NOT long since a certain noble peer in Yorkshire, who is fond of boasting of his Norman descent, thus addressed one of his tenants, who, he thought, was not speaking to him with proper respect: "Do you not know that my ancestors came over with William the Conqueror?" "And, mayhap," retorted the sturdy Saxon, nothing daunted, "they found mine here when they comed." The noble lord felt that he had the worst of it.
BAD'S THE BEST.
MR. CANNING was once asked by an English clergyman how he had liked the sermon he had preached before him.
"Why, it was a short sermon," quoth Canning. "Oh, yes," said the preacher; "you know I avoid being tedious." "Ah, but," replied Canning, "you were tedious."
A CERTAIN man of pleasure, about London, received a challenge from a young gentleman of his acquaintance; and they met at the appointed place. Just before the signal for firing was given, the man of pleasure rushed up to his antagonist, embraced him, and vehemently protested that he could not lift his arm "against his own flesh and blood!" The young gentleman, though he had never heard any imputation cast upon his mother's character, was so much staggered, that (as the ingenious man of pleasure had foreseen) no duel took place.
HUMPHREY HOWARTH, the surgeon, was called out, and made his appearance in the field, stark naked, to the astonishment of the challenger, who asked him what he meant. "I know," said H., "that if any part of the clothing is carried into the body, by a gunshot wound, festering ensues; and therefore I have met you thus." His antagonist declared, that fighting with a man in puris naturalibus, would be quite ridiculous; and accordingly they parted, without further discussion.
LORD ALVANLEY, on returning home, after his duel with young O'Connell, gave a guinea to the hackney-coachman, who had driven him out, and brought him back. The man, surprised at the largeness of the sum, said, "My lord, I only took you to ——." Alvanley interrupted him, "My friend, the guinea is for bringing me back, not for taking me out."
TO kneel before your goddess, and burst both pantaloon straps.
TEACHING A FOREIGNER TO SPEAK ENGLISH.
MY friend, the foreigner, called on me to bid me farewell, before he quitted town, and on his departure, he said, "I am going at the country." I ventured to correct his phraseology, by saying that we were accustomed to say "going into the country." He thanked me for this correction and said he had profited by my lesson, and added, "I will knock into your door, on my return."—Memorials.
Experimental philosophy—asking a man to lend you money. Moral philosophy—refusing to do it.
SYDNEY SMITH, once upon a time, despatched a pretentious octavo, in the Edinburgh, with a critique, one paragraph in length; that achievement is matched by the disposal of a work in the Courier and Enquirer, as follows, by ingeniously employing the opening sentence of the book itself:—
"The History of Rasselas, Prince of Abyssinia. A Tale by SAMUEL JOHNSON, LL. D. A new edition, with illustrations. 12mo., pp. 206. New York: C. S. FRANCIS & CO.
"Ye who listen with credulity to the whispers of fancy, and pursue with eagerness the phantoms of hope; who expect that age will perform the promises of youth, and that deficiencies of the present day will be supplied by the morrow; attend to the history of Rasselas, Prince of Abyssinia."
SUTTON was part of the demesne of John of Gaunt, the celebrated Duke of Lancaster, who gifted it to an ancestor of the proprietor, Sir J. M. Burgoyne, as appears from the following quaint lines:—
"I, John of Gaunt, Do give and do grant, Unto Roger Burgoyne, And the heirs of his loin, Both Sutton and Potton, Until the world's rotten."
A KENTUCKIAN visited a merchant at New York, with whom, after dinner, he drank wine and smoked cigars, spitting on the carpet, much to the annoyance of his host, who desired a spittoon to be brought for his troublesome visitor; he, however, pushed it away with his foot, and when it was replaced, he kicked it away again, quite unaware of its use. When it had been thrice replaced, the Kentuckian drawled out to the servant who had brought it: "I tell you what; you've been pretty considerable troublesome with that ere thing, I guess; if you put it there again, I'm hung if I don't spit in it."
LANDSEER AND SIDNEY SMITH.
MR. LANDSEER, the best living animal painter, once asked the late Rev. Sydney Smith if he would grant him a sitting, whereupon the Rev. Canon biblically replied—"Is thy servant a dog that he should do this thing?"
