Willie was astounded.  Looking back, he demanded, in a very fever of interest: 

“Which horn did she blow?”

   There was an old man who said, “How
   Shall I flee from this horrible cow? 
     I will sit on this stile
     And continue to smile,
   Which may soften the heart of that cow.”

CRITICISM

FIRST MUSIC CRITIC—­“I wasted a whole evening by going to that new pianist’s concert last night!”

SECOND MUSIC CRITIC—­“Why?”

FIRST MUSIC CRITIC—­“His playing was above criticism!”

                               As soon
   Seek roses in December—­ice in June,
   Hope, constancy in wind, or corn in chaff;
   Believe a woman or an epitaph,
   Or any other thing that’s false, before
   You trust in critics.

—­Byron.

It is much easier to be critical than to be correct.—­Disraeli.

See also Dramatic criticism.

CRUELTY

“Why do you beat your little son?  It was the cat that upset the vase of flowers.”

“I can’t beat the cat.  I belong to the S.P.C.A.”

CUCUMBERS

Consider the ways of the little green cucumber, which never does its best fighting till it’s down.—­Stanford Chaparral.

CULTURE

See Kultur.

CURFEW

A former resident of Marshall, Mo., was asking about the old town.

“I understand they have a curfew law out there now,” he said.

“No,” his informant answered, “they did have one, but they abandoned it.”

“What was the matter?”

“Well, the bell rang at 9 o’clock, and almost everyone complained that it woke them up.”

CURIOSITY

The Christmas church services were proceeding very successfully when a woman in the gallery got so interested that she leaned out too far and fell over the railing.  Her dress caught in a chandelier, and she was suspended in mid-air.  The minister noticed her undignified position and thundered at the congregation: 

“Any person in this congregation who turns around will be struck stone-blind.”

A man, whose curiosity was getting the better of him, but who dreaded the clergyman’s warning, finally turned to his companion and said: 

“I’m going to risk one eye.”

A one-armed man entered a restaurant at noon and seated himself next to a dapper little other-people’s-business man.  The latter at once noticed his neighbor’s left sleeve hanging loose and kept eying it in a how-did-it-happen sort of a way.  The one-armed man paid no attention to him but kept on eating with his one hand.  Finally the inquisitive one could stand it no longer.  He changed his position a little, cleared his throat, and said:  “I beg pardon, sir, but I see you have lost an arm.”