Ignore Them — Mosquitoes

1910

The best way to get rid of the mosquito, says the Brooklyn Eagle, is to get the habit of not minding him, like the natives. No native or resident of a few months in a mosquito section minds mosquitoes any more than he does flies. But this method is slow in its appeal to the man who finds the pests attack him with more zeal than they do the natives.


He Knew About Ice Cream

The first time three-year-old Ray noticed a rainbow he shouted: "Oh! That looks just like ice cream in the sky!"


Money Well Spent

"I suppose to educate your daughter in music costs a great deal of money?"
"Yes; but she's brought it all back for me."
"Indeed!"
"Yes; I'd been trying to buy out my next door neighbor at half price for years, and could never bring him to terms until she came home!"

A Cross On His Back

1899

There is a story of an envious tailor current with the French peasantry. He fancied that his neighbor, who received a pension for the loss of an arm incurred while fighting for his country, was better off than himself. Both men went to pay their rent on the same day.

"That's a lucky man," said the tailor to the landlord. "He gets well paid for his arm."

"But who would be willing to part with an arm, even if he were paid for it?" said the landlord.

"I would," declared the tailor.

"You!" cried the landlord. "Why, man, you wouldn't be willing to bear anything of the sort, no matter how much you were paid for it."

"I wish some one would try me."

"Now, see here," said the landlord, who had studied human nature, "I'll tell you what, if you'll wear even so much as a chalk-mark on your back I'll remit your rent as long as you wear it on your coat so it can be seen, the condition being that you tell no one why it is there."

"Agreed," said the tailor, eagerly. "That's an easy way to pay rent!"

So the chalk-mark in the form of a cross was made on the back of his coat, and the delighted tailor sallied forth upon the street.

Strangers and acquaintances hailed him to tell him of the mark on his back. Jokes were made at his expense, children laughed and pointed at him, and his wife annoyed him with questions, and with conjugal familiarity told him he was a fool. The usually amiable man grew surly and morose; he shunned men, women and children, and frequented back streets. Before the week was up the tailor found himself embroiled in a quarrel with his best friend, his wife had threatened to leave his house, and he considered himself miserable and ill-used.

Finally, one night he took off his coat and rubbed out the chalk-mark and said, "There! I would not wear that cross on my back another week, no, not if I could have all the money there is in Paris!" — Youth's Companion.

Daddy's Bedtime Story — "Where the Bad Boy Found His Manners"

1911

The Bad Boy in the Ditch

"He was really a naughty, ill mannered boy," began daddy. "His parents were wealthy, and they left him to the care of servants, who did not know how to make a good boy of him. The result was that he was impudent to the servants and cruel to dogs and cats and insisted on having his own way always. I shall tell you how he learned a good lesson.

"It happened in the summer time. One day this naughty boy, whose name was Dick, was standing at the gate of his father's house when another boy came there. He was a poor boy — you could tell that by his old clothing — but his shirt waist and his knickerbockers were clean and neat, and his face shone with good nature as well as soap and water. You could tell by looking at him that he was a jolly fellow. He carried in his hand a tin can full of ripe, juicy blackberries, and he asked Dick to buy them.

" 'Go away from here,' said Dick, with a frown, 'or I shall set the dog on you. We don't need your berries. We have everything we want!'

" 'If you have, please give me a drink of water,' said the poor boy. But Dick threatened again to set the dog on him, so he went away whistling.

"Then Dick said to himself: 'Those blackberries looked good. I think I will go and get some for myself.' He went out of the gate and down the road to a place where he knew the blackberries grew. The bushes were on the far side of a wide ditch, which was filled with mud. Dick was too lazy to find a good place to cross, so he tried to jump the ditch.

"He landed right in the middle in mud up to his waist When he tried to get out he found that he was stuck fast and could not free himself. Then he called for help. But it was a lonely spot, and for a long time he heard no answer. Then he heard a voice saying, 'Who's there?'

"Then Dick called again as loudly as he could, and soon he saw at the side of the ditch the poor boy whom he had treated so rudely. 'Hello!' said the boy. 'How did you get in there?'

" 'I fell in,' said Dick. 'Please help me out?'

" 'All right,' said the other boy. And he lay down at the side of the ditch, not minding the mud on his clothing, and reached out his hand to Dick. He was a strong boy, so he soon was able to get Dick out. Dick thanked him and went home to be cleaned off.

"The next day when the poor boy came around again to try to sell his berries Dick was very nice to him. 'Where did you find your manners?' asked the boy. 'In the ditch,' said Dick."

Rossini's Lesson to an Organ Grinder

1874

The London Echo should have thought that it would be as easy to teach a cow to dance a minuet as to give an organ grinder any idea of time.

It appears, however, that the composer Rossini was of a different opinion. It is said that when he lived in the Chaussee d'Antin, he came one day upon a man playing "Di Tanti Palpiti" on a hurdy-gurdy. The performer was astonished to hear a voice from the crowd suddenly exclaim, "Faster, faster!" "How faster?" says the organ man. "Turn the handle quicker; it is allegro." "But, sir, I don't know——" "Like this; so—so, and Rossini rushed upon the organ and ground out the tune to the proper time. "Thank you, sir," said the man; "I shall remember the lesson;" and in fact on the next day he was heard in the same place playing "Di Tanti Palpiti" as he had been taught. "Bravo, bravo, bravo!" exclaimed Rossini from a window, and dropped a louis d'or at the man's feet. The Echo scarcely knows whether to admire most the condescension of the composer or the docility of the grinder.