Not QUITE the Classics Read Free Page A

that isn’t true,” Holmes retorted.
    I’m not sure why, but I burst into laughter and was at once mortified. “Please excuse us, Mrs. Hudson, but we are in the middle of a case that is quite—”
    â€œI don’t want to know about it,” she said. “I should have rented to accountants. They know how to treat a landlady, I’m sure.” She left in a huff.
    â€œWatson, it’s come!” Holmes held aloft a leather-bound book, quite thick and possessing that intoxicatingly musty odor exuded by only the most ancient of tomes.
    â€œWhat is it, Holmes?”
    â€œThis, my dear Watson, is the oldest joke book in existence. Philogelos: The Laugh Addict . Attributed to a pair of Greeks named Hierocles and Philagrius.”
    â€œSurely you can’t be thinking of using these jokes! They were written centuries ago! How could any of this be relatable today? This certainly will not help your erected comedy.”
    â€œStand-up comedy, Watson, stand-up. And you may be surprised to know that many of these jokes are still relatable to modern times. For example…” He quickly leafed through the book.
    â€œHa! No, no… That would only work if one knew that the ancients believed lettuce to be an aphrodisiac.” He raised an eyebrow at me. “You didn’t happen to know that, did you?”
    â€œNo, Holmes, I didn’t. Is there any reason I should?”
    â€œNo, no, of course not. Oh, here we go. ‘A misogynist is attending to the burial of his wife, who has just died, when someone asks: “Who is it who rests in peace here?” He answers: “Me, of course, now that I’m rid of her!”’”
    I allowed myself a chuckle. “Yes, I see, Holmes. I suppose drolleries about matrimonial life remain relevant regardless of the age.”
    Holmes continued to leaf through the book. “Not only matrimony but family relations, stupidity…” He stopped at a page. “Even flatulence. Things still relevant today.”
    A notion struck me. “I have to say, though—harkening back to your mathematical theory of joke telling—that particular quip you just relayed seemed to have too many beats. It seems to have thrown off the rhythm.”
    â€œWell done, Watson! We’ll make a thinking man of you yet.”
    â€œNow, there’s no reason to—”
    â€œI’m joking. You are right, there were too many syllables. Of course, I was translating from the original Greek, so I should be allowed some latitude. Watson, with my theories and with the aid of this learned tome, I may be on the brink of being funny.”
    â€œDear God, Holmes, if this discovery falls into the wrong hands, civilization as we know it could end.”
    Holmes punctured the awkward silence. “Ah yes. Exaggerism: an exaggerated witticism that overstates the features, defects, or the strangeness of someone or something. Well played, Doctor, well played.” And with that, he sprinted to his study.
    I did not see him until two o’clock the next afternoon. He leapt out of his room. (During the period leading up to his performance, Holmes never just walked out of his study. He bounded, leapt, bobbed, hurtled, sprung, pounced, and one time, he gamboled.)
    â€œTell me, Doctor. Which is funnier: a goat or a duck?”
    â€œI beg your pardon?”
    â€œIt’s a simple query. Goat or duck?”
    â€œWell…duck.”
    At that, Holmes dropped down as if dodging a projectile. A few seconds later, he popped up. “Did you see what I did there? I mistook your meaning of duck and turned it into a humorous situation.”
    â€œHolmes, have you had any sleep?”
    â€œNo time. Awake or asleep, the duck misunderstanding is highly amusing. And you are right, duck is funnier. Do you know why?” Holmes raised an eyebrow.
    â€œBecause its alternative meaning allows you to do physical comedy.”
    â€œNo,