Best Short Stories

"Yes, dear," said the mother patiently, "but wait a day or so until she is just a little better."

Thomas seemed much dissatisfied at his mother's apparent lack of neighborly interest, and then something seemed to dawn upon him, for he blurted out:

"Mother, you needn't be afraid--it ain't catching."

MIGHT DRAW BUSINESS

Burton Holmes, the lecturer, had an interesting experience while in London. He told some Washington friends a day or two ago that when he visited the theatre where he was to deliver his travelogue he decided that the entrance to the theatre was rather dingy and that there should be more display of his attraction.

Accordingly, he suggested to the manager of the house that the front be brightened up at night by electrical signs, one row of lights spelling his name "Burton" and another row of lights spelling the name "Holmes."

The manager told him it was too much of an innovation for him to authorize and referred him to the owner of the theatre. Mr. Holmes traveled several hours into the country to consult with the owner, who referred him to his agent in the city. The agent in turn sent Mr. Holmes to the janitor of the theatre.

"I talked with the janitor and explained my plan to him for about an hour," Mr. Holmes said. "Finally, after we had gone into every detail of the cost and everything else, the janitor told me that the theatre was a very exclusive and high-class theatre, and that he would not put up the sign. I asked him why?"

"Because it would attract too much attention to the theatre," the janitor replied.

SAFE

The fine art of concealment is thus formulated by Carolyn Wells, writing in Life:

Once upon a time there lived an elderly millionaire who had four nephews. Desiring to make one of these his heir, he tested their cleverness.

He gave to each a one-hundred-dollar bill, with the request that they hide the bills for a year in the city of New York.

Any of them who should succeed in finding the hidden bill at the end of the year should share in the inheritance.

The year being over, the four nephews brought their reports.

The first, deeply chagrined, told how he had put his bill in the strongest and surest safety deposit vaults, but, alas, clever thieves had broken in and stolen it.

The second had put his bill in charge of a tried and true friend. But the friend had proved untrustworthy and had spent the money.

The third had hidden his bill in a crevice in the floor of his room, but a mouse had nibbled it to bits to build her nest.

The fourth nephew calmly produced his hundred-dollar bill, as crisp and fresh as when it had been given him.

"And where did you hide it?" asked his uncle.

"Too easy! I stuck it in a hotel Bible."

COMPLIMENTS OF THE DAY

Soldiers have to do their own mending when it is done at all, and it appears--although few persons would have guessed it--that the thoughtful War Office supplies them with outfits for that purpose. Otherwise, this joke would be impossible.

Everything was ready for kit inspection; the recruits stood lined up ready for the officer, and the officer had his bad temper all complete. He marched up and down the line, grimly eyeing each man's bundle of needles and soft soap, and then he singled out Private MacTootle as the man who was to receive his attentions.

"Toothbrush?" he roared.

"Yes, sir."

"Razor?"

"Yes, sir."

"Hold-all?"

"Yes, sir."

"Hm! You're all right, apparently," growled the officer. Then he barked:

"Housewife?"

"Oh, very well, thank you," said the recruit amiably. "How's yours?"

MANNA

There is a story of Bransby Williams, famous impersonator of Dickens's characters, which will come home to many of us in these days of food shortage.

He had a hard time before he "arrived," and hunger was a familiar companion. One night he had to play in a sketch in which he was supposed to consume a steak pudding.

"Imagine my surprise," he says, "when a real, good, smoking hot steak and kidney pudding arrived on the scene. 'My eye!' I exclaimed to myself. I had to cut it and serve it, and in the ordinary course of events we should have got through this stage meal in about five or six minutes.

"But not to-night! I made up my mind that that pudding should not be wasted, but eaten, and I commenced in earnest. I made the best meal I had had for days, and improvised conversation till it was all polished off!"

