The Cairo bulletin. (Cairo, Ill.) 1???-1928, 1913-04-21
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
"and old jokes?" Why should not the
crown of Immortality be openly placed
upon the honored hero of an ancient
anecdote? Why do We insist upon
having our factious stories served lice
our buekwheat cakes, hot and fresh?
Why do we sneeringly stigmatize a
"twice-told" Jest as a Chestnut and
'bromide?" Why do we shun the
companionship of the unfortunate
wretch who repeats his storles2 Why
is such a repetition regarded as a
certain symptom or senile dementia?
Why has the name of Joseph Miller"
become byword?
A man may repeat 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 its 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 good joke is as inn
mortal as a good book. Nay. it 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 Aristsphanes; 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 progenitors. Another
ioly nf he ifaL von l1af MI c
is to take a story and foster it upon
some individual who has secured O
passing reputation for humor.
The higher critics say that Solo
mon did not compose the book Of
Proverbs, He established local rep
utatlon and every obscure fellow in
the kingdom who wanted to float his
scanty stock of wisdom put the kings
label on it, And the modern funny
man takes an ancient joke and sad
dies il upon Lincoln, Read, Depew OF
Mark Twain.
Our genial philosopher, Mr. Dooley
says: THE last man that makes a
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
timperishable iests that filled the van.
shed with "unextinguishable laugh.
ter?" Let us add to the joyous trim
&ity of old books, wine and friends
the sweet companionship Of old sto,
ries.