SOME GOOD STORIES.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LII, Issue 343, 19 March 1910, Page 9

SOME GOOD STORIES.

THE SUAVE OMENTAL. Admiral Sail, who is now in England in connection with the reorganisation of the Chinese Navy, once had the misfortune to lose a cruiser. On his reporting the wreck to the Chinese Admiralty, he received a letter thanking him for doing so, and pointing out that as the cruiser was getting somewhat worn out, a replace cruiser would be much more useful. Would he, therefore, at his private expense, buy the new cruiser as quickly as possible!

A DARLING STORY.

Onc.e during the progress of a certain case, Sir Charles Darling remonstrated with a barrister for the way in which he was arguing a point. "You will pardon me, my lord," said the latter, "but perhaps I may remind you that you argued a case in a similar way yourself when you were at the Bar."

"Yes, I admit it," replied his lordship, with a quiet smile, "but that was the fault of the judge who allowed it."

ROUGH ON THE MISSIONARIES,

The late Dr. Vaughan was great on educational works of all kinds, and at one time he prepared some men of color to be missionaries, whom his mother, Mrs. Vaughan, one day asked to dinner. After 'waiting an hour without the appearance of a single guest, she remarked to the butler that this was "very odd."

"Yes, ma'am," replied the butler, "and what's still odder is that I've been doing nothing all the evening but turn Christy Minstrels away from the door!"

A "BLOOD AND WHISKY" ELECTION. In connection with the candidature of Lord Charles Beresford in York in 1897, a previous contest in 1826, in which a Beresford was the candidate, was recalled, the amount spent by him being put at £30,000. An old fellow who met the Admiral said to him, "Lard Charles, ye're no man!" "I don't agree with you,", said the candidate, "but why d'ye say that?" "Yerra, the larsht time a Beresford shtud," he replied, "it's up to me knees I was in blood and whisky, but niver a dhrop of ayther have I seen this toime." WHERE THE BUTTONS ARE. .Miss Ada Reeve, the well-known actress, is very fond of little children—she has two little girls herself—and she tells, one good story of one little boy which is worth repeating. "The little boy in question was being examined one day in natural history," she says, "and on being asked ii he knew the one great difference between himself and a big i-own' bear, he only knawed the end of His pen and grunted. "'Well, you see,' said the teacher, encouragingly, 'you can take your warm little coat off, but a bear can't take off his coat, can he?' "No,' said Tommy grudgingly. "'And do you know why he can't?' was the next question. "'I suppose,' said Tommy, after thinking for several minutes, 'it's because Heaven alone knows where the buttons are!'"

BAD SCOUTING. The Birmingham Lost Property Office has just been the means of clearing up a nice little derangement of affairs, in which a scout was concerned. A company of scouts were ordered to assemble at a certain spot near the confines of the city. In order that the assembly should not prove an obstruction to the ordinary traffic, the lads took up their position on one side of Ihe road near a cab rank, and here, whilst waiting the word to file off, they deposited their haversacks on the ground by the side of them.

The order to move off came rapidly, and the lads, snatching up their bags, hastened away. When in the train, and near the end of the journey, one lad discovered that instead of his bag he had a bag of horse provender. In his haste he had unconsciously picked up the bag containing fodder for the cab horse near which he had been stationed at the hackney carriage rank; but the Lost Property Office eventually enabled him to effect an exchange for his own luggage.

This story was told by a friend, of the lady to whom it happened, a Mrs. S., who at the time of Garibaldi's triumphal visit to London was one of his chief hostesses.

Of course, the General always, wore the famous red shirt, and gradually Mrs. S. noticed that the shirt got grimier and grimier, and at last came to the conclusion that he had but the one.

This was awkward, as he wore it always, from morning till night, for dinner parties and for breakfast. She decided it must be washed, so arranged one evening the family, should retire early, the maids have boiling water ready, and after about an hour the man-servant was to creep gently into Garibaldi's room (hoping he would be asleep), abstract the shirt, get it washed, and take it back early with the water next morning. All worked well, the party separated early, and Mrs. S. came down next morning hoping to see a really clean shirt at last. To her dismay it appeared dirtier and floppier than before. After breakfast she called the servant and remarked: ■ '■

"How very annoying that the washing was not managed?- How was it? I suppose the General was still awake! We shall have to try another time." The man smiled respectfully, and replied: "Oh, no, ma'am, that wasn't it. I waited some time, and then went in softly, but the General was fast asleep, but—h e had the shirt on!"

Mr. Andrew Carnegie is amusing his friends with the story of an old Scottish woman who had no great liking for church music.

One day she was expressing her dislike of the singing of an anthem in her own church when a friend said:

"Why, that anthem is a very ancient one. David sang it to Saul." "Weel, weel,' said the old woman, "1 noo for the first time understan' why Saul threw his javelin at David when he sang it to him.' J

Irish wit of the genuine kind is not extinct in Ireland, and it is not likely to become so, if we may judge from' the sayings of some of the present generation. An Irish school inspector was examining a class in geogrpahy. Tie had propounded a question regarding longitude, and received a correct answer from the lad undergoing the ordeal. "And now," he said, "what is latitude?"

After a brief silence, a bright youngster, with a merry twinkle in his eye, said: "Please, sir, we have no latitude in Ireland. Father says the British Government won't allow us any!"