Toasts and Forms of Public Address


“What is this new substance I hear so much about?” asked the eminent scientist’s wife.

“What new substance, my dear?”

“The element in the air that has just been detected.”

“Oh! that, my dear,” he answered, beaming over his spectacles with the good nature of superior wisdom, “is known as argon!”


“Yes; its discovery is one of the most remarkable triumphs of the age. It has revolutionized some of the old theories, or at least it will revolutionize them before it gets through.”

“What is it?”

“It’s–er–a–did you say, what is it?”

“I said that.”

“Well–ahem–you see, we haven’t as yet discovered much about it except its name.”


An Episcopal clergyman passing his vacation in Indiana met an old farmer who declared that he was a “‘Piscopal.”

“To what parish do you belong?” asked the clergyman.

“Don’t know nawthin’ ’bout enny parish,” was the answer.

“Well, then,” continued the clergyman, “what diocese do you belong to?”

“They ain’t nawthin’ like that ’round here,” said the farmer.

“Who confirmed you, then?” was the next question.

“Nobody,” answered the farmer.

“Then how are you an Episcopalian?” asked the clergyman.

“Well,” was the reply, “you see it’s this way: Last winter I went down to Arkansas visitin’, and while I was there I went to church, and it was called ‘Piscopal, and I he’rd them say ‘that they left undone the things what they’d oughter done and they had done some things what they oughten done,’ and I says to myself, says I: ‘That’s my fix exac’ly, and ever since I considered myself a ‘Piscopalian.”

The clergyman shook the old fellow’s hand, and laughingly said:

“Now I understand, my friend, why the membership of our church is so large.”


A little girl brought a note to her school-teacher one morning, which read as follows. “Dear teacher, please excuse Johnny for not coming to school today. He is dead.” Johnny was excused.