GOOD STORIES

from the ladies’ home journal

Warding Off a Catastrophe

A fat woman entered a crowded street car and, seizing a strap, stood directly in front of a man seated in the corner.  As the car started she lunged against his newspaper and at the same time trod heavily on his toes.

As soon as he could extricate himself he rose and offered her his seat.

“You are very kind, sir,” she said, panting for breath.

“Not at all, madam,” he replied; “it’s not kindness; it’s simply self-defense.”

Not What She Expected

A charming, well-preserved widow had been courted and won by a physician.  She had children.  The wedding-day was approaching, and it was time the children should know they were to have a new father.  Calling one of them to her she said:  “Georgie, I am going to do something before long that I would like to talk about with you.”

“What is it, Ma ?” aiked the boy.

“I am intending to marry Doctor Jones in a few days, and——­”

“Bully for you.  Ma, Does Doctor Jones know it ?”

Of Course

The morning class had been duly instructed and enlightened upon the subject of our national independence.  Feeling sure she had made a real and lasting impression with her explanations and blackboard illustrations the young teacher began with the usual round of questions: 

“Now, Sammy Smith, where was the Declaration of Independence signed?”

Sammy, with a shout of glee:  “At de bottom, ma’am—­that’s what you said!”

He Had Certainly Met Him

A traveler going to New Zealand was asked by a friend if he would inquire, while there, as to the whereabouts of the friend’s grandfather, Jeremiah Thompson.

“Certainly,” said the traveler, and wherever he went he asked for news of the ancestor, but without avail.

One day he was introduced to a fine old Maori of advanced age.  “Did you ever meet with an Englishman named Jeremiah Thompson?” he asked.

A smile passed over the Maori’s face.  “Meet him?” he repeated.  “Why, I ate him!”

No Place Like Home

A Bostonian died, and when he arrived at St. Peter’s gate he was asked the usual questions: 

“What is your name, and where are you from ?”

The answer was, “Mr. So-and-So, from Boston.”

“You may come in,” said St. Peter, “but I know you won’t like it.”

She Felt Bad When Well

An old lady, really quite well, was always complaining and “enjoying poor health,” as she expressed it.  Her various ailments were to her the most interesting topic in the world.  One day a neighbor found her eating a hearty meal, and asked her how she was.

“Poor me,” she sighed, “I feel very well, but I always feel bad when I feel well, because I know I am going to feel worse afterward.”