So the next report to his father had these words:  “Vincent talks a great deal.”

Back came the report by mail duly signed, but with this written in red ink under the comment:  “You ought to hear his mother.”

An Endless Wash

In one of the lesser Indian hill wars an English detachment took an Afghan prisoner.  The Afghan was very dirty.  Accordingly two privates were deputed to strip and wash him.

The privates dragged the man to a stream of running water, undressed him, plunged him in, and set upon him lustily with stiff brushes and large cakes of white soap.

After a long time one of the privates came back to make a report.  He saluted his officer and said disconsolately: 

“It’s no use, sir.  It’s no use.”

“No use?” said the officer.  “What do you mean?  Haven’t you washed that Afghan yet?”

“It’s no use, sir,” the private repeated.  “We’ve washed him for two hours, but it’s no use.”

“How do you mean it’s no use ?” said the officer angrily.

“Why, sir,” said the private, “after rubbin’ him and scrubbin’ him till our arms ached I’ll be hanged if we didn’t come to another suit of clothes.”

Once Dead Always Dead

The hero of the play, after putting up a stiff fight with the villain, had died to slow music, says a storyteller in “The Chicago Tribune.”

The audience insisted on his coming before the curtain.

He refused to appear.

But the audience still insisted.

Then the manager, a gentleman with a strong accent, came to the front.

“Ladies an’ gintlemen,” he said, “the carpse thanks ye kindly, but he says he’s dead, an’ he’s goin’ to stay dead.”

Had to Get it Done Somehow

A little boy bustled into a grocery one day with a memorandum in his hand.

“Hello, Mr. Smith,” he said.  “I want thirteen pounds of coffee at 32 cents.”

“Very good,” said the grocer, and he noted down the sale, and put his clerk to packing the coffee.  “Anything else, Charlie?”

“Yes.  Twenty-seven pounds of sugar at 9 cents.”

“The loaf, eh?  And what else?”

“Seven and a half pounds of bacon at 20 cents.”

“That will be a good brand.  Go on.”

“Five pounds of tea at 90 cents; eleven and a half quarts of molasses at 8 cents a pint; two eight-pound hams at 21 1/4 cents, and five dozen jars of pickled walnuts at 24 cents a jar.”

The grocer made out the bill,

“It’s a big order,” he said.  “Did your mother tell you to pay for it?”

“My mother,” said the boy, as he pocketed the neat and accurate bill, “has nothing to do with this business.  It is my arithmetic lesson and I had to get it done somehow.”

A Personal Demonstration

Chatting in leisurely fashion with Prince Bismarck in Berlin Lord Russell asked the Chancellor how he managed to rid himself of importunate visitors whom he could not refuse to see, but who stuck like burrs when once admitted.