishing to know his fate, he telegraphed a proposal of marriage to the
lady of his choice. After waiting all day at the telegraph office he
received an affirmative answer late at night.

"Well, if I were you," said the operator who delivered the message, "I'd
think twice before I'd marry a girl who kept me waiting so long for an
answer."

"Na, na," replied the Scot. "The lass for me is the lass wha waits for
the night rates."

FRENCH POLITENESS

As a truly polite nation the French undoubtedly lead the world, thinks a
contributor to a British weekly. The other day a Paris dentist's servant
opened the door to a woebegone patient.

"And who, monsieur," he queried in a tender tone, "shall I have the
misery of announcing?"

SIMPLE FAITH

The Methodist minister in a small country town was noted for his begging
propensities and for his ability to extract generous offerings from the
close-fisted congregation, which was made up mostly of farmers. One day
the young son of one of the members accidentally swallowed a ten-cent
piece, much to the excitement of the rest of the family. Every means of
dislodging the coin had failed and the frightened parents were about to
give up in despair when a bright thought struck the little daughter, who
exclaimed: "Oh, mamma, I know how you can get it! Send for our minister;
he'll get it out of him!"

LIMITED DISSIPATION

A small, hen-pecked, worried-looking man was about to take an
examination for life insurance.

"You don't dissipate, do you?" asked the physician, as he made ready for
tests. "Not a fast liver, or anything of that sort?"

The little man hesitated a moment, looked a bit frightened, then
replied, in a small, piping voice: "I sometimes chew a little gum."

THE LIMIT

The manager of a factory recently engaged a new man and gave
instructions to the foreman to instruct him in his duties. A few days
afterward the manager inquired whether the new man was progressing with
his work.

The foreman, who had not agreed very well with the man in question,
exclaimed angrily:

"Progressing! There's been a lot of progress. I have taught him
everything I know and he is still an ignorant fool."

A PERFECT PROGRAM

This story has the merit of being true, anyhow: The official pessimist
of a small Western city, a gentleman who had wrestled with chronic
dyspepsia for years, stood in front of the post office as the noon
whistles sounded.

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