Successful Recitations Part 33

"I see two fellows in a small room, smoking cigars and playing chess!" was the prompt reply.

"Saturn is 86,000,000 of miles from this town," continued the astronomer, "and yet the insignificant sum of ten cents has enabled this progressive young man to learn for himself that the celestial beings enjoy themselves pretty much as we do in this world. I venture to say that there is not a man in this crowd who ever knew before that the inhabitants of Saturn knew anything about chess or cigars."

Once more he wheeled the instrument round. This time it got the range of the upper storey of a tenement-house on the hill The young man had scarcely taken a glance through the tube, when he yelled out:--

"Great guns! But what planet is this?"

"You are now looking at Ura.n.u.s," replied the professor. "Ura.n.u.s is 97,502,304 miles distant from the earth, and yet I warrant that it doesn't appear over eighty rods away to you. Will you be kind enough, my friend, to tell this crowd what you see?"

"Give it to him! That's it! Go it old woman!" shouted the young man, slapping one leg and then the other.

"Speak up, my friend. What do you see?"

"By jove! she's got him by the hair now! Why, she'll beat him hollow!"

"Will you be kind enough, my friend, to allay the curiosity of your friends?"

"Whoop! that's it; now she's got him. Toughest fight I ever saw!"

cried the young man as he moved back and slapped his thigh.

The professor covered up the instrument slowly and carefully, picked up and unlocked a satchel which had been lying near his feet, and then softly said:--

"Gentlemen, we will pause here for a moment. When a man tells you after this that the planet of Saturn is not inhabited, tell him that you know better, that it is not only inhabited, but that the married couples up there have family fights the same as on this mundane sphere. In about ten minutes I will be ready again to explain the wonders and beauties of the sparkling heavens to such of you as prefer a million dollars' worth of scientific knowledge to ten cents in vile dross. Meanwhile permit me to call your attention to my celebrated toothache drops, the only perfect remedy yet invented for aching teeth."

BROTHER WATKINS.

BY JOHN B. GOUGH.

An old southern preacher, who had a great habit of talking through his nose, left one congregation and came to another. The first Sunday he addressed his new congregation he went on about as follows:--

My beloved brederin, before I take my text, I must tell you of parting with my old congregation-ah, on the morning of last Sabbath-ah I entered into my church to preach my farewell discourse-ah. Before me sat the old fadders and mothers of Israel-ah.

The tears course down their furrowed cheeks, their tottering forms and quivering lips breathed out a sad fare-ye-well Brother Watkins-ah.

Behind them sat middle-aged men and matrons, youth and vigour bloomed from every countenance, and as they looked up, I thought I could see in their dreamy eyes fare-ye-well Brother Watkins-ah.

Behind them sat the little boys and girls I had baptised and gathered into the Sabbath school. Ofttimes had they been rude and boisterous; but now their merry laugh was hushed and in the silence I could hear fare-ye-well Brother Watkins-ah.

Away in the back seats and along the aisles stood and sat the coloured bretherin with their black faces and honest hearts, and as they looked up I thought I could see in their eyes fare-ye-well Brother Watkins-ah.

When I had finished my discourse, and shaken hands with the bretherin-ah, I went out to take a last look at the church-ah, and the broken steps-ah, the flopping blinds-ah, and the moss-covered roof-ah, suggested fare-ye-well Brother Watkins-ah.

I mounted my old grey mare with all my earthly possessions in my saddle-bags, and as I pa.s.sed down the street the servant girls stood in the doors-ah and waved their brooms with a fare-ye-well Brother Watkins-ah.

As I pa.s.sed out of the village, I thought I could hear the wind-ah moaning through the waving branches of the trees, fare-ye-well Brother Watkins-ah.

I came on to the creek, and as the old mare stopped to drink I thought I could hear the water rippling over the pebbles, fare-ye-well Brother Watkins-ah. Even the little fishes-ah, as their bright fins glistened in the sunlight-ah, gathered round to say as best they could, fare-ye-well Brother Watkins-ah.

I was slowly pa.s.sing up the hill meditating-ah on the sad vicissitudes of life-ah, when out bounded a big hog from the fence corner-ah with an a-boo a-boo and I came to the ground-ah, with my saddle bags-ah by my side-ah, and as the old mare ran up the hill-ah, she waved her tail back at me-ah seemingly to say-ah, fare-ye-well Brother Watkins-ah.

LOGIC.

ANONYMOUS.

I. HER RESPECTABLE PAPA'S.

"My dear, be sensible! Upon my word, This--for a woman even--is absurd.

His income's not a hundred pounds, I know.

He's not worth loving."--"But I love him so."

II. HER MOTHER'S.

"You silly child, he is well made and tall; But looks are far from being all in all.

His social standing's low, his family's low.

He's not worth loving."--"And I love him so."

III. HER ETERNAL FRIEND'S.

"Is that he picking up the fallen fan?

My dear! he's such an awkward, ugly man!

You must be certain, pet, to answer 'No.'

He's not worth loving."--" And I love him so."

IV. HER BROTHER'S.

"By jove! were I a girl--through horrid hap-- I wouldn't have a milk-and-water chap.

The man has not a single spark of 'go.'

He's not worth loving."--" Yet I love him so."

V. HER OWN.

"And were he everything to which I've listened, Though he were ugly, awkward (and he isn't), Poor, lowly-born, and dest.i.tute of 'go,'

He _is_ worth loving, for I love him so."

THE PRIDE OF BATTERY B.

BY F.H. Ga.s.sAWAY.