"DO you want to buy a real lot of butter?" said a Yankee notion dealer, who had picked up a load at fifty different places, to a Boston merchant.
"What kind of butter is it?" asked the buyer.
"The clean quill; all made by my wife; a dairy of forty cows, only two churnings."
"But what makes it so many different colors?" said the merchant.
"Darnation! hear that, now. I guess you wouldn't ax that question if you'd see my cows, for they are a darned sight speckleder than the butter is."
A LOGICAL BAGGAGE MASTER.
THE post of baggage master on a railroad train is not an enviable one. There is often a wide difference between the company's regulations, and the passenger's opinion of what articles, and what amount of them, properly come under the denomination of baggage; and this frequently subjects the unlucky official of the trunks and bandbox department to animated discussions with a certain class of the traveling public. We heard lately an anecdote of George, the affable B. M. on Capt. Cobb's train on the Virginia and Tennessee road, which is too good to be lost. A passenger presented himself at a way station on the road, with two trunks and a saddle for which he requested checks. The baggage master promptly checked the trunks, but demanded the extra charge of twenty-five cents for the saddle. To this the passenger demurred, and losing his temper, peremptorily asked:—
"Will you check my baggage, sir?"
"Are you a horse?" quietly inquired George.
"What do you mean, sir?" exclaimed the irritated traveler.
"You claim to have this saddle checked as baggage?"
"Certainly—it is baggage," positively returned the passenger.
"Well," said the imperturbable George, "by the company's regulations nothing but wearing apparel is admitted to be baggage, and if the saddle is your wearing apparel, of course you must be a horse! Now, sir, just allow me to strap it on your back, and it shall go to the end of the road without any extra charge whatever."
The traveller paid his quarter and offered George his hat.—Bristol News.
A PHYSICIAN'S LIFE.
NOTHING vexes a physician so much as to be sent for in great haste, and to find, after his arrival, that nothing, or next to nothing, is the matter with his patient. We remember an "urgent case" of this kind, recorded of an eminent English surgeon.
He had been sent for by a gentleman who had just received a slight wound, and gave his servant orders to go home with all haste imaginable, and fetch a certain plaster. The patient turning a little pale, said:
"Heavens, sir! I hope there is no danger!"
"Indeed there is!" answered the surgeon: "for if the fellow doesn't run there like a cart horse, the wound will be healed before he can possibly get back."
THE following conversation occurred between a theatrical manager and an aspirant for Thespian honors:
"What is your pleasure?" asked the manager.
"An engagement at your theatre," said the applicant.
"But you stammer."
"You are very small."
"You speak monotonously."
"And through the nose."
"And you make faces."
"You have badly shaped legs."
"And brawny arms."
"An obese person."
"But you unite the defects of all these stars."
"Th-th-that's just it. If you engage me, you will need no stars at all."
"PA, what is the interest of a kiss?" asked a sweet sixteen of her sire. "Well, really, I don't know. Why do you ask?" "Because George borrowed a kiss from me last night, and said he would pay it back with interest after we were married."
ONE long summer afternoon there came to Mr. Davidson's the most curious specimen of an old bachelor the world ever heard of. He was old, gray, wrinkled, and odd. He hated women, especially old maids, and wasn't afraid to say so. He and aunt Patty had it hot and heavy, whenever chance threw them together; yet still he came, and it was noticed that aunt Patty took unusual pains with her dress whenever he was expected. One day the contest waged unusually strong. Aunt Patty left him in disgust and went out into the garden. "The bear!" she muttered to herself, as she stooped to gather a blossom which attracted her attention.
"What did you run away for?" said a gruff voice close to her side.
"To get rid of you."
"You didn't do it, did you?"
"No, you are worse than a burdock bur."
"You won't get rid of me neither."
"I won't! eh?"
"Only in one way."
"What! us two fools get married? What will people say?"
"That's nothing to us. Come, say yes or no, I'm in a hurry."
"Well, no, then."
"Very well, good bye. I shan't come again."
"But stop a bit—what a pucker to be in!"
"Yes or no?"
"I must consult"—
"All right—I thought you was of age. Good bye."
"Jabez Andrews, don't be a fool. Come back, come back, I say. Why, I believe the critter has taken me for earnest. Jabez Andrews, I'll consider."
