Tag: Humor

I wonder what your first thoughts were looking at the title of the story.

Maybe a memory from childhood or a snapshot of some TV program where the protagonist ended up in a ditch, not able to control their bicycle?

Well, just when you thought you had seen it all and laughed all you could at your bicycle misfortunes, Mark Twain brings you some of his own with Taming the Bicycle, published as part of his collection What is Man and Other Stories.

Taming the Bicycle: Summary and Plot Analysis

In the early eighties, Mark Twain learned to ride one of the old high-wheel bicycles of that period, the form of bicycle that has long been antiquated. Twain’s account of his bicycle adventures are far from it though.

So Mr Twain saw an ad for a bicycle, thought he could do it and bought one alongwith a barrel of pond’s extract ( Guess what your friendly neighborhood Ponds cream was called back then!). He also hired an instructor from the company, who was to teach him the tricks to tame the wheely monster.

Mine was not a full-grown bicycle, but only a colt – fifty inch – and skittish, like any other colt.

The instructor explained a few key points and demonstrated how easy it was to ride one – mentioning that the tricky part was actually to dismount.

Twain soon realized that it was contrary to his own experience.

Although I was wholly inexperienced, I dismounted in the best time on record. He was on that side, shoving up the machine; we all came down with a crash, he at the bottom, I next, and the machine on top.

One crash followed after the other and regardless of how Twain, the bicycle or the instructor were positioned at the start of practice, the end result was always the same – instructor at the bottom, bicycle on top and Twain sandwiched between the two.

One of those practice runs even landed them in a hospital. Fortunately, the injuries were minor and Twain and his bicycle lived to tell the tale.

Twain notes: I attribute this to my prudence in always dismounting on something soft. Some recommend a feather bed, but I think an Expert is better.

The instructor was discharged from the hospital and shortly after, the practice sessions resumed – this time with four new assistants.

Twain continued to struggle with this new learning experiments; skills required to master this craft always seemed to be at loggerheads with his natural instincts. Seeing the error of his ways, Twain realized that he needed to do the intelligent thing – he needed to evolve.

The intellect has to come to the front now. It has to teach the limbs to discard their old education and adopt the new.

He ultimately draws learning from his struggles with the German languages to conquer his new enemy – the bicycle.

But I also see, by what I have learned of bicycling, that the right and only sure way to learn German is by bicycling method. That is to say, take a grip on one villainy of it at a time, and learn it – not ease up and shirk to the next, leaving that one half learned.

He continues to work his way around the bicycles – to master balance, art of mounting, art of steering and art of dismounting – all of which result in rather funny endings, but not without great lessons – mostly comic.

Mark Twain notes on the art of mounting: 

Then the mounting art is acquired and a little practice will make it simple and easy for you, though the spectators ought to keep a rod off or two to one side, along the first, if you have nothing against them.

And then the art of dismounting:

Try as you may, you don’t get down as you would from a horse, you get down as you would from a house afire. You make a spectacle of yourself every time.

After eight days of daily lessons, he is pronounced fit to paddle a bicycle without outside help. He tries to refute the argument that he could have done it himself without instruction by saying that such a  move could have been risky for him considering his natural clumsiness. 

Consider his thoughts on a self taught man, for example:

The self taught man seldom knows anything accurately.., and besides he brags, and is the means of fooling other thoughtless people into going and doing as he himself has done. There are those that imagine that the unlucky accidents of life – life’s experiences – are in some way useful to us. I wish I could find out how. I never knew one of them to happen twice. They always change off and swap around and catch you on your inexperienced side.

He concludes that receiving proper instruction could have more than one benefit and in case of cycling, that added benefit could be saving up on Pond’s extract.

So the instructor, after asking a few questions about his strength and receiving unsatisfactory answers, eventually leaves him with the advice to keep practicing.

Then he left me, and I started out alone to seek adventures. You don’t really have to seek them – that is nothing but a phrase – they come to you.

Devoid of the encouragement from the instructor and his assistants, Twain takes a rather solo journey of  learning the bicycle. However unbeknownst to him a boy  gives him company in his adventure, though not in the form he expected. He paints a rather funny picture of this boy and the way he supported him through his practice sessions.

He was full of interest and comment.The first time I failed and went down he said that if he was me he would dress up in pillows, that’s what he would do.The next time I went down he advised me to go and learn a tricycle first. The third time I collapsed he said he didn’t believe I could stay on a horse-car.