SHE KNEW HIM

Mr. Budger and his wife were continually at variance regarding their individual capabilities of making and keeping a good fire. He contended that she did not know how to make a fire, nor how to keep one after it was made. She, on the other hand, maintained that he never meddled with the fire that he didn't put it out--in short, that he was a perfect fire damper; and, as he was always anxious to stir up things in the varous fireplaces, she made a practice of hiding the poker just before it was time for him to come into the house. One night there was an alarm of fire in the village and Budger flew for his hat and coat.

"Where are you going, my dear?" asked his wife.

"Why, there's a fire, and I'm going to help put it out."

"Well, my love," responded Mrs. Budger, "I think the best thing you can do is to take the poker along with you."

A GET-RICH-QUICK SCHEME

Two young Irishmen in a Canadian regiment were going into the trenches for the first time, and their captain promised them five shillings each for every German they killed.

Pat lay down to rest, while Mick performed the duty of watching. Pat had not lain long when he was awakened by Mick shouting:

"They're comin'! They're comin'!"

"Who's comin'?" shouts Pat.

"The Germans," replies Mick.

"How many are there?"

"About fifty thousand."

"Begorra," shouts Pat, jumping up and grabbing his rifle, "our fortune's made!"

A FLATTERING EXPLANATION

A sturdy Scot, 6 feet 5 inches in height, is a gamekeeper near Strafford. One hot day last summer he was accompanying a bumptious sportsman, of very small stature, when he was greatly troubled by gnats. The other said to him:

"My good man, why is it that the gnats do not trouble me?"

"I daresay," replied the gamekeeper, with a comprehensive glance at the other's small proportions, "it will be because they havna' seen ye yet!"

DIDN'T SUIT HIM

Tim Casey, a juror, rose suddenly from his seat and hastened to the door of the courtroom. He was prevented, however, from leaving the room, and was sternly questioned by the judge.

"Yes, your honor, I'll explain meself," said the juror. "When Mr. Finn finished his talking me mind was clear all through, but whin Mr. Evans begins his talkin' I becomes all confused an' says I to meself, Taith, I'd better lave at once, an' shtay away until he is done,' because, your honor, to tell the truth, I didn't like the way the argument was going."

ON HER NERVES

The local pawnbroker's shop was on fire, and among the crowd of spectators was an old woman who attracted much attention by her sobs and cries of despair.

"What is the matter with you?" a fireman said. "You don't own the shop, do you?"

"No," she wailed, "but my old man's suit is pawned there, and he don't know it."

CASH

We cannot deny that one of the great questions of the day among tradespeople is how to get their bills paid. Neither can we deny that we have all been over-extravagant. This little story (which is really a satire) contains its moral.

One bright morning Mr. Dobson, an American gentleman in excellent circumstances, and yet (quite singular to relate of any American gentleman!) constantly harried by his bills, conceived of a brilliant idea. Thereupon he said to Mrs. Dobson:

"My dear, let us pay cash for one day."

"How absurd!"

"It may seem so, but you must admit that it is a brand-new idea, and therefore worth while for you, as a modern woman, to try."

This was the only possible way in which the astute Mr. Dobson could have persuaded his wife to try his ideas. They both agreed, and he gave her a hundred dollars in bright, new bills. Taking the same amount himself, he began his day.

It would be easily possible for us to make a story out of this by recording the incidents of that day. But they would be too painful for modern readers, who insist upon being amused. Sufficient is it to observe that at night the Dobsons met each other face to face.

"I have been grossly insulted by four people," said Mrs. Dobson, who looked very much the worse for wear. "By a saleswoman in a department store, my milliner, my shoemaker, and my glovemaker. I offered them all cash, and it will take years to reinstate myself with them again."

"I got in wrong with my haberdasher and my hatter," said Dobson, "and then quit for the day. I didn't have the courage to attempt to buy anything more. Your people, by the way, sent collectors to collect last month's bills. Also, I calculated this afternoon that if we should pay cash for everything, it would cost me twice my income."

"How much does it cost now?"

"I don't know--that's the strange part of it. But, my dear, isn't it worthwhile to learn something, even by making such a mistake?"

