Most Viewed
Humility
The Gloomy Guest
Optimism
Physiology
Repentance
Hospitality
Baptism
A Lovers' Quarrel
Cleanliness
Beginners
Least Viewed
Appearance
Economy
Sympathy
Cause And Effect
Discretion
Sarcasm
What He Preferred
He Knew
Punishment
Peace
Random Stories Jokes
Liars
An Error In Judgment
Justification
Pension
Pessimism
French
Smells
Questions
A Good Match
Philanthropy
|
Spelling
Stories Jokes Home
Some time before Mr. Taft became President of the United States, he took
an extended trip in the mountains of West Virginia. On one occasion, he
was conveyed along the mountain roads in a buggy driven by a native of
the region. As they came to a small stream, Mr. Taft, without any
particular interest, inquired concerning the brook's name. So far as he
could understand, the answer was:
"This here are Swum-swum Crick."
"What?" Mr. Taft demanded.
In the repetition, the words sounded like:
"This here are Swoovel Crick."
The questioner was so puzzled that he asked the mountaineer how the name
of the Creek was spelled.
The native spat tobacco juice reflectively over the wheel, and then
spoke judicially:
"Waal, some spells it one way, an' some spells it another way; but in my
jedgmint thar are no propeer way."
* * *
The clerk of the court directed the witness to spell his name. The man
started his reply thus:
"_O_ double _t_, _i_ double _u_, _e_ double _l_, double _u_, double----"
The clerk interrupted:
"Please, begin again."
The witness complied glibly:
"_O_ double _t_, _i_ double _u_, _e_ double _l_, double _u_, double
_o_----"
The clerk groaned. The judge himself intervened: "What is your name?"
"Your Honor, it is Ottiwell Wood. I spell it: _O_ double _t_, _i_ double
_u_, _e_ double _l_, double _u_, double _o_, _d_."
Next: Spinsterhood
Previous: Speed
Viewed 616
|
Informational