Of course, Twain does not let this teasing get to him, he continues on with his practice sessions marvelling at how the bicycle has exposed unknown areas of the path he had been using for years. Little stones, cats, dogs, anything that came along his way, was bound to make him lose control and bite the dust, his falls usually resulted in injuries to him, while the bicycle stayed indestructible. 

Dogs eventually presented a bigger challenge than the stones on the path:

They all liked to see me practice, and they all came, for there was very little going on in our neighborhood to entertain a dog. It took time to learn to miss a dog, but I achieved even that.

Twain leaves us with a little bicycle wisdom as well:

Get a bicycle. You will not regret it, if you live.

I am afraid I can say the same for this essay by Mark Twain. Grab your copy and read it now!

Reading this essay, in addition to grinning like an idiot when not guffawing like one, I couldn’t help but think of my initial bicycle learning days when I was a kid looking like the Vitruvian man both when sitting on and falling off my bicycle, calling my mom every time I mounted or dismounted it.

I thought my days were hard, but when I looked at this picture to see the bicycle Twain conquered, my own traumatic ‘bicyclical’ past faded away.

Mark Twain and his bicycle are my new favorite , and there ain’t gonna be no dismounting that bookshelf soon.

P.S. Assuming that I was able to convince you to read Taming the Bicycle by Mark Twain, and you eventually were able to find time to do so, what section did you like the most?

Did anything from the story remind you of your own bicycle adventures?

We would love to hear from you! 

The Canterville Ghost is a short story written by Oscar Wilde. It was first published in 1887. Unknown to many, this was his first published prose fiction work.

Contrary to what the title of the story may suggest, this is a humorous story at the core of which lies the differences in the American and British culture.

The Canterville Ghost: Plot Summary and Analysis

Mr. Otis , an American minister, was looking to buy Canterville Chase, a castle that  belonged to Sir Canterville. The castle was not inhabited by the Canterville family for decades now, the reason being that it was believed to be haunted.

Sir Canterville declared this upfront to Mr Otis, who discarding the haunted castle rumors offered to buy both the castle and ghost – at valuation.

Mr. Otis moved into the castle with his wife, his son (Washington), his daughter (Virginia) and his two younger twins and were greeted by the castle housekeeper, Mrs. Umney.

They noticed the blood stain in the hall and Mrs. Umney let them know that it was from when Sir Canterville brutally murdered his wife.

The family was far from spooked by this – rather proceeding to grab their cleaning supplies to scrub that spot right off the floor.

The stain came right off.

The following days, the blood stain re-appeared – although what was noticeable was that blood stain had different hues each time.

The family finally accepted there might be some truth to the rumors, but still went about their business as usual.

The ghost finally made an appearance one night and Mr Otis was the one to see him, but instead of being scared – he requested  that he put some oil into the chains so that he didn’t make so much noise while walking around in the night.

The ghost was surprised, as this was not the normal reaction he was accustomed to. Never in a brilliant and uninterrupted career of three hundred years, had he been so grossly insulted.

Taking this as an insult to his natural scaring power, he took it upon himself to make even bigger spectacles – what went on in the following days was actually opposite to what he imagined.

The kids attacked him pea shooters, and played elaborate pranks on him – on one occasion even scaring with a replica skeleton. Insulted and tired, the ghost eventually retired to his own room – feeling even more depressed.

Viriginia, Mr Otis’ daughter found him one day and was pained to see the ghost, visibly sad and distraught – who told her that he was very tired and had not slept in three hundred years.

He asked for her help – knowing that she had a compassionate heart – unlike the rest of her treacherous family.

She agreed to help him, although she was terrified of what lied ahead. They disappeared into a garden of death. 

Desperate search ensued to find Virginia – who was nowhere to be found. The family was distraught, as was the Duke of Cheshire, who had been courting Virginia for quite some time now.

Her mother was on the verge of a nervous breakdown, when Virginia finally came back to the house. She let the family know that Sir Simon Canterville, the ghost, was now at rest.

The ghost, in turn, had left her a box of rare jewels as a gift for her help.

Although Virginia never told anyone what happened in the garden of death, she always remembered Sir Simon with love and was thankful for sharing the wisdom:

Love is stronger than life and death.

Want to read The Canterville Ghost?

