Reproduction 10

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Well, my Uncle Theophilus is the uncle with the real brains. He’s my oldest uncle, a tall, thin, gray-haired man, whose thoughts were always on learning and nothing else. He’s quiet and gentle and absent-minded and with about as much sense as a child where money is concerned. Well, he applied for a post in Camford University. It was a very good post and there were hundreds of candidates who applied for it, and about fifteen, including Theo, were asked to go to be interviewed.

Now Camford is a very small town; there is only one hotel in it, and this was so full that they had to put many of the candidates two in a room. Theo was one of these, and the man who shared the room with him was a self-confident fellow called Adams, about 20 years younger than Theo, with a loud voice, and a laugh that yon could hear all over the hotel. But he was a clever fellow all the same and had a good post in Iscariot College Narkover. Well the Dean, that's the head of the department of the University, and the committee interviewed all the candidates; and, as a result of this interview the number was reduced to two, Uncle Theo and Adams. The committee couldn't decide which of the two to take, so they decided to make final choice after each candidate had given a public lecture in the college lecture-hall. The subject they had to speak on was "The Civilisation of the Ancient Sumerians", and the lecture had to he given in three days time.

Well, for three days Uncle Theo never left his room. lie worked day and night at that lecture, writing it out and memorising it, almost without eating or sleeping. Adams didn't seem to do any preparation at all. You could hear his voice and his laughter in the bar where he had a crowd of people round him. He came to his room late at night, asked Uncle Theo how he was getting on with his lecture, and then told him how he had spent the evening playing billiards, or at the theatre or music-hall. He ate like a horse and slept like a log; and Uncle Theo sat up working at his lecture.

The day of the lecture arrived. They all went into the lecture-room and Theo and Adams took their seats on the platform. And then, Theo discovered, to his horror, that the typewritten copy of his speech had disappeared! The Dean said he would call on the candidates in alphabetic, order, Adams first; and, with despair in his heart, Theo watched Adams calmly take the stolen speech out of his pocket and read it to the professors who were gathered to hear it. And how well he read it! Even Theo had to admit that he couldn't have read it nearly so eloquently himself, and when Adams finished there was a great burst of applause. Adams bowed and smiled, and sat down.

Now it was Theo's turn. Bill what could he do? He had put everything he knew into that lecture. His mind was too much upset to put the same thoughts in another way. With a burning face he could only repeat, word for word, in a low, dull voice the lecture that Adams had spoken so eloquently. There was hardly any applause when he sat down.

The Dean and the committee went out to decide who the successful candidate was, but everyone was sure what their decision would be. Adams leaned across to Theo and patted him on the back and said, smilingly, "Hard luck, old fellow, but, after all, only one of us could win."

Then the Dean and committee came back. "Gentlemen," the Dean said, "the candidate we have chosen is — Mr. Hobdell." Uncle Theo had won. You could have knocked him down with a feather! The audience was completely taken by surprise, and the Dean continued, "I think I ought to tell you how we arrived at that decision. We were all filled with admiration at the learning and eloquence of Mr. Adams. I was greatly impressed; I didn't think he had it in him. But, you will remember, Mr. Adams read his lecture to us. When Mr. Hobdell's turn came, he repeated that speech, word by word, from memory, though, of course, he couldn't have seen a line of it before. Now, a fine memory is absolutely necessary for this post; and what a memory Mr. Hobdell must have! That is why we decided that Mr. Hobdell was exactly the man we wanted."

As they walked out of the room, the Dean came up to Uncle Theo, who was so confused but so happy that he hardly knew whether he was standing on his head or his heels; as he shook Theo's hand he said, "Congratulations, Mr. Hobdell But, my dear fellow, when you are on our staff, you must be more careful and not leave valuable papers lying about!"

Reproduction 11 A day with granny

(After Michael Cain)

Two weeks ago, my cousin George and I decided to visit our grandmother in London.

We went up to London in the morning. After lunch we all three decided to sail down the Thames to Greenwich to have a look at the old ships. But suddenly it started raining, so we had to change our plans.

We made up our minds² to visit Madame Tussaud's³ instead. George -hadn't been there before.

We were lucky: we got a taxi — and there was no queue! It was great fun seeing all the wax figures. There were some new ones I hadn't seen before.

After an hour Granny felt a little tired and wanted to sit down and rest for a moment. She told us to go down and take a look at all the murderers in the cellar. We promised to be back again in half an hour.

When we came back we saw two American tourists standing in front of Granny. One of them was taking a photo of her.

We didn't understand why — but then we heard one of them say, "She sure looks like a real woman!" — You should have seen their faces⁴ a moment later when Granny opened her eyes!

Reproduction 12 A melting story

(After M. Twain)

One winter evening a country storekeeper in the Green Mountain Slate was about closing up for the night, and while standing in the snow outside, pulling up the window shutters, saw through the glass a fellow within grab a pound of fresh butter from the shelf and conceal it in his hat.

"I say, Seth," said the storekeeper, coming in and stamping the snow off his feet.

Seth had his hand on the door, his hat on his head, and the roll of butter in his hat, anxious to make his exit as soon as possible.

"I say, Seth, sit down. I reckon, now, on such a cold night as this a little something warm would not hurt a fellow."

Seth felt very uncertain. He had the butler, and was exceedingly anxious to be off; but the temptation of something warm sadly interfered with his resolution to go.

Seth was in such a manner cornered in by the boxes and barrels that, while the grocer stood before him, there was no possibility of getting out.

"Seth, we'll have a little warm Santa Cruz," said the Green Mountain grocer; so he opened the stove door, and stuffed in as many sticks as the place would admit; "without it you'd freeze going out on such a night as this."

Seth already felt the butter setting down closer to his hair; and he jumped up declaring he must go.

"No till you have something warm, Seth. Come, I've got a story to tell you."

And Seth was again rushed into his seat by his cunning tormentor.

"Oh, it's hot here," said the thief, attempting to rise.

"Sit down, don't be in such a hurry."

"But I've got the cows to fodder and the wood to split — I must be going."

"But you mustn't tear yourself away, Seth, in this manner. Sit down; let the cows take care of themselves, and keep yourself easy. You appear to be a little fidgety," said the roguish grocer, with a wicked leer.

The next thing he did was to produce two smoking glasses of hot toddy, the very sight of which, in Seth's present situation, would have made the hair stand erect upon his head had it not been well oiled and kept down by the butter.

"Come, Seth, take your toddy."

Poor Seth now began to smoke as well as melt, and his mouth was hermetically sealed up, as though he had been born dumb.

Streak after streak of butter came pouring from under his hat, and his handkerchief was already soaked with greasy overflow.

Talking away as if nothing was the matter, the fun-loving grocer kept stuffing wood into the stove, while poor Seth, with his back against Hie counter and his knees touching the red-hot furnace before him.

"Cold night this," said the grocer. "Why, Seth, you seem to perspire as if you were warm. Why don't you take your hat off? Here, let me put your hat away."

"No!" exclaimed poor Seth. "No! I must go! Let me out! I ain't well! Let me go!"

A greasy cataract was now pouring down the poor man's face and neck, and soaking into his clothes, and trickling down his body into the boots, so that he was literally in a perfect bath of oil.

"Well, good night, Seth," said the humorous Vermonter — "if you will go!" and adding, as he started out of the door: "I say, Seth, I reckon the fun I have had out of you is worth ninepence, so I shan't charge you for that pound of butter in your hat."