“Well, what do you want?” asked the conductor impatiently.
“Well,” said the old lady meditatively, “you may bring me a ham sandwich and a cup of tea, please.”
A parson had had a call from a little country parish to a large and wealthy one in a big city. He asked time for prayer and consideration. He did not feel sure of his light. A month passed. Some one met his youngest son. “How is it, Josiah; is your father going to B———?”
“Well,” answered the youngster judicially, “paw is still prayin’ for light, but most of the things is packed.”
Last Christmas a middle-aged tinplate-worker married a widow whose acquaintance he had made but a few weeks before while working some little distance away from home.
“Sarrah,” he said nervously, after the guests had departed, “I ’ave a weddin’ present for ye.”
“What is it, John?” said Sarrah with a smirk.
“I ’ope ye won’t be ’fended, Sarrah,” said John, more agitated than ever, “but it is—er—er—it is five of ’em.”
“Five children!” blurted out John desperately, anticipating a scene. “I didn’t tell ye I ’ad children—five of ’em.”
Sarrah took the news quite calmly; in fact, she appeared relieved.
“Oh, well, John,” she said, “that do make it easier for me to tell ye. Five is not so bad as me, watever. Seven I ’ave got!”
“Seven,” repeated Sarrah composedly. “That is my weddin’ present to ye, John.”
“Is there a man in all this audience,” demanded the female lecturer on woman’s rights, “that has ever done anything to lighten the burden on his wife’s shoulders? What do you know of woman’s work? Is there a man here,” she continued, folding her arms, and looking over the assembly with superb scorn, “that has ever got up in the morning, leaving his tired, worn-out wife to enjoy her slumbers, gone quietly downstairs, made the fire, cooked his own breakfast, sewed the missing buttons on the children’s clothes, darned the family stockings, scoured the pots and kettles, cleaned and filled the lamps, and done all this, if necessary, day after day, uncomplainingly? If there be such a man in this audience let him rise up! I should really like to see him!”
And, in the rear of the hall, a mild-looking man in spectacles, in obedience to the summons, timidly arose. He was the husband of the eloquent speaker. It was the first time he had ever had a chance to assert himself.