"I don't want no considering. I'm gone. Becky Hastings is waiting for me. I thought I'd give you the first chance. All right. Good bye."
"Jabez! Jabez! That stuck up Becky Hastings shan't have him, if I die for it. Jabez—yes. Do you hear? Y-e-s!"
AMUSING INCIDENT IN COURT.
AT the Durham assizes, a very deaf old lady, who had brought an action for damages against a neighbor, was being examined, when the Judge suggested a compromise, and instructed counsel to ask her what she would take to settle the matter. "What will you take?" asked a gentleman in a bob-tailed wig, of the old lady. The old lady merely shook her head at the counsel, informing the jury, in confidence, that "she was very hard o' hearing." "His lordship wants to know what you will take?" asked the counsel again, this time bawling as loud as ever he could in the old lady's ear. "I thank his lordship kindly," the ancient dame answered stoutly, "and if it's no ill convenience to him, I'll take a little warm ale." (Roars of laughter.)—English Paper.
THEODORE HOOK, in describing a badly dressed dinner, observed that everything was sour but the vinegar.
PRINTER AND DUTCHMAN.
SELDOM does a live Dutchman get the credit of more smart things than are set down to him in this catechism that he puts to a journeyman printer.
A Dutchman sitting at the door of his tavern in the Far West, is approached by a tall, thin Yankee, who is emigrating westward on foot, with a bundle on a cane over his shoulder:
"Vell, Misther Valking Sthick, vat you vant?"
"Rest and refreshments," replied the printer.
"Super and lotchin, I reckon?"
"Yes, supper and lodging, if you please."
"Pe ye a Yankee peddler, mit chewelry in your pack, to sheat the gals?"
"No, sir, I am no Yankee peddler."
"A singin'-master, too lazy to work?"
"A shenteel shoemaker, vat loves to measure te gals' feet and hankles petter tan to make te shoes?"
"No, sir, or I should have mended my own shoes."
"A pook achent, vat podders te school committees till they do vat you vish, shoost to get rid of you?"
"Guess again, sir. I am no book agent."
"Te tyfels! a dentist, preaking te people's jaws at a dollar a shnag, and running off mit my daughter?"
"No sir, I am no tooth-puller."
"Prenologus, ten, feeling te young folks, heads like so much cabbitch?"
"No, I am no phrenologist."
"Vell, ten, vat the mischief can you be? Shoost tell, and ye shall have te pest sassage for supper, and shtay all night, free gratis, mitout a cent, and a shill of whiskey to start mit in te morning."
"I am an humble disciple of Faust—a professor of the art that preserves all arts—a typographer at your service."
"A printer, sir: a man that prints books and newspapers."
"A man vat printish nooshpapers! oh yaw! yaw! ay, dat ish it. A man vat printish nooshpapers! Yaw! yaw! Valk up! a man vat printish nooshpapers! I vish I may pe shot if I didn't dink you vas a poor old dishtrict schoolmaster, who verks for notting and poards around—I tought you vas him!"
TRUTH STRANGER THAN FICTION.
A NEW ORLEANS lady recently eloped, leaving a note, bidding her idolizing husband good bye, and requesting him not to mourn for the children, as "none of them were his."
TELLING ONE'S AGE.
A LADY, complaining how rapidly time stole away, said, "Alas! I am near thirty." Scarron, who was present, and knew her age, said, "Do not fret at it, madam; for you will get further from that frightful epoch every day."
ALL FLESH IS DUST.
"MAMMA," said a promising youth of some four or five years, "if all people are made of dust, ain't niggers made of coal-dust?"
AT a time when public affairs were in a very unsettled state, a gentleman, who squinted terribly, asked Talleyrand how things were going on. "Why, as you see, Sir," was the reply.
KITCHINER AND COLMAN.
THE most celebrated wits and bon vivans of the day graced the dinner-table of the late Dr. Kitchiner, and, inter alios, the late George Colman, who was an especial favourite; his interpolation of a little monosyllable in a written admonition which the doctor caused to be placed on the mantel-piece of the dining-parlour will never be forgotten, and was the origin of such a drinking bout as was seldom permitted under his roof. The caution ran thus: "Come at seven, go at eleven." Colman briefly altered the sense of it; for, upon the Doctor's attention being directed to the card, he read, to his astonishment, "Come at seven, go it at eleven!" which the guests did, and the claret was punished accordingly.