At this point Mrs. Dobson, who had been softly shedding tears, braced up and impulsively put her arms about her erring husband's neck.

"Never mind, dear," she said, "we must face this together. We are probably ruined, but we are both comparatively young, and we will live it down side by side."

TOO MUCH

In these days of the conservation of fuel no wonder a certain gentleman was disturbed.

"You've made a mistake in your paper," said this indignant man, entering the editorial sanctum of a daily paper. "I was one of the competitors at that athletic match yesterday, and you have called me 'the well-known light-weight champion.'"

"Well, aren't you?" inquired the editor.

"No, I'm nothing of the kind, and it's confoundedly awkward, because I'm in the coal business."

MISTAKEN IDENTITY?

A kindergarten teacher entering a street-car saw a gentleman whose face seemed familiar, and she said, "Good evening!"

He seemed somewhat surprised, and she soon realized that she had spoken to a stranger. Much confused, she explained: "When I first saw you I thought you were the father of two of my children."

THIS HAPPENED IN CHICAGO

Some time after the Civil War James Russell Lowell was asked to go to Chicago to deliver a political speech upholding the Republican Party. It was a great occasion, for Russell was easily the foremost literary and political figure of the day, and his coming was widely advertised. But at the last moment, just before the address was to be delivered, for certain political reasons it was deemed inexpedient by the managers of the affair to have Russell talk politics, and so a hurried announcement was made that Mr. Russell, instead of speaking on the issues of the day, would deliver his celebrated lecture on Shakespeare. This he did, it having been correctly described by critics as the best lecture on the great poet ever delivered.

After the lecture was over, however, one of the Chicago politicians, who doubtless had never heard of Shakespeare, was in his disappointment led to exclaim:

"Hum! I suppose he thought anything was good enough for us!"

HAD HEARD HIM BEFORE

The critical instinct grows by what it is fed upon. No matter how well you may do, some people are never satisfied and this is especially true in families.

A Philadelphia divine was entertaining a couple of clergymen from New York at dinner. The guests spoke in praise of a sermon their host had delivered the Sunday before. The host's son was at the table, and one of the New York clergymen said to him: "My lad, what did you think of your father's sermon?"

"I guess it was very good," said the boy, "but there were three mighty fine places where he could have stopped."

HER DOMESTIC INSTINCTS

We must not always look down upon those innocent people who may not have had the same cultural influences we have had, although it is some difficult not to smile at their point of view:

Sir Frederick Kenyon, the Director of the British Museum and a man of great knowledge, has had all sorts of funny experiences with visitors there.

Once he was showing a distinguished lady visitor some of the priceless treasures of which he is the custodian, but for a long time nothing seemed to interest her very much.

Then suddenly he noticed a change. Her face lighted up and she leaned forward.

"What is it, madam?" asked Sir Frederick, gratified at this tardy sign of awakening appreciation. "Pray do not hesitate to ask if there is anything you would like to know."

"So good of you!" chirruped the lady. "I wish you would tell me what brand of blacklead you use on those iron ventilators that are let into the floor. We have the same sort of things at my house, but my maids never get them to shine half so brilliantly."

LAST RESORT

Anybody who, a stranger, has tried to find his way about Boston will understand the experience of Mr. Hubb, a native who was addressed by his friend Mr. Penn, from Philadelphia.

"They say," remarked Mr. Penn, "the streets in Boston are frightfully crooked."

"They are," replied Mr. Hubb. "Why, do you know, when I first went there I could hardly find my way around."

"That must be embarrassing."

"It is. The first week I was there I wanted to get rid of an old cat we had, and my wife got me to take it to the river a mile away."

"And you lost the cat all right?"

"Lost nothing! I never would have found my way home if I hadn't followed the cat!"

LOOKED THAT WAY

Doris was radiant over a recent addition to the family, and rushed out of the house to tell the news to a passing neighbor.

"Oh, you don't know what we've got upstairs."

"What is it?" the neighbor asked.

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