The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1898-12-15
IN A JOKE FACTORY.
AN HOUR SPENT WITH MARSHALL p
WILDER.

Department.
The public is pretty well acquainted
with Marshall p. Wilder as humorlst
and entertainer; but people who have
heard him run wild in an evening of
miscellaneous funmaking are hardly
prepared to be told that he is one of
the most methodlcal and systematic
of mortals.
The late William Davidge, the actor,
was one of the most systematic men
that ever lived. He was constantly
keeping books with himself. If he in
vested five cents in carfare, bought a
newspaper, had a shave, shampoo, or
haircut, 1t all went down in his books.
When he died it was disclosed that he
had kept an itemiZed account of every
penny earned and expended, and
record Of every mile Travelled during
the twenty-five years and more that
he was on the stage, up to the very
day of his death on board n railroad
train, en- route to play in San Fran
cisco. BY examining this wonderful
record one could see exactly where
Davidge was on any given day dur
ing his long professional career, and
how much it cost him.
Mr. Wilder's system does not include
the petty outlays of everyday life, but
he has way of systematizing his bus
mess that is hardly less complete than
that of Davidge. All the good jokes,
stories, and anecdotes, for example, he
labels and lays away, as bugologist
would a strange new specimen of
beetle or butterfly. 1t can be said of
Wilder that he can put his hand on
any particular joke or story at any
hour of the night without striking a
match. He has Jokes and jokelets,
stories and anecdotes labeled, indexed
and cross-indeXed, and can turn in
stantly to any given dog or cat story
of any stated breed or color.
The little joker's business system in
cludes an index of every person of
prominence he meets, and turning to
his books he can tell at glance just
how much he is indebted to any par
ticular individual for contributions to
his jund of jokes.
observation-disclosures" re-
fterated Wilder as he ran his twink
ling eyes down the long list of HIS;
at seems to me l have heard of that
name somewhere. All, here 1t Is.
Harrison, Benjamin, President of the
United States I was almost sure 1
had heard it somewhere"
Mr.. Wilder grew reminiscent for a
moment.
First time met Benjamin Harrison
was in the White House. I carried a
letter from his son. I didn't want an
office, had no claim to an Office, and of
course I was n little out of my atmos-
phere. How do you do, Mr.. Presi-
dent? How do you do, Mr.. Wilder?'
That was all. Not n joke or a funny
story. Not word about the weather.
Not word about the crops. I waited
long enough for the President to linn
with great dignity, pausing only long
enough in the waitingroom to request
Private Secretary Halford to kick me
with great severity"
Wilder had later meeting with
President Harrison, some of the par
ticulars of which are best told by an
other. 1t occurred when w. ]. Arkell
entertained President Harrison at Mt.
McGregor. Mr.. Wilder was one of the
guests. The party was on its way
down to the village. "Mr. President"
said the little humorist, with mock
gravity, 81 regret the fact exceedingly,
but | feel sure there will be a large
concourse of people down here to greet
me. l understand they have a brass
band and l fear they will raise a great
hullabaloo. l sincerely trust the cheer
ing and noise generally will not dis
turb your EXcellency."
When the party reached the foot of
the mountain there were carriages to
receive them. and the inevitable crowd
to cheer the President The band, of
course struck up Hail to the Chief"
BY some misunderstanding on the part
of the cabby who drove Wilder-or
was 1t by Wilder's own hocus pocus?
the crowd fell apart for him. Hats
were swung. handkerchiefs fiuttered,
and the air was split with cheers.
Wilder's quick wit enabled him to
seize the situation by the horns. Hat
in hand. he bowed to the right and
left, and, as they say on the stage,
"took the whole scene." The ovation
was all his own.
Wilder's joke foundry is an inter-
esting. place. The walls of his library
in The Alpine, on Broadway, are lit
orally papered with photographs Of
celebrated men and women, most of
which bear the autographs of the orlgi-
nails. with some pleasant greeting to
the "prince of entertainers" as Mr.
Cleveland dubbed him-"the entertain
er Of Princes"-as he dubbed himself.
"How are jokes made?"
Jokes are like poets" said Wilder,
"they are born, not made. They de-
velop. They evolute. There Is a grub
and then there is n butterfly. julius
Caesar compiled a book of puns. but
he never made joke. even though he
was the victim of few. Every great
event has its jokes. The greater the
event, no matter how serious. the more
til