AMONG the witty aphorisms upon this unsafe topic, are Lord Alvanley's description of a man who "muddled away his fortune in paying his tradesmen's bills;" Lord Orford's definition of timber, "an excrescence on the face of the earth, placed there by Providence for the payment of debts;" and Pelham's argument, that it is respectable to be arrested, because it shows that the party once had credit.
IN the reign of King William, it happened that the king had either chosen or actually taken this motto for his stage coach in Ireland: "Non rapui, sed recepi,"—"I did not steal it, but received it," alluding to his being called to the throne by the people. This was reported to Swift by one of the court emissaries. "And what," said he to the Dean, "do you think the Prince of Orange has chosen for his motto?" "Dutch cheese," said the Dean. "No," said the gentleman, "but 'non rapui, sed recepi.'" "Aye," said the Dean, "but it is an old saying and a true one, 'The receiver is as bad as the thief.'"
A SHOWMAN giving entertainments in Lafayette, Ind., was offered by one man a bushel of corn for admission. The manager declined it, saying that all the members of his company had been corned for the last week.
THE SEWING MACHINE.
"WHAT do you think of the new sewing machine?" inquired a gentleman of his friend, who was somewhat of a wag. "Oh," replied the punster, "I consider it a capital make shift."
AN Irish officer, in battle, happening to bow, a cannon ball passed over his head, and took off the head of a soldier who stood behind him; "You see," said he, "that a man never loses by politeness."
GEORGE SELWYN, as everybody knows, delighted in seeing executions; he never missed being in at a death at Tyburn. When Lord Holland (the father of Charles Fox) was confined to bed, by a dangerous illness, he was informed by his servant that Mr. Selwyn had recently called to inquire for him. "On his next visit," said Lord Holland, "be sure you let him in, whether I am alive or a corpse; for, if I am alive, I shall have great pleasure in seeing him; and if I am a corpse, he will have great pleasure in seeing me."
LORD ELDON (the Chancellor) related of his predecessor, Lord Erskine, that, being at a dinner party with Captain Parry, after his first voyage of discovery, he (Lord Erskine) asked the intrepid navigator, what himself and his hardy crew lived on, when frozen up in the polar seas. "On the Seals, to be sure," replied Parry. "And a very good living, too," said the ex-chancellor, "if you keep them long enough!"—Twiss's Life of Lord Eldon.
I SHALL be off to the Highlands this fall; but cuss 'em, they han't got no woods there; nuthin' but heather, and that's only high enough to tear your clothes. That's the reason the Scotch don't wear no breeches; they don't like to get 'em ragged up that way for everlastinly; they can't afford it; so they let 'em scratch and tear their skin, for that will grow agin, and trousers won't.—Sam Slick.
LORD ELLENBOROUGH had infinite wit. When the income-tax was imposed, he said that Lord Kenyon (who was not very nice in his habits) intended, in consequence of it, to lay down—his pocket-handkerchief.
A lawyer, one day, pleading before him, and using several times, the expression, "my unfortunate client," Lord Ellenborough suddenly interrupted him: "There, sir, the court is with you."
THE following is the next best thing to the evidence concerning the stone "as big as a piece of chalk." "Were you traveling on the night this affair took place?" "I should say I was, Sir." "What kind of weather was it? Was it raining at the time?" "It was so dark that I could not see it raining; but I felt it dropping, though." "How dark was it?" "I had no way of telling; but it was not light, by a jug full." "Can't you compare it to something?" "Why, if I was going to compare it to anything, I should say it was about as dark as a stack of black cats."
AN UP AND DOWN REPLY.
DURING the examination of a witness, as to the locality of stairs in a house, the counsel asked him, "Which way the stairs ran?" The witness, who, by the way, was a noted wag, replied, that "One way they ran up stairs, but the other way they ran down stairs." The learned counsel winked both eyes and then took a look at the ceiling.
A WESTERN statesman, in one of his tours in the Far West, stopped all night at a house, where he was put in the same room with a number of strangers. He was very much annoyed by the snoring of two persons. The black boy of the hotel entered the room, when our narrator said to him:
"Ben, I will give you five dollars if you will kill that man next to me who snores so dreadfully."