The Canterville Ghost is a short story which is published in a collection of short stories. You are welcome to use the links given below to check the price of this book:

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The Canterville Ghost: Review and My Thoughts

The story is a delightful read – more so because it did not turn out to be a tale of horror – which if truth be told, I do not have a stomach for.

Although the story still had a very profound message at the end, it was the characteristic humor that stood out for me.

So, you are buying a house and the first thing someone told you was that it was haunted.

What would your reaction be?

Mr Otis’ reaction on hearing this news was priceless.

I will take the furniture and the ghost at a valuation, answered the minister.

I wonder what Sir Canterville would have thought in his head, when he listened to that.

Not only that, he made it plainly clear that an incident or a commodity of that nature, if known in America, would be a rage.

I reckoned if there were such a thing as a ghost in Europe, we’d have it home in a very short time in one of our public museums, or on the road as a show.

Thinking that Mr Otis was not able to fully understand the gravity of situation at his hand, Sir Canterville made another attempt to explain.

The ghost has been well known for three centuries and always makes an appearance before the death of any member of the family, 

To which Mr Otis, quickly remarked – So does the family doctor for that matter

One hell of a lesson in lateral thinking, isn’t it?

There is no such thing as a ghost and I guess the laws of nature are not going to be suspended for the British Aristocracy.

Quite a jab at the British aristocracy there! 

British never seem to have seen eye to eye on their language:

… We really have everything in common with America nowadays, except of course, the language.

The story is replete with differences in the British and American culture, a product, I suppose, of Wilde’s experiences in America on his lecture tours there. He pays a little homage to H.W. Longfellow as well, a celebrated American poet.

Consider this –

He had hoped that even Modern Americans would be thrilled by the sight of a spectre in armour, if for no more sensible reason , at least out of respect for their national poet Longfellow, over whose graceful and attractive poetry he himself had whiled away many a weary hour when the Canterville were up in town.

Although this was a ghost story, I was still surprised to know that our ghost had actually killed his wife (I know people can be stupid, right?) for a reason that was even more surprising than the act itself – she was plain looking and didn’t cook well.

But having been rebuked by Virginia for that, he simply responds with-

Oh, I hate the cheap severity of abstract ethics. 

Made me think.

That is after picked myself up from the floor laughing.

Have you ever been in a situation when you were approached by a distant relative of a friend of a friend’s friend, whom you don’t know and have never heard of before, and they asked you for a favor?

If so, A Helpless Situation by Mark Twain is sure to take you for a stroll down the memory lane with the added bonus of his wit and humor.

A Helpless Situation: A Brief Summary

In this short story, published as part of his collection The 30000 Bequest, he recounts his past experience of dealing with people asking him for favors just because he knew their relatives at some point in his life – whom he doesn’t clearly even remember now.

He responds to the request via a letter, a letter wherein he mentions a hypothetical conversation with his publisher about a recommendation for the ‘seeker’ (for the sake of simplicity, let’s call this person a seeker)

He refers to the letters that he receives asking for favors, talking to them in complete disbelief, clearly mocking the senders of those artifacts.

“I have seen you a thousand times, you always look the same way, yet you are always a wonder, and you are always impossible; to contrive you is clearly beyond human genius – you can’t exist, you don’t exist, yet here you are!”

Mark Twain is amazed by the extent these distant relatives of friends go to seek favors, knowing fully well that there is no way for the ‘influential’ person to actually know anything about them to provide a recommendation. The criterion for them to reach out is simply that the person should be influential.

“In a word, to every person who is supposed to have influence. It always follows the one pattern : “You do not know me, BUT YOU ONCE KNEW A RELATIVE OF MINE.”

He expresses helplessness in this situation also indicating that someone keen and talented would not be resorting to such means.

Well, there is not a thing we can do that would be a help, for not in any instance does the latter ever come from anyone who CAN be helped.

His logical stance to describe his helplessness is no less humorous than it is eye-opening (for all of us seekers out there!)

The tribute to Mr Twain’s funny take cannot be over without reproducing at least a portion from the letter he sends to the seeker eventually hypothesizing the conversation that might have happened if he decided to send the recommendation.

So, here goes:

Publisher: She must have thought that you knew her literature and could speak for it. Is that it?

Twain: No, she knew I didn’t.

Publisher: Well, what then? She had a reason of some sort for believing you competent to recommend her literature, and also under obligations to do it?

Twain: Yes, I knew her uncle

Publisher: Knew her uncle?

