or no, I guess he didn't have his berth reserved, he got
on the train and asked the porter for a reservation for Buffalo--or,
anyway, that part doesn't matter--say that he had a berth for Buffalo or
any other place, and the porter came through and said, 'Do you want an
early call?'--or no, he went to the porter--that was it--and said--"

But stop. The rest of the story becomes a mere painful waiting for the
end.

Of course the higher type of funny story is the one that depends for its
amusing quality not on the final point, or not solely on it, but on the
wording and the narration all through. This is the way in which a story
is told by a comedian or a person who is a raconteur in the real sense.
When Sir Harry Lauder narrates an incident, the telling of it is funny
from beginning to end. When some lesser person tries to repeat it
afterwards, there is nothing left but the final point. The rest is
weariness.

As a consequence most story-tellers are driven to telling stories that
depend on the point or "nub" and not on the narration. The storyteller
gathers these up till he is equipped with a sort of little repertory of
fun by which he hopes to surround himself with social charm. In America
especially (by which I mean here the United States and Canada, but not
Mexico) we suffer from the story-telling habit. As far as I am able to
judge, English society is not pervaded and damaged by the story-telling
habit as much as is society in the United States and Canada. On our
side of the Atlantic story-telling at dinners and on every other social
occasion has become a curse. In every phase of social and intellectual
life one is haunted by the funny anecdote. Any one who has ever attended
a Canadian or American banquet will recall the solemn way in which the
chairman rises and says: "Gentlemen, it is to me a very great pleasure
and a very great honour to preside at this annual dinner. There was an
old darky once--" and so forth. When he concludes he says, "I will now
call upon the Rev. Dr. Stooge, Head of the Provincial University, Haroe
English Any Sense of Humour? to propose the toast 'Our Dominion.'" Dr.
Stooge rises amid great applause and with great solemnity begins, "There
were once two Irishmen--" and so on to the end. But in London, England,
it is apparently not so. Not long ago I had the pleasure of meeting at
dinner a member of the Government. I fully anticipated that as a member
of the Government he would be expected t