The Tupelo journal., 1913-08-08
HONOR FOR OLD JOKES
REALLY, HAVE THEY NOT a
GOOD CLAIM TO FRIENDSHIP
Old Books, Old Wines, Old Friends
Held Up to Reverence, Why Not
the Memory of Laughter OF
Past Years?

Why should we hail with such an
appreciative and sympathetic gusto to
poetic sentiment, "Old books, old wine
and old friends" and yet hesitate to
admit to that loving companionship
land old jokes?" Why should not the
crown of immortality be openly placed
upon the honored hero of an ancient
a%necdote? Why do we insist upon
having our factious stories served like
our buckwheat cakes, hot and fresh?
Why do we sneeringly stigmatize a
~"twice-told' jest as a chestnut" and
a "bromide?" Why do we shun the
companionship Of the unfortunate
wretch who repeats his stories? Why
Is such a repetition regarded as a
certain symptom of senile dementia!
Why has the name of Joseph Miller"
become a byword?
A man may repeat a thousand times
a gem from Milton or Shakespeare,
and society applauds his brilliancy, a
writer in the Boston Herald asserts.
Let him repeat an ancient bit of wit,
and youth shakes it's plying head, and
whispers, HE has fallen into his
anecdotage." AS the poet says,
There's something more than nat
ural in this if philosophy could find
it out" For a good joke is as i'm
mortal as a good book. Nay, 1t is a
rarer gem. For there are very few
jests of the first order of the world.
But whenever you find an anecdote
redolent with the exquisite aroma of
true comedy, you will almost always
find, after chemical analysis, that it
is an old friend in a new disguise.
Old jokes, like rare old masters, are
being constantly restored for the joy
of an unfamiliar age. We are laugh
ing today over jests that shook the
sides of Shakespeare and rare Ben
Johnson; nay, that wrinkled the face
of jolly Aristophanes; and have come
to us as precious heirlooms through
Rabelais and Boccaccio.
The very humorous journals that
despise the chestnut" and the BRO
mide" are serving us in the inter
stices stories, disguised in modern
slang, that are centuries old. A very
acute observer has confidently assert
ed that there are only seven original
funny stories in the world. The whole
brood of modern witticisms spring
from those few p%rogenitors. Another
common trick of the joke mechanics
is to take a story and foster it upon
-4r,. J,5siJ,,,l wh0 hoe cnNyyrod a
passing reputation for humor.
The higher critics say that Solo
mon did not compose the book of
Proverbs. He established a local rep
Gtasion and every obscure fellow In
the kingdom who wanted to float his
sscanty stock of wisdom put the kings
label on It. And the modern funny
man takes an ancient joke and sad
dies it upon Lincoln, Read, Depew or
Mark Twain.
Our genial philosopher, Mr.. Dooley,
says: THE last man that make q
joke owns It," Now, as the scripture
says, These things ought not to be-"
Why should these royal and imperial
jokes be disowned, stripped of their
kingly robes, and sneaked in through
the back door of modern life? What
crown jewels could equal in precious
ness one Of these original seven gems
of mirth, that were born when the
world was young? Why should we not
honor the old men who can recall the
imperishable jests that filled the van
ished with "unextinguishable laugh
teri" Let us add to the joyous trim
ity Of old books, wine and friends
the sweet companionship Of old sto