Twain: That isn’t all, there are other ties. I know the cabin her uncle lived in, in the mines, I knew his partners, too; also I came near knowing her husband before she married him.

The comedy doesn’t end here though. 

Publisher: How can you know it when you don’t remember it?

Twain : I don’t know. That is, I don’t know the process, but I do know a lot of things that I don’t remember and remember a lot of things that I don’t know. It’s so with every educated person.

Publisher: Is your time valuable?

Twain: No. Well, not very.

Publisher: Mine is.

Not all of us have the wit to reply to a distant relative of a barely known friend asking us favors the same way as Mark Twain, but now thanks to A Helpless Situation, we do know how to tell them where to go, without actually saying the words.

A Telephonic Conversation is a short story written by Mark Twain. It talks about a telephonic conversation that ensues between a woman and her friend, a Mrs.Bagley, while the woman’s husband passively listens to a one-sided conversation writing an article on a philosophical subject in the meantime.

Telephone

What comes to mind when you read this word somewhere or some old relative says that to you?

For me, the sound of the word immediately brings back memories from childhood, and if not that scenes from old Hollywood movies with the device demanding familial attention with its loud and incessant trrrring, trring and the receiver immediately rushing to it, holding one piece to the mouth and another to the ear. 

People talking on the phone, as if expecting their voice to reach the other person without the telephone, and in the process, shushing every other sound made in the entire household. I get carried away in a whole different world

So, why am I suddenly talking about telephones?

I recently read a short story by Mark Twain, part of his collection, The 30000 Bequest.

I read the story and couldn’t help but smile. And well, Good things are supposed to be shared.

So here’s a sneak peek into the humor-filled world of Mark Twain’s telephonic conversation.

A Telephonic Conversation: Summary and Plot Analysis

The story revolves around a telephonic conversation that ensues between a woman and her friend, a Mrs.Bagley, while the woman’s husband passively listens to a one sided conversation writing an article on a philosophical subject in the meantime.

There is something very relatable about the story, something that almost all of us can relate to, at some level.

Here is a small excerpt..

Yes, Why? How did that happen?

Pause

What did you say?

Pause

Oh No, I don’t think it was

Pause.

Humans have an innate tendency to attempt to fill in the blanks whichever way they can. I am sure you could remember some homework back from your school, where you were supposed to fill in the blanks..

The dog jumped _______ the bridge.

Name of the President of X country is ______.

If x = 2, then 2X =_______

Now take the earlier conversation and fill in the pauses. The result could be funny, your homemade version of Netflix for a lazy evening, if I may.

The comments of the husband delivered in a typical deadbeat manner, were funny.

Subtle complaint about the the woman’s volume when talking on the phone –

I heard the following remarkable series of observations, all from the one tongue, and all shouted – for you can’t ever persuade the sex to speak gently into a telephone.

It might not be your wife that does it today, with smart phones and all, but I can bet you know an elderly female relative or two that will fit that description.

In closing the story Mark Twain presents this little monologue.

Must you go? Well, Good-by.

Pause.

Yes, I think so. Good-by.

Pause.

Four o’clock then – I’ll be ready. Good-by.

Pause.

Thank you ever so much. Good by.

Pause

..

..

When the woman finally hangs up, she does not do that without a sigh ‘Oh, it does tire a person’s arm so!’

Witnessing all this here is what the husband says

A man delivers a single brutal “Good-By”, and that is the end of it. Not so with the gentle sex – I say in their praise; they can not abide abruptness.

My thoughts on the story

The USP of this little story is its relatability. It is something that we see happening around us ever so often.

Taking such a mundane thing and turning into stuff that makes you smile.

That’s the genius of Mark Twain and his telephonic conversation.

The 30000 Bequest is a short story written by renowned American author Mark Twain. It was first published in a collection of short stories. This story revolves around the devastating effects of union of fantasy and finance.

Picture this:

You are walking down the street mindlessly and  you suddenly come across a beautiful young woman. Your immediate reaction is to tuck your bulging stomach in, and you smile your goofy smile – charming in your head and totally awkward in reality – imagining having that beauty as your doting girlfriend, having a mansion for a house, a Ferrari for a casual stroll car, when suddenly you see being yanked into a highly crowded subway train, failing to notice the door closing on your face.

The beautiful woman is nowhere to be seen and somehow you have managed to sleepwalk in broad daylight for a straight 15 minutes right up till the subway train that takes you to work.

