BATHS AND BATHING
The only unoccupied room in the hotel--one with a private bath in
connection with it--was given to the stranger from Kansas. The next
morning the clerk was approached by the guest when the latter was ready
to check out.
"Well, did you have a good night's rest?" the clerk asked.
"No, I didn't," replied the Kansan. "The room was all right, and the bed
was pretty good, but I couldn't sleep very
much for I was afraid some
one would want to take a bath, and the only door to it was through my
room."
RURAL CONSTABLE-"Now then, come out o' that. Bathing's not allowed 'ere
after 8 a.m."
THE FACE IN THE WATER-"Excuse me, Sergeant, I'm not bathing; I'm only
drowning."--_Punch_.
A woman and her brother lived alone in the Scotch Highlands. She knitted
gloves and garments to sell in the Lowland towns. Once when she was
starting out to market her wares, her brother said he would go with her
and take a dip in the ocean. While the woman was in the town selling
her work, Sandy was sporting in the waves. When his sister came down to
join him, however, he met her with a wry face. "Oh, Kirstie," he said,
"I've lost me weskit." They hunted high and low, but finally as night
settled down decided that the waves must have carried it out to sea.
The next year, at about the same season, the two again visited the town.
And while Kirstie sold her wool in the town, Sandy splashed about in the
brine. When Kirstie joined her brother she found him with a radiant
face, and he cried out to her, "Oh, Kirstie, I've found me weskit. 'Twas
under me shirt."
In one of the lesser Indian hill wars an English detachment took an
Afghan prisoner. The Afghan was very dirty. Accordingly two privates
were deputed to strip and wash him.
The privates dragged the man to a stream of running water, undressed
him, plunged him in, and set upon him lustily with stiff brushes and
large cakes of white soap.
After a long time one of the privates came back to make a report. He
saluted his officer and said disconsolately:
"It's no use, sir. It's no use."
"No use?" said the officer. "What do you mean? Haven't you washed that
Afghan yet?"
"It's no use, sir," the private repeated. "We've washed him for two
hours, but it's no use."
"How do you mean it's no use?" said the officer angrily.
"Why, sir," said the private, "after rubbin' him and scrubbin' him till
our arms ached I'll be hanged if we didn't come to another suit of
clothes."