Old Brown lived in a city．He had no job but was rich．He was good at stealing．He had never been in prison．So none of his neighbours knew that he was a thief．
One day a friend of his went to visit him，but he was out．His son，young Brown，came out to meet the man and asked him to have a cup of tea in the sittingroom．About half an hour later old Brown came back．
“Mr．White asked me to return five hundred pounds to you，Mr．Brown．”said his friend．
“Thank you，my friend．”
But to his surprise，the man couldn’t find his wallet in his pockets．He looked very worried．
“What has happened to you，my friend？”
“My wallet is missing．”said the man.“But it was in my pocket just now．”
“Who has been here？”
“Only your son．”
“I see．”said old Brown.“Don’t worry about it．I must get it back for you．”
Old Brown went out．Before long，he came back with the wallet．His friend was happy and asked．“Didn’t you blame your son？”
“Don’t speak so loudly．”said old Brown.“My son doesn’t know I have picked the wallet from his pocket！”
布朗父子
老布朗住在城里。他无工作却很富有。他以行窃为生，却从未进过监狱，因此大家都不知道他是个小偷。
一天，有位朋友来拜访布朗先生，可他碰巧外出了。于是他儿子小布朗出来接待，把朋友引进客厅并请朋友用茶。半小时后老布朗回来了。
“怀德先生让我把五百英镑钱还给你。”那朋友一见布朗便说道。
“那真谢谢你啦！”
那朋友伸进口袋掏钱，这时大吃一惊，口袋里的钱包不见了，他急坏了。
“你怎么啦，老朋友？”
“我钱包丢了，可刚刚还在的呀！”
“谁到过这里？”
“没别人，只有你儿子。”
“行了，别着急，我会帮你找到的。”老布朗说。
老布朗出去了，不一会，他拿着钱包回来了。那朋友非常高兴，问道：“没责骂你儿子吧？”
“嘘！轻声点！”老布朗说道，“我儿子压根儿也不知道我把钱包从他口袋里取出来了。”
Spurgeon
More funny stories are told of Spurgeon than perhaps any great preacher．Here is a good one．He was called to the telephone by a friend who said：
“Have you read this morning’s paper？”
“Yes.”
“Did you see in it a notice that I was dead？”
“Yes．”
“What do you think of it？”
“Don’t know.”replied Spurgeon．“What I want to know is where are you speaking from？”
We do not vouch for the truth of the following，but it is，nevertheless，worth mentioning．When Spurgeon died，a notice was posted on his Tabernacle to this effect：
“Spurgeon set out for Heaven at 7∶15．”
A wag added the following：
“Not yet arrived，12p．m．，anxious．Peter．”
斯波俊
关于斯波俊的趣事也许比其他任何一位大传教士的都要多。这里讲的是其中一个逗人的故事。有一个朋友给他打电话，说：
“你读了今天早晨的报纸了吗？”
“读了。”
“你是不是在布告栏里看到我死亡的消息了？”
“是的。”
“你有何感想？”
“不知道。”斯波俊回答说。“我想知道的是你现在从什么地方给我打电话？”
我们不能确定下面这件事的真实性，但是无论如何，它还是值得一提的。当斯波俊去世的时候，他的教堂贴出了一则告示，内容是：
“斯波俊于7点15分动身去天堂。”
一个好开玩笑的人加上了一句：“尚未到达，午夜12点，甚感焦虑。彼得”
Mr．Pickwick’s Dilemma
Mr．Pickwick’s apartments in Goswell Street，although on a limited scale，were not only of a very neat and come for table description，but peculiarly adaptedadapted adj.适合的for the residence of a man of his genius and observation．
His landlady，Mrs．Bar dell，—the relict and sole executrixexecutrix of a deceased customhousecustomhouse officer，—was a comelycomely woman of bustling manners and agreeable appearance，with a natural genius for cooking，improved by study and long practice into an exquisite talent．There were no children，no servants，no fowls．The only other inmates of the house were a large man and a small boy；the first a lodger，the second a production of Mrs．Bar dell’s．The large man was always home precisely at ten o’clock at night，at which hour he regularly condensed himself into the limits of a dwarfish French bedstead in the back parlor；and the infantine sports and gymnastic gymnastic exercises of Master Bar dell were exclusively confined to the neighboring pavements and gutters．Cleanliness and quiet reigned throughout the house；and in it Mr．Pick wick’s will was law．
To any one acquainted with these points of the domestic economy of the establishment，and conversantconversant with the admirable regulation of Mr．Pick wick’s mind，his appearance and behavior，on the morning previous to that which had been fixed upon for the journey to Eatans will，would have been most mysterious and unaccountableunaccountable ．He paced the room to and fro with hurried steps，popped his head out of the window at intervals of about three minutes each，constantly referred to his watch，and exhibited many other manifestationsmanifestation of impatience，very unusual with him．It was evident that something of great importance was in contemplation contemplation；but what that something was，not even Mrs．Bar dell herself had been enabled to discover．
“Mrs．Bar dell，”said Mr．Pick wick，at last，as that amiableamiable female approached the termination of a prolonged prolonged dusting of the apartment．
“Sir.”said Mrs．Bar dell．
“Your little boy is a very long time gone．”
“Why，it’s a good long way to the Borough，sir.”remonstrated remonstrate Mrs．Bar dell．
“Ah，”said Mr．Pick wick，“very true；so it is．”
Mr．Pick wick relapsed relapse into silence，and Mrs．Bar dell resumed her dusting．
“Mrs．Bar dell.”said Mr．Pick wick，at the expiration of a few minutes．
“Sir.”said Mrs．Bar dell again．
“Do you think it’s a much greater expense to keep two people than to keep one？”
“La，Mr．Pick wick，”said Mrs．Bar dell，coloring up to the very border of her cap，as she fancied she observed a species of matrimonialmatrimonial twinkle in the eyes of her lodger，“la，Mr．Pick wick，what a question！”
“Well，but do you？”inquired Mr．Pick wick．
“That depends，”said Mrs．Bar dell，approaching the duster very near to Mr．Pick wick’s elbow，which was planted on the table，“that depends a good deal upon the person，you know，Mr．Pick wick；and whether it’s a saving and careful person，sir．”
“That’s very true.”said Mr．Pick wick；“But the person I have in my eye（here he looked very hard at Mrs．Bar dell）I think possesses these qualities；and has，moreover，a considerable knowledge of the world，and a great deal of sharpness，Mrs．Bar dell；which may be of material use to me．”
“La，Mr．Pick wick.”said Mrs．Bar dell；the crimson rising to her cap border again．
“I do，”said Mr．Pick wick，growing energetic，as was his wont in speaking of a subject which interested him，“I do，indeed；and，to tell you the truth，Mrs．Bar dell，I have made up my mind．”
“Dear me，sir.”explained Mrs．Bar dell．
“You’ll think it not very strange now，”said the amiable Mr．Pick wick，with a good humored glance at his companion，“that I never consulted you about this matter，and never mentioned it，till I sent your little boy out this morning，eh？”