You let out a sigh and well, get on with your day.

Seems far fetched, eh?

I bet you have seen at least a couple of variants of this seemingly inexplicable occurrence in some television show or some movie if you haven’t lived at least a dialed down version of this episode yourself at some point in your life.

But what am I going on and on about this imagination when we are here to have a discussion about Mark Twain’s short story The 30000 Bequest?

Two words:  Spoiler Alert.

The 30000 Bequest: Summary and Plot Analysis

The story is set in a small town called Lakeside and boasts of about 6000 residents. Everyone knows everyone and their dogs. People are religious and friendly.

The protagonist Saladin Foster was the only high-salaried book keeper in the town in his mid-thirties, who lived in the town with his wife Electra and their two daughters – Clytie and Gwen.

Electra is a devoted wife and has brought the family a significant sum of money through her calculated financial ventures. She is a happy and pleased woman.

Saladin (Sally) and Electra (Aleck) are both practical and diligent in all their endeavors during the day, but in the night, in each other’s company, the romantic version of their lives comes alive.

All in all, they live a happy life.

One day, they receive news from Sally’s distant relative Tilbury Foster, from a neighboring state, who mentions that he would be leaving 30000 bequest for them in his will, provided that they make no inquiries about him and do not attend his funeral.

The couple, failing to properly register the oddity of the request, immediately start multiplying the imaginary money in their heads through a variety of financial investments.

Although pretty harmless and comparatively limited in the beginning, their imagination begins to spiral out of control pretty quickly.

The constant wait for the ‘good news’ of their relative’s demise meddles with their natural healthy familial state.

They find themselves losing patience at the drop of a hat, quarreling with each other and constantly distracted while performing their usual duties.

In a world where both of them have managed to multiply their imaginary wealth running into billions and made powerful contacts in the country and abroad, they keep rejecting proposals for their daughters. They are resolute on marrying them into nobody less than royalty.

The husband and wife, who had once been so loyal and dedicated to each other, start finding flaws in one another, imaginary vices that they seemed to have acquired with their enormous wealth.

Then, one day, the editor and proprietor of the Sagamore pays them a visit to remind them of their overdue payment of subscription, which the Fosters had missed for the last four years.

Giddy with excitement to receive a visitor that they thought could only bring them good news of the relative’s death, they are heartbroken when they are told that Tilbury Foster died five years ago!

Crestfallen upon receiving this terrible news, Sally and Electra sit motionless for hours, not realizing the departure of their guest.

The dashed hopes do an irreparable damage to their mental health and they die a couple of years later.

On his deathbed, Sally reflects on the disasters of unnatural wealth acquisition:

Vast wealth, acquired by sudden and unwholesome means, is a snare. It did us no good, transient were its feverish pleasures; yet for its sake, we threw away our sweet and simple and happy life – let others take warning by us.

Want to read The 30000 Bequest by Mark Twain?

The 30000 Bequest is a short story which is published in a novel alongwith other short stories written by Mark Twain. You can use the links given below to buy this short story collection on Amazon:

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The 30000 Bequest: Quotes and Review

It’s so interesting to see the progression from contentment to cautious to frivolous and dangerous imagination and the havoc that it wreaked on their lives.

Here’s the happy:

“Happy in her husband, happy in her children and the husband and the children were happy in her.”

The cautious:

“Don’t lose your head so. We must not subscribe till we’ve got the money. Don’t you know that?”

The frivolous:

“Money had brought him (Tilbury Foster) misery, and he took revenge upon us, who had done him no harm. He had his desire: with base and cunning calculation he left us but thirty thousand, knowing we would try to increase it, and ruin our life and break our hearts.”

The story has a grim ending but there is a little characteristic Mark Twain witty relief.

Recall the brainstorming session that the couple had trying to come up with an excuse to throw a party to celebrate their imaginary wealth. As there were no birthday or any specific occasion to celebrate, the couple came up with an ingenious idea:

But at last he hit it – just by sheer inspiration, as it seemed to him – and all their troubles were gone in a moment; they would celebrate the Discovery of America. A splendid idea!

Let me take you back to a quick trip down the short term memory lane. Remember the guy sleep-walking his way up to his train at the Subway station I told you about at the beginning of this article?

Does that idea seem more plausible to you now?

What I got from the story is that – Crazy imagination is hilarious, when the subject is not you.

Hope can be slippery sometimes.

Tread with caution, friends of words!