More Toasts
Chapter 71 : ENGLISH LANGUAGE By way of enlarging the children's vocabulary, our village school

ENGLISH LANGUAGE

By way of enlarging the children's vocabulary, our village school-teacher is in the habit of giving them a certain word and asking them to form a sentence in which that word occurs. The other day she gave the cla.s.s the word "notwithstanding." There was a pause, and then a bright-faced youngster held up his hand.

"Well, what is your sentence, Tommy?" asked the teacher.

"Father wore his trousers out, but notwithstanding."

TILDA--"Pa.s.s the 'la.s.ses."

LIZZIE (who has attended school)--"Don't say ''la.s.ses.' Say mola.s.ses."

TILDA--"How come I say mo' 'la.s.ses when I ain't had none yet?"

_Jailless Crimes_

Killing time.

Hanging pictures.

Stealing bases.

Shooting the chutes.

Choking off a speaker.

Running over a new song.

Smothering a laugh.

Setting fire to a heart.

Knifing a performance.

Murdering the English language.--_Judge_.

"Now, boys," said the schoolmaster, "I want you to bear in mind that the word 'stan' at the end of a word means 'the place of.' Thus we have Afghanistan--the place of the Afghans; also Hindustan--the place of the Hindus. Can any one give me another example?"

n.o.body appeared very anxious to do so, until little Johnny Snaggs, the joy of his mother and the terror of the cats, said proudly--

"Yes, sir, I can. Umbrellastan--the place for umbrellas."

He went into a shop to buy a comb. He was a man careful of other people's grammar, and believed himself to be careful of his own.

"Do you want a narrow man's comb?" asked the a.s.sistant.

"No," answered the careful grammarian, "I want a comb for a stout man with tortoisesh.e.l.l teeth."

TEACHER--"Thomas, will you tell me what a conjunction is, and compose a sentence containing one?"

THOMAS (after reflection)--"A conjunction is a word connecting anything, such as 'The horse is. .h.i.tched to the fence by his halter.'

'Halter' is a conjunction, because it connects the horse and the fence."

A young man poured out a long story of adventure to a Boston girl.

Surprised, she asked:

"Did you really do that?"

"I done it," answered the proud young man. He began another narrative, more startling than the first.

When she again expressed her surprise, he said, with inflated chest, "I done it."

"Do you know," remarked the girl, "you remind me strongly of Banquo's Ghost?"

"Why?"

"Don't you remember that Macbeth said to him, 'Thou canst not say, "I did it"'?" and the young man wondered why everybody laughed.

An English professor, traveling through the hills, noted various quaint expressions. For instance, after a long ride the professor sought provisions at a mountain hut.

"What d' yo'-all want?" called out a woman.

"Madam," said the professor, "can we get corn bread here? We'd like to buy some of you."

"Corn bread? Corn bread, did yo' say?" Then she chuckled to herself, and her manner grew amiable. "Why, if corn bread's all yo' want, come right in, for that's just what I hain't got nothing else on hand but."

Charles B. Towns, the antidrug champion, spent some time in China several years ago with Samuel Merwin, the writer. In a Hongkong shop-window they noticed some Chinese house-coats of particularly striking designs and stepped in to purchase one. Mr. Towns asked Mr.

Merwin to do the bargaining.

"Wantum coatee," said Mr. Merwin to the sleepy-eyed Oriental who shuffled up with a grunt. He placed several of the coats before them.

"How muchee Melican monee?" inquired Mr. Merwin.

"It would aid me in transacting this sale," said the Chinaman, "if you would confine your language to your mother tongue. The coat is seven dollars."

Mr. Merwin took it.

Grace's uncle met her on the street one spring day and asked her whether she was going out with a picnic party from her school.

"No," replied his eight-year-old niece, "I ain't going."

"My dear," said the uncle, "you must not say, 'I ain't going.' You must say, 'I am not going.'" And he proceeded to give her a little lesson in grammar: "'You are not going. He is not going. We are not going. You are not going. They are not going.' Now, can you say all that?"

"Sure I can," responded Grace quite heartily. "There ain't n.o.body going."--_Harper's_.

"What is the plural of man, Willie?" asked the teacher of a small pupil.