Toaster's Handbook Part 182

During the course of conversation between two ladies in a hotel parlor one said to the other: "Are you married?" "No, I am not," replied the other. "Are you?"

"No," was the reply, "I, too, am on the single list," adding: "Strange that two such estimable women as ourselves should have been overlooked in the great matrimonial market! Now that lady," pointing to another who was pa.s.sing, "has been widowed four times, two of her husbands having been cremated. The woman," she continued, "is plain and uninteresting, and yet she has them to burn."

WIND

VISITOR--"What became of that other windmill that was here last year?"

NATIVE--"There was only enough wind for one, so we took it down."

Whichever way the wind doth blow Some heart is glad to have it so; Then blow it east, or blow it west, The wind that blows, that wind is best.

--_Caroline A. Mason_.

WINDFALLS

A Nebraska man was carried forty miles by a cyclone and dropped in a widow's front yard. He married the widow and returned home worth about $30,000 more than when he started.

WINE

When our thirsty souls we steep, Every sorrow's lull'd to sleep.

Talk of monarchs! we are then Richest, happiest, first of men.

When I drink, my heart refines And rises as the cup declines; Rises in the genial flow, That none but social spirits know.

To-day we'll haste to quaff our wine, As if to-morrow ne'er should s.h.i.+ne; But if to-morrow comes, why then-- We'll haste to quaff our wine again.

Let me, oh, my budding vine, Spill no other blood than thine.

Yonder br.i.m.m.i.n.g goblet see, That alone shall vanquish me.

I pray thee, by the G.o.ds above, Give me the mighty howl I love, And let me sing, in wild delight.

"I will--I will be mad to-night!"

When Father Time swings round his scythe, Intomb me 'neath the bounteous vine, So that its juices red and blythe, May cheer these thirsty bones of mine.

--_Eugene Field_.

_See also_ Drinking.

WISHES

George Was.h.i.+ngton drew a long sigh and said: "Ah wish Ah had a hundred watermillions."

Dixie's eyes lighted. "Hum! Dat would suttenly be fine! An' ef yo' had a hundred watermillions would yo' gib me fifty?"

"No, Ah wouldn't."

"Wouldn't yo' give me twenty-five?"

"No, Ah wouldn't gib yo' no twenty-five."

Dixie gaxed with reproachful eyes at his close-fisted friend. "Seems to me, you's powahful stingy, George Was.h.i.+ngton," he said, and then continued in a heartbroken voice. "Wouldn't yo' gib me one?"

"No, Ah wouldn't gib yo' one. Look a' heah, n.i.g.g.e.r! Are yo' so good for nuffen lazy dat yo' cahn't wish fo' yo' own watermillions?"

"Man wants but little here below Nor wants that little long,"

'Tis not with me exactly so; But'tis so in the song.

My wants are many, and, if told, Would muster many a score; And were each a mint of gold, I still should long for more.

--_John Quincy Adams_.

WITNESSES

"The trouble is," said Wilkins as he talked the matter over with his counsel, "that in the excitement of the moment I admitted that I had been going too fast, and wasn't paying any attention to the road just before the collision. I'm afraid that admission is going to prove costly."

"Don't wory about that," said his lawyer. "I'll bring seven witnesses to testify that they wouldn't believe you under oath."

On his eighty-fourth birthday, Paul Smith, the veteran Adirondock hotel-keeper, who started life as a guide and died owning a million dollars' worth of forest land, was talking about boundary disputes with an old friend.

"Didn't you hear of the lawsuit over a t.i.tle that I had with Jones down in Malone last summer?" asked Paul. The friend had not heard.

"Well," said Paul, "it was this way. I sat in the court room before the case opened with my witnesses around me. Jones busted in, stopped, looked my witnesses over carefully, and said: 'Paul, are those your witnesses?' 'They are,' said I. 'Then you win,' said he. 'I've had them witnesses twice myself.'"