Holbrook argus., 1901-08-17
GOOD
Short Stories

Two ladies contended for precedence
in the court of Charles the Fifth. They
appealed to the monarch, who, like Sol
onion, awarded: Let the eldest go
first" S.Ich a dispute was never known
afterward.
Henry j. Byron, or of the wittiest of
English playwrights of a score of years
ago. remarked on one occasion: "a play
is like a cigar. If it's good, everybody
wants a box. If it's bad, all the puff
fling in the world won't make it CO."
According to NJ. A. P, the naivette
and uneXpectedness which make the
chief charm of children's prattle was
amusingly illustrated the other evening
in the drawing-room of Mrs. Beerbohm
Tree, wife of the noted English actor.
Her little daughter was helping to en-
terrain some visitors, and the talk was
running generally on theatrical mat
ters. A good-natured friend, wishing
to bring the little lady into it, said:
and you, my dear, suppose you in
tend to be Il great actress when you
grow up?" ooh, no; not at all" replied
the child; mamma intends me to
marry"
Parson Brownlow, the famous
preacher, editor, and patriot, is describ-
ed by DR.. William e. Barton, author of
"a Hero in Homespun," as the very in
carnation of East Tennessee's rudeness,
strength, and exalted love Of country
and of right EFF hit warn't that he's
a preacher" says one of the characters,
you wouldn't know sometimes w'eth-
er he's a-prayin' or a-quotin' scripter
chapter an varse, or JUS plain every
day sorter cusSin'." BroWnlOW wrote
to Secretary Benjamin at Richmond:
Just give me my passports and will
do for your Confederacy more than the
devil has ever done-I will quit the
country"
Andrew Carnegie is fond of quoting
the witty remark made by an old friend
of his in Pittsburg, who for some time
held the record for fast horses, but was
one day beaten in brush by a young
man. The old gentleman disappeared
for some time. He had gone to Ken
lucky to get a horse that would re-es-
tablish his supremacy. He was being
shown over a stud, and had already
gone past a long string of horses with
their records on the stall and the vic
tories they had won. Then he was
taken through a long line of young
horses with their pedigrees, from which
the dealer was proving what they were
going to do when they got on the track.
The old gentleman, wiping his fore
head-for it was a hot day-suddenly
turned 10 the dealer, and said: "Look
here, stranger-yOu've shown me have
beens,' and you've let me see your go
ing to-be's,' but what am here for is
an User"
In his volume of "reminiscences, 'The
Eccentricities of Genius" Major Pond
tells the following story of Clara Louise
kellogg: ION our arrival at st. Paul,
while waiting in the hotel parlors to be
assigned to our rooms, William, our
piano-tuner, came to me with tears
running down his face. He was in deep
: distress. He must leave US at once
and go back to New York. His brother
had died. Miss Kellogg, seeing the poor
fellow, Immediately came to his relief.
What is it, William she asked. My
brother is dead. 1 must go home
When did he die?' asked Miss Kellogg.
L did not get the letter until just now,
1t has been forwarded from Omaha.
, He has been buried two weeks Miss
Kellogg tried to persuade him that he
| could be of no assistance in hurrying
home now, that in a short time we
would all be back, and he would be
better off to remain with the company.
Besides, we could not spare him, as
there was no one to take his place. He
, was persistent, being a superstitious
: young German. Miss Kellogg said at
t last: Now, William, come with me.
: She walked out with him to dry goods
l store, bought q piece of black crepe
= and tied it on his arm in a very elab-
/ crate bow. She made him get a silk
D hat and have it trimmed with crepe
In half an hour William was back
7 among us, decorated in full mourning
= and completely consoled. The entire
: company We're sympathizing with him
y He was almost happy, and the rest OF
us We're satisfied and pleased"