"Can't kill him for five dollars, but if massa will advance on the price, I'll try what I can do."
By this time the stranger had ceased his nasal fury. The other was now to be quieted. So stepping to him he woke him, and said:
"My friend, [he knew who he was,] you're talking in your sleep, and exposing all the secrets of the Brandon Bank, [he was a director,] you had better be careful."
He was careful, for he did not go to sleep that night.
"DADDY," said a hopeful urchin to his parental relative, "why don't our schoolmaster send the editor of the newspaper an account of all the lickings he gives to the boys?"
"I don't know, my son," replied the parent, "but why do you ask me such a question?"
"Why, this paper says that Mr. B. has tanned three thousand hides at his establishment during the past year, and I know that old Grimes has tanned our hides more'n twice that many times—the editor ought to know it."
A PRINTER IN COURT.
A SUIT came on the other day in which a printer named Kelvy was a witness. The case was an assault and battery that came off between two men named Brown and Henderson.
"Mr. Kelvy, did you witness the affair referred to?"
"Well, what have you to say about it?"
"That it was the best piece of punctuation I have seen for some time."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Why, that Brown dotted one of Henderson's eyes, for which Henderson put a period to Brown's breathing for about half a minute."
The court comprehended the matter at once, and fined the defendant fifty dollars.
TAKING THE PAPER.
"SIR," said a pompous personage who once undertook to bully an editor, "do you know that I take your paper?" "I've no doubt you take it," replied the man of the quill, "for several of my honest subscribers have been complaining lately about their papers being missing in the morning."
IT is stated that the Rev. George Trask, of Pittsburg, lectured so powerfully in Webster, a few days ago, against the use of tobacco, that several of his audience went home and burned their cigars—holding one end of them in their mouths.
HOW "GEORGE" BECAME A TEETOTALER.
A SHORT time since, a young man living in Ogdensburgh, N. Y., whose name we shall call George, took to drinking rather more than usual, and some of his friends endeavored to cure him. One day, when he was in rather a loose condition, they got him in a room, and commenced conversing about delirium tremens, directing all their remarks to him, and telling him what fearful objects, such as snakes and rats, were always seen by the victims of this horrible disease. When the conversation had waxed high on this theme, one of the number stepped out of the room, and from a trap which was at hand let a large rat into the room. None of his friends appeared to see it, but the young man who was to be the victim seized a chair and hurled it at the rat, completely using up the piece of furniture in the operation. Another chair shared the same fate, when his friends seized him, and with terror depicted on their faces, demanded to know what was the matter.
"Why, don't you see that cursed big rat?" said he, pointing to the animal, which, after the manner of rats, was making his way round the room, close to the walls.
They all saw it, but all replied that they didn't see it—"there was no rat."
"But there is!" said he, as another chair went to pieces in an ineffectual attempt to crush the obnoxious vermin.
At this moment they again seized him, and after a terrific scuffle threw him down on the floor, and with terror screamed—
"Charley! run for a doctor!"
Charley started for the door, when George desired to be informed "what the devil was up."
"Up!" said they, "why, you've got the delirium tremens!"
Charley opened the door to go out, when George raised himself on his elbow, and said, "Charley, where are you going?"
"Going!" said Charley, "going for a doctor."
"Going for a doctor!" rejoined George; "for what?"
"For what?" repeated Charley, "why, you've got the delirium tremens!"
"The delirium tremens—have I?" repeated George. "How do you know I've got the delirium tremens?"
"Easy enough," says Charley; "you've commenced seeing rats."
"Seeing rats!" said George, in a sort of musing way; "seeing rats. Think you must be mistaken, Charley."
"Mistaken!" said Charley.
"Yes, mistaken," rejoined George. "I ain't the man—I haven't seen no rat!"
The boys let George up after that, and from that day to this he hasn't touched a glass of liquor, and "seen no rats"—not the first rat.
BISHOP BURNET, once preaching before Charles II., was much warmed by his subject, and uttering a religious truth in a very earnest manner, with great vehemence struck his fist upon the desk, and cried out in a loud voice, "Who dare deny this?" "Faith," observed the king, in a tone not quite so loud as the preacher, "nobody that is within the reach of that great fist of yours."
