San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1897-05-16
MOTLEY MUSINGS.
In Poetry and Prose, Written for the
Sunday Light by QuerQue.

Wit must be fresh as an Omelett, and
bright as a child's smile. 1t can no
more be made to order than brains.
Society has many pests-the tedious
| talker, the bad dancer, the amateur
| tenor; but the greatest of all is the
would-be comic man.
He twists your lightest word to form
| the heaviest pun, and spoils your
smartest story to drag in a play on
words, which, like a joke in a Greek
play, requires foot-note to mark its
| whereabouts.
| The man who, without any warning,
Greets you early in the morning
I've heard, my friend, your herd of
deer,
rs merely drinking in the mere.
1T staggers me to always find,
They leave the ladies all behind"
Or he will supplement all his ans
wers with some crooked smile. You
remark innocently Pm off to Naples"
He replies at once, rs it possible? as
the lady said when her lover sang fly
with me now
You are very pressing" the joker
Cried
LAS the nut remarked when by crack
ers piled.
II much regret I'm unable to wait;
LAS the butler said when he dropped
the plate.
I'm hundred pears it will be just the
same;
LAS the cactus said when it's blossom
came.
It's the long suspense I chiefly fear;
"As the victim said in the hangmans
ear"
Or he loves inversion and tells you
that, like Esau, he has sold his pot
right for birth of passage.
Sometimes outraged etymology is re-
Venged and brings in her anomalies
appropriately, like dog in church;
as when the emotional and dramatic
reciter acclaimed
Go thy liver loves" cried Cromwell,
"Curfew shall not ring tonight"
Or the eloquent preacher who extend
ed his large hands over the edge of the
pulpit and said impressively, Pause,
my brethren, pause!'
If you wished to speak of summer
With it's wealth of flowers and beer
How unfortunate the blunder
Should you talk of bowers and fleas!
Or if walking in the garden
Seeking out some easy nook,
How sad to ask lady
To repair to nosey cooks!
Or if concentrating beautV
You should feel some half-formed
wish,
How hard might be you wooing
If you said half-warmed fish!
Worse than all, if, as a poet,
You described some weary bench,
How very unpoetic
If you said some berry wench.
Then comes the practical joker; so
called, because, like most practical |
people he is particularly unpleasant. |
He pulls away your chair, puts paper |
in your pipe, places a hat for you to |
sit on, or passes you salt in7tead of !
sugar. You do not see the joke your |
self; but other people do.
The unconscious practical humorist |
is the only specimen of this class who |
Is really amusing. He who wears |
strange garments and eccentric head |
gear; who carries an open umbrella |
when the rain has ceased, plays violin |
solos before he can tune the instru-
ment, takes amateur photographs of
his friends, woos in a railway car and
forgets the tunnel has passed, gets
married and responds to the toast of
a 10 s,,Nn he
the train moves out, tries to post a
letter in a fire alarm box, apologies
to the cigar store Indian, or holds a
lamp in his hand when he goes out to
see a comet.
Mirth and sadness are as closely
allied as great wit and madness. The
cannon of Waterloo broke the revelry
at the Duchess of Richmou Is ball and
the wise Egyptians brought round the
Corpses when the feast was at its
heighth. 1t is but a step from grave
to gay; a step farther from lively to
severe, and a step-mOther is worst of
all.
The brightest song the robin sings,
Dies in a single BREATH
So close to pleasure sorrow clings,
So near to life is death.
The maddeSt chorus men can shout,
Sounds in a most strange and hollow;
So near to feasting comes the gouU.
So close to drinking headaches follow.
Honest laughter is the champagne
of life that sets our blood dancing; our
pulses throbbing and thaws the trou-
ble-numbed nerves like summer sur
shine.
You cannot mistake the genuine
laugh. The forced laugh initiates t
as feebly as a rattle of theatre tni
resembles the roar of the cliff-bound
ocean.
"A man may smile and yet be a viii
liam" but he cannot laugh; for laugh
ter is the foam of a clear conscience
bright and light and pure.
1t is the very elixir of life warding
off old age, resisting trouble and anx-
iety, and happy is the man who