raiment cost, and I told her what my income
was. Then our engagement sagged in the middle and gently dissolved."
A FUTILE EXPERIMENT
William Williams hated nicknames. He used to say that most fine given
names were ruined by abbreviations, which was a sin and a shame. "I
myself," he said, "am one of six brothers. We were all given good,
old-fashioned Christian names, but all those names were shortened into
meaningless or feeble monosyllables by our friends. I shall name my
children so that it will be impracticable to curtail their names."
The Williams family, in the course of time, was blessed with five
children, all boys. The eldest was named after the father--William. Of
course, that would be shortened to "Will" or enfeebled to "Willie"--but
wait! A second son came and was christened Willard. "Aha!" chuckled Mr.
Williams, "Now everybody will have to speak the full names of each of
these boys in order to distinguish them."
In pursuance of this scheme the next three sons were named Wilbert,
Wilfred, and Wilmont.
They are all big boys now. And they are respectively known to their
intimates as Bill, Skinny, Butch, Chuck, and Kid.
THEY MEANT TO BE PAID
No man is ever willing to admit that he has any prejudices. But
sometimes the facts confront him sternly, as in the case of the two
gentlemen in the following dialogue:
BRIGGS: I wonder why it is that when men like Bryan and Billy Sunday
accept good money we have a tendency secretly to despise them.
GRIGGS: Well, I presume because they are posing to be disinterested.
When they take away such big returns we set them down as hypocrites.
BRIGGS: But they have a right to make a living.
GRIGGS: You might say that of any one else--any get-rich-quick chap,
for example, provided he can get away with it.
BRIGGS: But the get-rich-quick man is cheating his customers.
GRIGGS: Well, a good many people feel that both Bryan and Sunday are
cheating their customers. I don't say they are, mind you. I am only
giving that side of the argument, and, according to it, they are
deluding their customers with false hopes. Bryan says that a combination
of free silver, grape juice, and peace will cure all ills, and he gets
five hundred dollars a lecture for saying it. Billy Sunday gets
thousands of dollars for dragging hell out into the limelight. They are
both popular forms of amusement. They divert the mind. Why shouldn't
they be paid? There are far worse moving-pictur
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