Six and One
The Committee on Gerrymander worked late, drawing intricate lines on a map of the State, and being weary sought repose in a game of poker. At the close of the game the six Republican members were bankrupt and the single Democrat had all the money. On the next day, when the Committee was called to order for business, one of the luckless six mounted his legs, and said:
“Mr. Chairman, before we bend to our noble task of purifying politics, in the interest of good government I wish to say a word of the untoward events of last evening. If my memory serves me the disasters which overtook the Majority of this honourable body always befell when it was the Minority’s deal. It is my solemn conviction, Mr. Chairman, and to its affirmation I pledge my life, my fortune, and my sacred honour, that that wicked and unscrupulous Minority redistricted the cards!”
The Sportsman and the Squirrel
A Sportsman who had wounded a Squirrel, which was making desperate efforts to drag itself away, ran after it with a stick, exclaiming:
“Poor thing! I will put it out of its misery.”
At that moment the Squirrels stopped from exhaustion, and looking up at its enemy, said:
“I don’t venture to doubt the sincerity of your compassion, though it comes rather late, but you seem to lack the faculty of observation. Do you not perceive by my actions that the dearest wish of my heart is to continue in my misery?”
At this exposure of his hypocrisy, the Sportsman was so overcome with shame and remorse that he would not strike the Squirrel, but pointing it out to his dog, walked thoughtfully away.
The Fogy and the Sheik
A Fogy who lived in a cave near a great caravan route returned to his home one day and saw, near by, a great concourse of men and animals, and in their midst a tower, at the foot of which something with wheels smoked and panted like an exhausted horse. He sought the Sheik of the Outfit.
“What sin art thou committing now, O son of a Christian dog?” said the Fogy, with a truly Oriental politeness.
“Boring for water, you black-and-tan galoot!” replied the Sheik of the Outfit, with that ready repartee which distinguishes the Unbeliever.
“Knowest thou not, thou whelp of darkness and father of disordered livers,” cried the Fogy, “that water will cause grass to spring up here, and trees, and possibly even flowers? Knowest thou not, that thou art, in truth, producing an oasis?”
“And don’t you know,” said the Sheik of the Outfit, “that caravans will then stop here for rest and refreshments, giving you a chance to steal the camels, the horses, and the goods?”
“May the wild hog defile my grave, but thou speakest wisdom!” the Fogy replied, with the dignity of his race, extending his hand. “Sheik.”
They shook.
At Heaven’s Gate
Having arisen from the tomb, a Woman presented herself at the gate of Heaven, and knocked with a trembling hand.
“Madam,” said Saint Peter, rising and approaching the wicket, “whence do you come?”
“From San Francisco,” replied the Woman, with embarrassment, as great beads of perspiration spangled her spiritual brow.
“Never mind, my good girl,” the Saint said, compassionately. “Eternity is a long time; you can live that down.”
“But that, if you please, is not all.” The Woman was growing more and more confused. “I poisoned my husband. I chopped up my babies. I—”
“Ah,” said the Saint, with sudden austerity, “your confession suggests a very grave possibility. Were you a member of the Women’s Press Association?”
The lady drew herself up and replied with warmth:
“I was not.”
The gates of pearl and jasper swung back upon their golden hinges, making the most ravishing music, and the Saint, stepping aside, bowed low, saying:
“Enter, then, into thine eternal rest.”
But the Woman hesitated.
“The poisoning—the chopping—the—the—” she stammered.
“Of no consequence, I assure you. We are not going to be hard on a lady who did not belong to the Women’s Press Association. Take a harp.”
“But I applied for membership—I was blackballed.”
“Take two harps.”
The Catted Anarchist
An Anarchist Orator who had been struck in the face with a Dead Cat by some Respector of Law to him unknown, had the Dead Cat arrested and taken before a Magistrate.
“Why do you appeal to the law?” said the Magistrate—“You who go in for the abolition of law.”
“That,” replied the Anarchist, who was not without a certain hardness of head, “that is none of your business; I am not bound to be consistent. You sit here to do justice between me and this Dead Cat.”
“Very well,” said the Magistrate, putting on the black cap and a solemn look; “as the accused makes no defence, and is undoubtedly guilty, I sentence her to be eaten by the public executioner; and as that position happens to be vacant, I appoint you to it, without bonds.”
One of the most delighted spectators at the execution was the anonymous Respector of Law who had flung the condemned.
The Honourable Member
A Member of a Legislature, who had pledged himself to his Constituents not to steal, brought home at the end of the session a large part of the dome of the Capitol. Thereupon the Constituents held an indignation meeting and passed a resolution of tar and feathers.
“You are most unjust,” said the Member of the Legislature. “It is true I promised you I would not steal; but had I ever promised you that I would not lie?”
