“Yes, sir,” said the boys.
“Now,” continued the teacher, “what I want to know is this: How is it that while I am standing upright in the ordinary position the blood doesn’t rush into my feet?”
And a little fellow shouted: “Why, sir, because yer feet ain’t empty.”
One day an ammunition dump blew up. Cordite was blazing, shells and bombs bursting, and splinters and whole shells flying everywhere in the vicinity. The atmosphere was full of smoke and resounding with metallic whines. Out of a shack hard by came a darky, loaded to the waterline with kit, blankets, rifle, etc., and up the road he dangled.
“Here! Where are you going?” shouted an officer.
“I ain’t goin’, suh,” panted the darky. “I’s gone.”
Representative Billy Wilson, who dwells in Chicago, found himself in the upper peninsula of Michigan doing some fishing and hunting. While there he conversed with the guide that he had hired in order to have somebody around to talk to.
“Must get mighty all-fired cold up here in winter,” remarked Wilson one morning.
“Yes, it often gets away down to forty-five below zero,” replied the native.
“Don’t see how you stand it,” said the Congressman.
“Oh, I always spend my winters in the South,” explained the guide.
“Go South, eh? Well, well! That’s enterprising. And where do you go?”
“Grand Rapids,” said the guide.
The college boys played a mean trick on “Prexy” by pasting some of the leaves of his Bible together. He rose to read the morning lesson, which might have been as follows:
“Now Johial took unto himself a wife of the daughters of Belial.” (He turned a leaf.) “She was eighteen cubits in height and ten cubits in breadth.” (A pause, and careful scrutiny of the former page.)
He resumed: “Now Johial took unto himself a wife,” etc. (Leaf turned.) “She was eighteen cubits in height and ten cubits in breadth, and was pitched within and without—” (Painful pause and sounds of subdued mirth.) “Prexy” turns back again in perplexity.
“Young gentlemen, I can only add that ’Man is fearfully and wonderfully made’—and woman also.”
Saying is one thing and doing is another. In Montana a railway bridge had been destroyed by fire, and it was necessary to replace it. The bridge engineer and his staff were ordered in haste to the place. Two days later came the superintendent of the division. Alighting from his private car, he encountered the old master bridge-builder.
“Bill,” said the superintendent—and the words quivered with energy—“I want this job rushed. Every hour’s delay costs the company money. Have you got the engineer’s plans for the new bridge?”