Best Short Stories

"A new baby brother," said Doris, and she watched very closely the effect of her announcement.

"You don't say so," the neighbor exclaimed. "Is he going to stay?"

"I think so," said Doris. "He's got his things off."

COMRADES

In a trench over in Flanders, during a slight lull in the engagement, a soldier was making an impromptu toilet. He lowered his head for an instant and thereby caught a cootie. As he did so, a shell fragment flew by, just where his head had been. He held the cootie in hand meditatively for a moment, and then said:

"Old fellow, Oi cawnt give you the Victoria Cross, but I can put you back!"

COMPARISON

One of the ladies who first introduced interpretative dancing--whatever that is--into this country has fleshened up considerably since the days of her initial terpsichorean triumphs among the society folk along the eastern sea-board. Nevertheless, she continues to give performances to select audiences of artistic souls.

Not long ago Finley Peter Dunne, the humorist, was lured to one of these entertainments. The lady, wearing very few clothes, and, as a result of their lack, looking even plumper than usual, danced in an effect of moonlight calcium beams.

As Dunne was leaving, one of the patronesses hailed him.

"Oh, Mr. Dunne," she twittered, "how did you enjoy the madame's dancing?"

"Immensely," said Dunne. "Made me think of Grant's Tomb in love."

"NEXT!"

The wonders of modern science never cease to be of absorbing interest and even the following story, which is supposed to take place in the near future, may be more realistic than we now think possible, although it is rather hard on our good friends the doctors.

"Be seated, sir," said the distinguished practitioner.

The man who had entered the doctor's office a few moments before in obedience to the invitation sank into a luxurious chair. The doctor looked at him casually, and, touching an indicator at the side of his desk, said:

"What a pleasant day."

"Yes, it is."

A nurse appeared at the door.

"Turn on number nine hundred and eleven," said the doctor.

"Very well, sir."

The doctor turned to the patient.

"I heard a most amusing story the other day," he said.

"But--"

"Just a moment. I am quite sure you will be interested in hearing it," He told the story.

The patient stirred impatiently in the chair, although the story was amusing and he laughed at it.

"By the way," he began, looking at his watch.

The doctor got up. He turned off the switch at his desk.

"It is all right, sir. You may go now."

"But I came in to see you about--"

"Yes, the operation has been performed. I should be a little bit careful for a few days if I were you. Don't play golf or walk excessively."

"You mean to say that--"

"Your appendix has been removed in accordance with your symptoms."

The patient smiled incredulously.

"When did you do it?" he asked.

"While you were sitting there. Perfectly simple. It was absorbed."

"How did you know what was the matter with me?"

"That chair sends a record of your symptoms--in fact, diagnoses your case completely--to the laboratory. All you needed was to have your appendix removed, and by turning on number nine hundred and eleven it was absorbed in three minutes. Nothing strange, sir. Quite usual, I assure you."

The man got up. His face grew rather pale. He advanced to the desk.

"How much do I owe you?" he asked.

The doctor smiled again.

"That has all been arranged, sir."

"What do you mean?"

"According to the new State law which has just gone into effect, while you were being operated on your property was transferred to me. Good morning, sir. Call again."

MR. SUNSHINE AND MR. GLOOM

Changing others over to suit yourself is not always the easiest thing in the world, although it is often tried. The head of a large firm thought he would try it, and his experience is related by one of the "boys" in the office:

The old man--for we always referred to the head of the firm in this way--called the young fellow in to him one day and said:

"Look here, young man; you've got to be more agreeable. I want everybody in this place to have a smiling face. If I didn't think you had ability I would have fired you long ago. Your manners are bad. Make 'em better. Don't be a grouch."

The young chap didn't seem to take kindly to this advice. The frown on his face was still there. But he bowed and said:

"All right, sir."

Then the old man--for it was his busy morning--called another young fellow in and said:

"Look here, young man; I don't want you to be so genial. You're always telling funny stories around the place and waiting on the girls. Your sunny smile is all right, but you carry it too far. Why, when you come around everybody stops work. Get down to business."