ANA FROM "MOORE'S LIFE."
MERCER mentioned that, on the death of the Danish ambassador here, (in Paris,) some commissaire of police, having come to the house for the purpose of making a proces verbal of his death, it was resisted by the suite, as an infringement of the ambassador's privilege, to which the answer of the police was, that Un ambassadeur des qu'il est mort, rentre dans la vie privee.—"An ambassador, when dead, returns to private life." Lord Bristol and his daughters came in the evening; the Rancliffes, too. Mr. Rich said, at dinner, that a cure (I forget in what part of France) asked him once, whether it was true that the English women wore rings in their noses? to which Mr. R. answered, that "in the north of England, near China, it was possible they might, but certainly not about London."
WE talked of Wordsworth's exceedingly high opinion of himself; and she mentioned, that one day, in a large party, Wordsworth, without anything having been previously said that could lead to the subject, called out suddenly, from the top of the table to the bottom, in his most epic tone, "Davy!" and, on Davy's putting forth his head, in an awful expectation of what was coming, said, "Do you know the reason why I published the 'White Doe' in quarto?" "No, what was it?" "To show the world my own opinion of it."
BUSHE told of an Irish country squire, who used, with hardly any means, to give entertainments to the militia, &c., in his neighborhood; and when a friend expostulated with him, on the extravagance of giving claret to these fellows, when whiskey punch would do just as well, he answered, "You are very right, my dear friend; but I have the claret on tick, and where the devil would I get credit for the lemons?" Douglas mentioned the story of some rich grazier, in Ireland, whose son went on a tour to Italy, with express injunctions from the father, to write to him whatever was worthy of notice. Accordingly, on his arrival in Italy, he wrote a letter, beginning as follows: "Dear Father, the Alps is a very high mountain, and bullocks bear no price." Lady Susan and her daughters, and the Kingstons, came in the evening, and all supped. A French writer mentions, as a proof of Shakspeare's attention to particulars, his allusion to the climate of Scotland, in the words, "Hail, hail, all hail!"—Grele, grele, toute grele.
MET Luttrell on the Boulevards, and walked with him. In remarking rather a pretty woman who passed, he said, "The French women are often in the suburbs of beauty, but never enter the town." Company at Lord Holland's, Allen, Henry Fox, the black Fox, (attached to the embassy,) Denon, and, to my great delight, Lord John Russell, who arrived this morning. Lord Holland told, before dinner, (a propos of something,) of a man who professed to have studied "Euclid," all through, and upon some one saying to him, "Well, solve me that problem," answered, "Oh, I never looked at the cuts."
AFTER Williams and I had sung one of the "Irish melodies," somebody said, "Everything that's national, is delightful." "Except the National Debt, ma'am," says Poole. Took tea at Vilamil's, and danced to the piano-forte. Wrote thirteen or fourteen lines before I went out. In talking of the organs in Gall's craniological system, Poole said he supposed a drunkard had a barrel organ.
DINED at Lattin's: company, Lords Holland, John Russell, Thanet, and Trimelstown; Messrs. Maine de Biron and Denon, Luttrel and Concannon. Abundance of noise and Irish stories from Lattin; some of them very good. A man asked another to come and dine off boiled beef and potatoes, with him. "That I will," says the other; "and it's rather odd it should be exactly the same dinner I had at home for myself, barring the beef." Some one, using the old expression about some light wine he was giving, "There's not a head-ache in a hogshead of it," was answered; "No, but there's a belly-ache in every glass of it." Denon told an anecdote of a man, who, having been asked repeatedly to dinner, by a person whom he knew to be but a shabby Amphitryon, went at last, and found the dinner so meagre and bad, that he did not get a bit to eat. When the dishes were removing, the host said, "Well, now the ice is broken, I suppose you will ask me to dine with you, some day."—"Most willingly." "Name your day, then."—"Aujourd'hui par example," answered the dinnerless guest. Luttrel told of a good phrase of an attorney's, in speaking of a reconciliation that had taken place between two persons whom he wished to set by the ears, "I am sorry to tell you, sir, that a compromise has broken out between the parties."
A PERSON meeting a friend running through the rain, with an umbrella over him, said, "Where are you running to in such a hurry, like a mad mushroom?"
