Название | More Toasts |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Various |
Жанр | Языкознание |
Серия | |
Издательство | Языкознание |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 4064066243128 |
"'Yes, I know you're the star,' the other retorted, eyeing with an amused smile the leading actress's long, slim figure, 'but you'd look better, my dear, if you were a little meteor!'"
INTERVIEWER—"What is your wife's favorite dish?"
HUSBAND OF FAMOUS MOVIE ACTRESS—"In the magazines it is peach-bloom fudge-cake with orangewisp salad, but at home it is tripe and cabbage."—Puck.
The actress stood before her mirror, in doublet and hose, and regarded her thin legs anxiously.
"I'm not exactly a poem," said she, "but I may pass for heroic verse."
ADVERTISING
The Question is How Much More?
TO RENT—In private home, a large, handsomely furnished front room; also a medium-sized one; every convenience; centrally and very choicely located; rent more than reasonable. Address, etc.—
Advertising is the test of integrity; the proof of integrity; that transmits an ever-increasing confidence to both producer and purchaser.
"I won't pay one cent for my advertising this week," declared the store-keeper angrily to the editor of the country paper. "You told me you'd put the notice of my shoe-polish in with the reading-matter."
"And didn't I do it?" inquired the editor.
"No, sir!" roared the advertiser. "No, sir, you did not! You put it in the column with a mess of poetry, that's where you put it!"
"Paw, what is an advertisement?"
"An advertisement is the picture of a pretty girl eating, wearing, holding or driving something that somebody wants to sell."
A violinist was bitterly disappointed with the account of his recital printed in the paper of a small town.
"I told your man three or four times," complained the musician to the owner of the paper, "that the instrument I used was a genuine Stradivarius, and in his story there was not a word about it, not a word."
Whereupon the owner said with a laugh:
"That is as it should be. When Mr. Stradivarius gets his fiddles advertised in my paper under ten cents a line, you come around and let me know."
"Oh, we called about the flat advertised."
"Well, I did mean to let it, but since I've read the house-agent's description of it, I really feel I can't part with it."
CLASSIFIED AD MANAGER—"Your advertisement begins: 'Wanted: Silent Partner.'"
ADVERTISER—"Yes, that's right."
CLASSIFIED AD MANAGER—"Do you want this placed under Business Opportunities or Matrimony?"
"Say, Jim," said the friend of the taxicab-driver, standing in front of the vehicle, "there's a purse lying on the floor of your car."
The driver looked carefully around and then whispered: "Sometimes when business is bad I put it there and leave the door open. It's empty, but you've no idea how many people'll jump in for a short drive when they see it."
Recently the L. P. Ross Shoe Company inserted an advertisement in a Rochester paper for vampers and closers-up. Among the answers received was one from a young lady who signed herself Miss Mabelle Jones and gave her address as General Delivery, Rochester. The letter said in part:
"Gentlemen: I have seen your ad for vampires and close-ups and I would like the job. I have been studying to vamp for several years and have been practising eye work for a long while. My gentlemen friends tell me that I have the other movie vamps backed off the map. I have made a particular study of Theda Bara. I don't know much about close-ups, but suppose I could learn. I have a good form, swell brown eyes, and a fine complexion."
"If you would like, I will call and show you what I can do. I have been looking for a vampire job, but never saw no ads in the papers before."
"Yours,"
"MABELLE JONES."
"P.S.—Do you furnish clothes for your vampires? I have just come to Rochester and so I haven't got many clothes."—Rochester Herald.
His Little Ad
There was a man in our town
And he was wondrous wise;
He swore (it was his policy)
He would not advertise.
But one day he did advertise,
And thereby hangs a tail,
The "ad" was set in quite small type,
And headed "Sheriff's Sale."
Burton Holmes, the lecturer, had an interesting experience, while in London. He told some Washington friends a day or two ago that when he visited the theater where he was to deliver his travelogue he decided that the entrance to the theater was rather dingy and that there should be more display of his attraction.
Accordingly, he suggested to the manager of the house that the front be brightened up at night by electrical signs, one row of lights spelling his name "Burton" and another row of lights spelling the name "Holmes."
The manager told him it was too much of an innovation for him to authorize and referred him to the owner of the theater. Mr. Holmes traveled several hours into the country to consult with the owner, who referred him to his agent in the city. The agent in turn sent Mr. Holmes to the janitor of the theater.
"I talked with the janitor and explained my plan to him for about an hour," Mr. Holmes said. "Finally, after we had gone into every detail of the cost and everything else, the janitor told me that the theater was a very exclusive and high class theater, and that he would not put up the sign. I asked him why?"
"Because it would attract too much attention to the theater," the janitor replied.
"What's your time?" asked the old farmer of the brisk salesman. "Twenty minutes after five. What can I do for you?" "I want them pants," said the old farmer, leading the way to the window and pointing to a ticket marked, "Given away at 5.20."
See also Authorship; Beauty, Personal; Salesmen and salesmanship.
ADVICE
The most unfair person is the one who asks you for advice and doesn't let you know what advice he wants.
Another thing that we sometimes take when nobody's looking is advice.
It is a good divine that follows his own instructions: I can easier teach twenty what were good to be done, than be one of the twenty to follow mine own teaching.—Shakespeare.
Advice is the most worthless commodity in the world. Those who might profit by it don't need it, and those who do need it won't profit by it—if they could, they wouldn't need it.
How often have my kindly friends,
(When Fate has dealt me some shrewd blow),
Recalling random odds and ends
Of counsel, cried: "I told you so!"
But when 'twas I who warned, and they
Who heeded not, and came to woe,
I wonder why they'd never say:
"That's right, old chap, you told me so!"
AFTER DINNER SPEECHES