The Wit and Humor of America, Volume III | Page 5

I, "I shan't give you that, but, if you've a mind to, I'll give
you two cents for three of them, for I begin to feel a little as though I
would like to take a bite."
"Well," says he, "I wouldn't sell 'em to anybody else so, but, seeing it's
you, I don't care if you take 'em."
I knew he lied, for he never seen me before in his life. Well, he handed
down the biscuits, and I took 'em and walked round the store awhile, to
see what else he had to sell. At last says I,--
"Mister, have you got any good cider?"
Says he, "Yes, as good as ever ye see."
"Well," says I, "what do you ax a glass for it?"
"Two cents," says he.
"Well," says I, "seems to me I feel more dry than I do hungry now.
Ain't you a mind to take these 'ere biscuits again, and give me a glass of
cider?"
And says he,--
"I don't care if I do."
So he took and laid 'em on the shelf again, and poured out a glass of
cider. I took the cider and drinkt it down, and, to tell the truth, it was
capital good cider. Then says I,--

"I guess it's time for me to be a-going," and I stept along towards the
door; but says he,--
"Stop, mister: I believe you haven't paid me for the cider?"
"Not paid you for the cider!" says I. "What do you mean by that? Didn't
the biscuits that I give you just come to the cider?"
"Oh, ah, right!" says he.
So I started to go again, and says he,--
"But stop there, mister: you didn't pay me for the biscuits."
"What!" says I, "do you mean to impose upon me? do you think I am
going to pay you for the biscuits and let you keep them, too? Ain't they
there now on your shelf? What more do you want? I guess, sir, you
don't whittle me in that way."
So I turned about and marched off, and left the feller staring and
scratching his head, as though he was struck with a dunderment.
Howsomever, I didn't want to cheat him, only jest to show 'em it wa'n't
so easy a matter to pull my eye-teeth out; so I called in next day and
paid him two cents.

WILD ANIMALS I HAVE MET
BY CAROLYN WELLS
THE LION
I've met this beast in drawing-rooms, 'Mong ladies gay with silks and
plumes. He looks quite bored, and silly, too, When he's held up to
public view. I think I like him better when Alone I brave him in his
den.

THE BEAR
I never seek the surly Bear, But if I meet him in his lair I say, "Good
day, sir; sir, good day," And then make haste to get away. It is no
pleasure, I declare, To meet the cross, ill-natured Bear.
THE GOOSE
I know it would be of no use To say I'd never met a Goose. There are
so many all around, With idle look and clacking sound. And sometimes
it has come to pass I've seen one in my looking-glass.
THE DUCK
This merry one, with laughing eyes, Not too sedate nor overwise, Is
best of comrades; frank and free, A clever hand at making tea; A
fearless nature, full of pluck, I like her well--she is a Duck.
THE CAT
The Cat's a nasty little beast; She's seen at many a fête and feast. She's
spiteful, sly and double-faced, Exceeding prim, exceeding chaste. And
while a soft, sleek smile she wears, Her neighbor's reputation tears.
THE PUPPY
Of all the animals I've met The Puppy is the worst one yet. Clumsy and
crude, he hasn't brains Enough to come in when it rains. But with
insufferable conceit He thinks that he is just too sweet.
THE KID
Kids are the funniest things I know; Nothing they do but eat and grow.
They're frolicsome, and it is said They eat tin cans and are not dead. I'm
not astonished at that feat, For all things else I've seen them eat.

A BALLADE OF THE "HOW TO" BOOKS

BY JOHN JAMES DAVIES
That time when Learning's path was steep, And rocks and fissures
marred the way, The few who dared were forced to creep, Their souls
oft quaking with dismay; The goal achieved, their hairs were gray,
Their bodies bent like shepherds' crooks; How blest are we who run
to-day The easy road of "How To" books!
The presses groan, and volumes heap, Our dullness we no more betray;
To know the stars, or shear a sheep-- To live on air, or polo play; The
trick is ours, or we may stray Beneath the seas, with science