More Toasts eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 609 pages of information about More Toasts.

More Toasts eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 609 pages of information about More Toasts.

There was nobody who could play the violin like Smifkins—­at least so he thought—­and he was delighted when he was asked to play at a local function.

“Sir,” he said to the host, “the instrument I shall use at your gathering is over two hundred years old.”

“Oh, that’s all right!  Never mind,” returned the host; “no one will ever know the difference.”

MUSICAL STUDENT—­“That piece you just played is by Mozart, isn’t it?”

HURDY-GURDY MAN—­“No, by Handel.”

When Paderewski was on his last visit to America he was in a Boston suburb, when he was approached by a bootblack who called: 

“Shine?”

The great pianist looked down at the youth whose face was streaked with grime and said: 

“No, my lad, but if you will wash your face I will give you a quarter.”

“All right!” exclaimed the youth, who forthwith ran to a neighboring trough and made his ablutions.

When he returned Paderewski held out the quarter, which the boy took but immediately handed back, saying: 

“Here, Mister, you take it yourself and get your hair cut.”

NAMES, PERSONAL

“Why do you call the baby Bill?”

“He was born on the first of the month.”

In an Ohio town is a colored man whose last name is Washington.

Heaven has blest him with three sons.

When the first son arrived the father named him George Washington.  In due time the second son came.  Naturally he was christened Booker Washington.  When the third man child was born his parent was at a loss, at first, for a name for him.  Finally tho, he hit on a suitable selection.

The third son, if he lives, will go through life as Spokane
Washington.

Aunt Lindy had brought around her three grandchildren for her mistress to see.  The three little darkies, in calico smocks, stood squirming in line while Lindy proudly surveyed them.

“What are their names, Lindy?” her mistress asked.

“Dey’s name’ after flowers, ma’am.  Ah name’ ’em.  De bigges’ one’s name’ Gladiola.  De nex’ one, she name’ Heliotrope.”

“Those are very pretty,” her mistress said.  “What is the littlest one named?”

“She name’ Artuhficial, ma’am.”

William Williams hated nicknames.  He used to say that most fine given names were ruined by abbreviations, which was a sin and a shame.  “I myself,” he said, “am one of six brothers.  We were all given good, old-fashioned Christian names, but all those names were shortened into meaningless or feeble monosyllables by our friends.  I shall name my children so that it will be impracticable to curtail their names.”

The Williams family, in the course of time, was blessed with five children, all boys.  The eldest was named after the father—­William.  Of course, that would be shortened to “Will” or enfeebled to “Willie”—­but wait!  A second son came and was christened Willard.  “Aha!” chuckled Mr. Williams.  “Now everybody will have to speak the full names of each of these boys in order to distinguish them.”

Copyrights
Project Gutenberg
More Toasts from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.