"That reminds me, sir," said the young chap--but his employer waved him off.

"Do as I tell you," he said sternly, "or--"

At the end of another week the old man called them both into his office.

"Neither of you seems to be improving in the way I want. But I have an idea. I'm going to put your desks next to each other. That ought to do it. You're both good men, but you lean too far in the opposite directions. Run away now and act on each other."

At the end of still another week, however, when once more they both stood in front of him, he betrayed his disappointment.

"It doesn't seem to work," he exclaimed. "What's the matter with you boys, anyway? I thought my experiment would cure both of you, but it doesn't seem to work."

Turning to Mr. Sunshine, he said:

"Look here; why hasn't he done you any good?"

Mr. Sunshine beamed and chuckled.

"Well, sir," he said, "I can't help it. Why, that fellow over there hasn't got a thing in the world to worry him. He isn't married, his salary is really more than he needs. He has no responsibilities, and if he should die to-morrow nobody would suffer. But he hasn't got sense enough to have a good time. He strikes me as being such a joke that it makes me laugh harder than ever."

Turning to Mr. Gloom, the old man said:

"Well, how about you? Why hasn't this chap done you any good?"

Mr. Gloom looked more sour than ever.

"He hasn't the slightest idea of the problems that confront me," he said, "or what I suffer. But what really makes me mad is this: He has a wife and four young children on his hands, on the same salary I get. How they manage I don't know. It isn't living at all. And when I see a fellow like that, who ought to be worried to death all the time--and who would be if he looked the facts squarely in the face--grinning and telling stories like a minstrel, it makes me so d----d mad that I can't see straight."

HER OWN

There are certain family privileges which we all guard jealously:

An attorney was consulted by a woman desirous of bringing action against her husband for a divorce. She related a harrowing tale of the ill-treatment she had received at his hands. So impressive was her recital that the lawyer, for a moment, was startled out of his usual professional composure. "From what you say this man must be a brute of the worst type!" he exclaimed.

The applicant for divorce arose and, with severe dignity, announced: "Sir, I shall consult another lawyer. I came here to get advice as to a divorce, not to hear my husband abused!"

MARK TWAIN ON MILLIONAIRES

At one time in his varied career Mark Twain was not only poor, but he did not make a practice of associating with millionaires. The paragraph which follows is taken from an open letter to Commodore Vanderbilt. One paragraph of the "Open Letter" is worth embalming here:

Poor Vanderbilt! How I pity you: and this is honest. You are an old man, and ought to have some rest, and yet you have to struggle, and deny yourself, and rob yourself of restful sleep and peace of mind, because you need money so badly. I always feel for a man who is so poverty ridden as you. Don't misunderstand me, Vanderbilt. I know you own seventy millions: but then you know and I know that it isn't what man has that constitutes wealth. No--it is to be satisfied with what one has; that is wealth. As long as one sorely needs a certain additional amount, that man isn't rich. Seventy times seventy millions can't make him rich, as long as his poor heart is breaking for more. I am just about rich enough to buy the least valuable horse in your stable, perhaps, but I cannot sincerely and honestly take an oath that I need any more now. And so I am rich. But you, you have got seventy millions and you need five hundred millions, and are really suffering for it. Your poverty is something appalling. I tell you truly that I do not believe I could live twenty-four hours with the awful weight of four hundred and thirty millions of abject want crushing down upon me. I should die under it. My soul is so wrought upon by your helpless pauperism that if you came to me now, I would freely put ten cents in your tin cup, if you carry one, and say, "God pity you, poor unfortunate."

A MOVING TALE

Many a young man has succumbed to his environment. The hero of the following moving tale is no exception:

She was waiting for him at the station. It was two o'clock in the afternoon, and he had to go back that evening on the midnight train. He acted like a man in a dream, but, none the less, he appeared to know precisely what he was about.

