Mr. Wynkoop--By the way, dear, here is a letter that came to-day.
    Mrs. Wynkoop--Ah, yes, to be sure. It's from Sarah, dated ten days ago. Mr. Wynkoop, I think it's an outrage for you to lug my letters around in your musty, damp pockets for a week at a time. If necessary, I'll--
    Mr. Wynkoop--You are mistaken; that letter arrived this morning.
    Mrs. Wynkoop--It did, did it? in soiled condition; ten days from Staunton? That's a likely story.
    Mr. Wynkoop--You do me great injustice, my dear; this letter came by the train that was wrecked at Charlottesville and that accounts for the delay.
    Mrs. Wynkoop--That accounts for it, does it? Then how do you account for the fact that the postmark on the back of the letter shows it was received at the post-office in this city the day after it was mailed at Staunton? Mr. Wynkoop, you cannot remember anything over three minutes; it's a wonder you don't forget to draw your salary.
    Mr. Wynkoop--Madam, I have a good memory; this is an outrageous attack upon me.
    Mrs. Wynkoop--Good memory, indeed! I'll wager my prospective winter bonnet against $10 that you cannot go to church to-morrow and remember Dr. Lamb's text; you need not try to recollect a thing except the text.
    Mr. Wynkoop--I accept the proposition, and I promise you that you will have a fine time regretting your hasty action.

    Yesterday Mr. Wynkoop occupied a front pew in church. The text was:

An angel of the Lord came down from heaven and seized a live coal from near the horns of the altar.

    Mr. Wynkoop did not remain to hear the discourse, but dashed home and exclaimed to his wife: "You may go ahead and brush up your old bonnet; I have the text."
    Mrs. Wynkoop--Very well; what was it?
    Mr. Wynkoop--An Indian came down from New Haven and seized a live colt by the tail and jerked him out of the halter.

Source:

Unknown, "Mr. Wyncoop's Bad Memory, Tale of a Delayed Letter and a Preacher's Sunday Text," The Washington Post, Washington, D.C., Monday, 15 November 1897, p. 7.