A YANKEE, whose face had been mauled in a pot-house brawl, assured General Jackson that he had received his scars in battle. "Then," said Old Hickory, "be careful the next time you run away, and don't look back."
"THERE can be no doubt," said Mrs. Nickleby, "that he is a gentleman, and has the manners of a gentleman, and the appearance of a gentleman, although he does wear smalls, and gray worsted stockings. That may be eccentricity, or he may be proud of his legs. I don't see why he shouldn't be. The Prince Regent was proud of his legs, and so was Daniel Lambert, who was also a fat man; he was proud of his legs. So was Miss Biffin: she was—no, "added Mrs. Nickleby, correcting herself, "I think she had only toes, but the principle is the same."—Dickens.
THERE is a young man in Cincinnati, who is so modest that he will not "embrace an opportunity." He would make a good mate for the lady who fainted when she heard of the naked truth.
SOMEBODY once remarked, that the Englishman is never happy, but when he is miserable; the Scotchman is never at home, but when he is abroad; and the Irishman is never at peace, but when he is fighting.
A DUTCH JURY.
JUDGE JONES, of Indiana, who never allows a chance for a joke to pass him, occupied the bench when it became necessary to obtain a juryman in a case in which L——and B—— were employed as counsel. The former was an illiterate Hibernian, the latter decidedly German in his modes of expression:
The sheriff immediately proceeded to look around the room in search of a person to fill the vacant seat, when he espied a Dutch Jew, and claimed him as his own. The Dutchman objected.
"I can't understant goot Englese."
"What did he say?" asked the judge.
"I can't understant goot Englese," he repeated.
"Take your seat," cried the judge, "take your seat; that's no excuse. You are not likely to hear any of it!"
Under that decision he took his seat.
A YELLOW FEVER JOKE.
THE Mobile Advertiser, of the 19th ult., tells the following good story of a notorious practical joker of that city, yclept "Straight-back Dick." Dick was at the wharf, one day last week, when one of the up river boats arrived. He watched closely the countenance of each passenger as he stepped from the plank upon the wharf, and at length fastened his gaze upon an individual, who, from his appearance and manner, was considerably nearer Mobile than he had ever been before. He was evidently ill at ease, and had probably heard the reports which were rife in the country relative to the hundreds dying in Mobile every hour from yellow fever. The man started off towards Dauphin street, carpet sack in hand, but had not proceeded far when a heavy hand was laid upon his shoulder, and he suddenly stopped. Upon turning round, he met the cold, serious countenance of Dick, and it seemed to send a thrill of terror throughout his whole frame. After looking at him steadily for about a minute, Dick slowly ejaculated:
"Yes, you are the man. Stand straight!"
With fear visible in his countenance, the poor fellow essayed to do as commanded.
"Straighter yet!" said Dick. "There, that will do," and taking from his pocket a small tape measure, he stooped down and measured him from the sole of his boot to the crown of his hat, took a pencil and carefully noted the height in his pocket book, to the utter amazement of the stranger; after which he measured him across the shoulders, and again noted the dimensions. He then looked the stranger firmly in the face and said:
"Sir, I am very sorry that it is so, but I really will not be able to finish it for you before morning."
"Finish what?" asked the stranger, endeavoring in vain to appear calm.
"Why, your coffin, to be sure! You see, I am the city undertaker, and the people are dying here so fast, that I can hardly supply the demand for coffins. You will have to wait until your turn comes, which will be to-morrow morning—say about 9 o'clock."
"But what do I want with a coffin? I have no idea of dying!"
"You haven't, eh? Sir, you will not live two hours and a half. I see it in your countenance. Why, even now, you have a pain—a slight pain—in your back."
"Y-yes, I believe I h-have," replied the trembling hoosier.
"Exactly," said Dick, "and in your limbs too?"
"Yes, stranger, you're right, and I begin to feel it in the back of my neck and head."
"Of course you do, and unless you do something for it, you'll be dead in a short time, I assure you. Take my advice now, go back aboard the boat, swallow down a gill of brandy, get into your state-room, and cover up with blankets. Stay there till you perspire freely, then leave here like lightning!"
Hoosier hurried on board the boat, and followed Dick's instructions to the letter. He says he never will forget the kindness of the tall man in Mobile, who gave him such good advice.
