Orlando Day, a fourth-rate actor in London, was once called, in a sudden

emergency, to supply the place of Allen Ainsworth at the Criterion

Theatre for a single night.

The call filled him with joy. Here was a chance to show the public how

great a histrionic genius had remained unknown for lack of an

opportunity. But his joy was suddenly dampened by the dreadful thought

that, as the play was already in the midst of its run, none of the

dramatic critics might be there to watch his triumph.

A bright thought struck him. He would announce the event. Rushing to a

telegraph office, he sent to one of the leading critics the following

telegram: "Orlando Day presents Allen Ainsworth's part to-night at the

Criterion."

Then it occurred to him, "Why not tell them all?" So he repeated the

message to a dozen or more important persons.

At a late hour of the same day, in the Garrick Club, a lounging

gentleman produced one of the telegrams, and read it to a group of

friends. A chorus of exclamations followed the reading: "Why, I got

precisely the same message!" "And so did I." "And I, too." "Who is

Orlando Day?" "What beastly cheek!" "Did the ass fancy that one would

pay any attention to his wire?"

J. M. Barrie, the famous author and playwright, who was present, was the

only one who said nothing.

"Didn't he wire you too?" asked one of the group.

"Oh, yes."

"But of course you didn't answer."

"Oh, but it was only polite to send an answer after he had taken the

trouble to wire me. So, of course, I answered him."

"You did! What did you say?"

"Oh, I just telegraphed him: 'Thanks for timely warning.'"

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"I know a nature-faker," said Mr. Bache, the author, "who claims that a

hen of his last month hatched, from a setting of seventeen eggs,

seventeen chicks that had, in lieu of feathers, fur.

"He claimed that these fur-coated chicks were a proof of nature's

adaptation of all animals to their environment, the seventeen eggs

having been of the cold-storage variety."

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In a large store a child, pointing to a shopper exclaimed, "Oh, mother,

that lady lives the same place we do. I just heard her say, 'Send it up

C.O.D.' Isn't that where we live?"