As the train drew up the station was crowded. There she was in the midst of the crowd, smiling and beckoning to him. Without a moment's hesitation, and before she even realized what was happening, he sprang forward, put his arms around her, and planted a clinging kiss on her lips. She blushed intensely and whispered as well as she could:

"Oh, you mustn't!"

He made no reply. His eyes were fixed. Half frightened, she led the way to the motor car. They got in. He promptly took her hand. She attempted to motion to him that the chauffeur was in front and could see their reflection in the glass windshield. He merely threw both arms around her and almost crushed her, as he kissed her over and over again. Her face showed surprise and indignation.

"You mustn't! We're not engaged."

"As if that mattered," he muttered, taking another kiss.

The motor car arrived at her home. They got out. They entered the house. Her mother came forward to receive them. Suddenly, without warning, he sprang forward and kissed her, throwing his arms about her like a cyclone. Her mother, attempting to free herself, gasped. This young man--whom she scarcely knew! The girl herself stared at him in open-eyed astonishment.

At this moment the maid entered the room. As she stepped forward the young man caught sight of her. Wasting no time, and before the surprised mother and daughter could stop him, he had folded the maid in his arms and kissed her also. She screamed, and finally ran away.

There was an aunt visiting them. This gentle, middle-aged spinster was dozing in the next room. Aroused by the maid's screams, she hurried into the room. But no sooner did this remarkable young man visitor see her than he promptly grabbed her, and covered her face with kisses.

The girl's father all this time had been quietly smoking on the piazza. Hearing the commotion he hurried also into the room, just in time to see the spinster lady, almost fainting with terror, tear herself loose.

"He's been kissing every one of us," murmured the girl's mother. "There must be something the matter with him."

The girl's father caught the young man squarely by the shoulders and faced him about.

"He kissed me at the station--before everybody!" sobbed the girl. "Then he kissed mama and the maid and Aunt Jane."

"What is the meaning of this?" said the girl's father, sternly. "How dare you, sir, abuse our hospitality?"

The young man shuddered. His eyes closed. Still in the clutch of his host, there was a tragic silence. Then he opened them once more and gazed feebly about him. He passed his hand wearily over his forehead.

"Forgive me!" he whispered. "It is not my fault. I live in bachelor quarters in town. My friends had all gone away and there was nothing for me to do but go to the moving picture shows night after night. I have been doing this for weeks. In the moving pictures the young man hero kisses everybody he meets. It's the regular thing--nothing but kissing, kissing, all the time. My mind has been unhinged by it. Forgive me and take me to some asylum."

Then he burst into tears, threw his arms about the old gentleman--and kissed him, and they led the poor wretch away.

HISTORICAL

At a military church service during the South African War some recruits were listening to the chaplain in church saying, "Let them slay the Boers as Joshua smote the Egyptians," when a recruit whispered to a companion:

"Say, Bill, the old bloke is a bit off; doesn't he know it was Kitchener who swiped the Egyptians?"

MEMORIES

An American lady at Stratford-on-Avon showed even more than the usual American fervor. She had not recovered when she reached the railway station, for she remarked to a friend as they walked on the platform: "To think that it was from this very platform the immortal bard would depart whenever he journeyed to town!"

ECCLESIASTICAL DUES ENFORCED

"I canna get ower it," a Scotch farmer remarked to his wife. "I put a twa shillin' piece in the plate at the kirk this morning instead o' ma usual penny."

The beadle had noticed the mistake, and in silence he allowed the farmer to miss the plate for twenty-three consecutive Sundays.

On the twenty-fourth Sunday the farmer again ignored the plate, but the old beadle stretched the ladle in froat of him and, in a loud, tragic whisper, hoarsely said:

"Your time's up noo, Sandy."

STILL COMPANIONABLE

Jennie, the colored maid, arrived one morning with her head swathed in bandages--the result of an argument with her hot-tempered spouse.

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