=Humor in its manifestations.=—­A sense of humor diffuses itself through all the activities of life, giving to them all a gentle quality that eliminates asperities and renders them gracious and amiable.  Like fireflies that bespangle the darkness of the night, humor scintillates through all life’s phases and activities and causes the day to go more pleasantly and effectively on.  It twinkles through the thoughts and gives to language a sparkle and a nicety that cause it to appeal to the artistic sense.  It gives to discourse a piquancy that stimulates but does not irritate.  It is the flavor that gives to speech its undulatory quality, and redeems it from desert sameness.  It pervades the motives and gives direction as well as a pleasing fertility to all behavior.  It is pervasive without becoming obtrusive.  It steals into the senses as quietly as the dawn and causes life to smile.  Wit may flash, but humor blithely glides into the consciousness with a radiant and kindly smile upon its face.  Wit may sting and inflame, but humor soothes and comforts.  The man who has a generous admixture of humor in his nature is an agreeable companion and a sympathetic friend to grown-up people, to children, and to animals.  His spirit is genial, and people become kindly and magnanimous in his presence.

=One of John B. Gough’s stories.=—­The celebrated John B. Gough was wont to tell a story that was accounted one of his many masterpieces.  It was a story of a free-for-all convention where any one, according to inclination, had the privilege of freely speaking his sentiments.  When the first speaker had concluded, a man in the audience called lustily for a speech from Mr. Henry.  Then another spoke, and, again, more lustily than before, the man demanded Mr. Henry.  More and more vociferous grew the call for Mr. Henry after each succeeding speech until, at last, the chairman with some acrimony exclaimed:  “The man who is calling for Mr. Henry will please be quiet.  It is Mr. Henry who is now speaking.”  The man thus rebuked was somewhat crestfallen, but managed to say, as if in a half-soliloquy:  “Mr. Henry!  Why, that ain’t Mr. Henry.  That’s the little chap that told me to holler.”

At the conclusion of one of his lectures in which Mr. Gough told this story in his inimitable style, a man came to the platform and explained to him that he had a friend who seemed to lack a sense of humor and wondered if he might not prevail upon Mr. Gough to tell him this particular story in the hope that it would cause him to laugh.  In a spirit of adventure Mr. Gough consented, and at the time appointed told the story to the old gentleman in his own best style.  The old gentleman seemed to be deeply interested, but at the conclusion of the story, instead of laughing heartily as his friend had hoped, he solemnly asked, “What did he tell him to holler fur?”