A story current in Philadelphia refers to Mr. Richard Vaux, an eminent
citizen and member of a highly respected old Quaker family, who in his
youth had been an _attaché_ of the American Legation in London. One of
his letters home narrated with pardonable pride that he had danced
with the Princess Victoria at a royal ball and had found her a very
charming partner. His mother replied: "It pleaseth me much, Richard,
to hear of thy success at the ball in Buckingham Palace; but thee must
remember it would be a great blow to thy father to have thee marry out
of meeting."

Philosophy, art, and letters receive no greater deference at the hands
of the American humorist. Even an Oliver Wendell Holmes will say of
metaphysics that it is like "splitting a log; when you have done, you
have two more to split." A poster long used by the comedians Crane and
Robson represented these popular favourites in the guise of the two
lowermost cherubs in the Sistine Madonna. Bill Nye's assertion that
"the peculiarity of classical music is that it is so much better than
it sounds" is typical of a whole battalion of quips. Scenery, even
when associated with poetry, fares no better. The advertising fiend
who defaces the most picturesque rocks with his atrocious
announcements is, perhaps, hardly entitled to the name of humorist;
but the man who affixed the name of Minniegiggle to a small fall near
the famous Minnehaha evidently thought himself one. So, doubtless, did
one of my predecessors in a dressing-cabin at Niagara, who had
inscribed on its walls:

"Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them,