reached Liverpool. When I asked how he felt he said he thought he would
have enjoyed the trip over if he had had any ocean air. Yes, you want to
hear Choate on the Navy." When it was Mr. Choate's turn to speak, he
said: "I've heard Depew hailed as the greatest after-dinner speaker. If
after-dinner speaking, as I have heard it described and as I believe it
to be, is the art of saying nothing at all, then Mr. Depew is the most
marvelous speaker in the universe."

The medical profession can be assailed with impunity, since they have
long since grown accustomed to it. There is a story of a young laborer
who, on his way to his day's work, called at the registrar's office to
register his father's death. When the official asked the date of the
event, the son replied, "He ain't dead yet, but he'll be dead before
night, so I thought it would save me another journey if you would put it
down now." "Oh, that won't do at all," said the registrar; "perhaps your
father will live till tomorrow." "Well, I don't think so, sir; the
doctor says as he won't, and he knows what he has given him."

While stories should be used sparingly, there is probably nothing more
effective before a popular audience than the telling of a story in which
the joke is on the speaker himself. Thus:

The last time I made a speech, I went next day to the editor of our
local newspaper, and said,

"I thought your paper was friendly to me?"

The editor said, "So it is. What's the matter?"

"Well," I said, "I made a speech last night, and you didn't print a