The Kangaroo and the Zebra
A Kangaroo hopping awkwardly along with some bulky object concealed in her pouch met a Zebra, and desirous of keeping his attention upon himself, said:
“Your costume looks as if you might have come out of the penitentiary.”
“Appearances are deceitful,” replied the Zebra, smiling in the consciousness of a more insupportable wit, “or I should have to think that you had come out of the Legislature.”
A Matter of Method
A Philosopher seeing a Fool beating his Donkey, said:
“Abstain, my son, abstain, I implore. Those who resort to violence shall suffer from violence.”
“That,” said the Fool, diligently belabouring the animal, “is what I’m trying to teach this beast—which has kicked me.”
“Doubtless,” said the Philosopher to himself, as he walked away, “the wisdom of fools is no deeper nor truer than ours, but they really do seem to have a more impressive way of imparting it.”
The Man of Principle
During a shower of rain the Keeper of a Zoological garden observed a Man of Principle crouching beneath the belly of the ostrich, which had drawn itself up to its full height to sleep.
“Why, my dear sir,” said the Keeper, “if you fear to get wet, you’d better creep into the pouch of yonder female kangaroo—the
“I can’t help that,” the Man of Principle replied, with that lofty scorn of practical considerations distinguishing his species. “He may kick me to death if he wish, but until he does he shall give me shelter from the storm. He has swallowed my umbrella.”
The Returned Californian
A Man was hanged by the neck until he was dead.
“Whence do you come?” Saint Peter asked when the Man presented himself at the gate of Heaven.
“From California,” replied the applicant.
“Enter, my son, enter; you bring joyous tidings.”
When the Man had vanished inside, Saint Peter took his memorandum-tablet and made the following entry:
“February 16, 1893. California occupied by the Christians.”
The Compassionate Physician
A Kind-Hearted Physician sitting at the bedside of a patient afflicted with an incurable and painful disease, heard a noise behind him, and turning saw a cat laughing at the feeble efforts of a wounded mouse to drag itself out of the room.
“You cruel beast!” cried he. “Why don’t you kill it at once, like a lady?”
Rising, he kicked the cat out of the door, and picking up the mouse compassionately put it out of its misery by pulling off its head. Recalled to the bedside by the moans of his patient, the Kind-hearted Physician administered a stimulant, a tonic, and a nutrient, and went away.
Two of the Damned
Two Blighted Beings, haggard, lachrymose, and detested, met on a blasted heath in the light of a struggling moon.
“I wish you a merry Christmas,” said the First Blighted Being, in a voice like that of a singing tomb.
“And I you a happy New Year,” responded the Second Blighted Being, with the accent of a penitent accordeon.
They then fell upon each other’s neck and wept scalding rills down each other’s spine in token of their banishment to the Realm of Ineffable Bosh. For one of these accursed creatures was the First of January, and the other the Twenty-fifth of December.
The Austere Governor
A Governor visiting a State prison was implored by a Convict to pardon him.
“What are you in for?” asked the Governor.
“I held a high office,” the Convict humbly replied, “and sold subordinate appointments.”
“Then I decline to interfere,” said the Governor, with asperity; “a man who abuses his office by making it serve a private end and purvey a personal advantage is unfit to be free. By the way, Mr. Warden,” he added to that official, as the Convict slunk away, “in appointing you to this position, I was given to understand that your friends could make the Shikane county delegation to the next State convention solid for—for the present Administration. Was I rightly informed?”
“You were, sir.”
“Very well, then, I will bid you good-day. Please be so good as to appoint my nephew Night Chaplain and Reminder of Mothers and Sisters.”
Religions of Error
Hearing a sound of strife, a Christian in the Orient asked his Dragoman the cause of it.
“The Buddhists are cutting Mohammedan throats,” the Dragoman replied, with oriental composure.
“I did not know,” remarked the Christian, with scientific interest, “that that would make so much noise.”
“The Mohammedans are cutting Buddhist throats, too,” added the Dragoman.
“It is astonishing,” mused the Christian, “how violent and how general are religious animosities. Everywhere in the world the devotees of each local faith abhor the devotees of every other, and abstain from murder only so long as they dare not commit it. And the strangest thing about it is that all religions are erroneous and mischievous excepting mine. Mine, thank God, is true and benign.”
So saying he visibly smugged and went off to telegraph for a brigade of cutthroats to protect Christian interests.