"BOY! did you let off that gun?" exclaimed an enraged schoolmaster.
"Well, what do you think I'll do to you?"
"Why, let me off!"
A GENTLEMAN expatiating upon the good looks of women, declared that he had never yet seen an ugly woman. One who was extremely flat nosed, said,
"Sir, I defy you not to find me ugly."
"You, madam," he replied, "are an angel fallen from heaven, only you have fallen on your nose."
A PRIEST said to a peasant whom he thought rude, "You are better fed than taught." "Shud think I was," replied the clodhopper, "as I feeds myself and you teaches me."
THE AUCTIONEER AT HOME.
AN auctioneer, vexed with his audience, said: "I am a mean fellow—mean as dirt—and I feel at home in this company."
SACKS AND BAGS.
MR. LOVER tells a good anecdote of an Irishman giving the pass-word at the battle of Fontenoy, at the same time the great Saxe was marshal.
"The pass-word is Saxe; now don't forget it, Pat," said the Colonel.
"Saxe! faith an' I won't. Wasn't me father a miller?"
"Who goes there?" cries the sentinel, after he had arrived at the pass.
Pat looked as confidential as possible, and whispered in a sort of howl,
"Bags, yer honor."
A SERVANT girl, on leaving her place, was accosted by her master as to her reason for leaving.
"Mistress is so quick-tempered that I cannot live with her," said the girl.
"Well," said the gentleman, "you know it is no sooner begun than it's over."
"Yes, Sir, and no sooner over than begun again."
QUID PRO QUO.
IN a case tried at the King's Bench, a witness was produced who had a very red nose; and one of the counsel, an impudent fellow, being desirous to put him out of countenance, called out to him, after he was sworn,
"Well, let's hear what you have to say, with your copper nose."
"Why, Sir," said he, "by the oath I have taken, I would not exchange my copper nose for your brazen face."
A GENTLEMAN from New York, who had been in Boston for the purpose of collecting some money due him in that city, was about returning, when he found that one bill of a hundred dollars had been overlooked. His landlord, who knew the debtor, thought it a doubtful case; but added that if it was collectable at all, a tall, rawboned Yankee, then dunning a lodger in another part of the hall, would "worry it out" of the man. Calling him up, therefore, he introduced him to the creditor, who showed him the account.
"Wall, Squire," said he, "'taint much use o' tryin', I guess. I know that critter. You might as well try to squeeze ile out of Bunker Hill Monument as to c'lect a debt out of him. But any how, Squire, what'll you give, sposin' I do try?"
"Well, Sir, the bill is one hundred dollars, I'll give you—yes, I'll give you half, if you'll collect it."
"'Greed," replied the collector, "there's no harm in tryin', any way."
Some weeks after, the creditor chanced to be in Boston, and in walking up Tremont street, encountered his enterprising friend.
"Look o' here," said he, "Squire. I had considerable luck with that bill o' yourn. You see, I stuck to him like a log to a root, but for the first week or so 'twant no use—not a bit. If he was home, he was short; if he wasn't home I could get no satisfaction. 'By the by,' says I, after goin' sixteen times, 'I'll fix you!' says I. So I sat down on the door-step, and sat all day and part of the evening, and I began airly next day; but about ten o'clock he 'gin in.' He paid me MY half, and I gin him up the note!"
AN Irishman was about to marry a Southern girl for her property. "Will you take this woman to be your wedded wife?" said the minister. "Yes, your riverence, and the niggers too," said Pat.
"WELL, Pat, Jimmy didn't quite kill you with a brickbat, did he?" "No, but I wish he had." "What for?" "So I could have seen him hung, the villain!"
MEAN vs. MEANS.
"IS Mr. Brown a man of means?" asked a gentleman of old Mrs. Fizzleton, referring to one of her neighbors. "Well I reckon he ought to be," drawled out the old bel-dame, "for he is just the meanest man in town."
WHAT HAPPENED TO OUR HOUSE.
ARTER we wus married, we'll say about a year, wun mornin' thar wus a terrible commoshun in our house—old wimmin a runnin in an out, and finally the Doctor he cum. I was in a great hurry myself, wantin to heer, I hardly noed what, but after a while, an ole granny of a woman, as had been very busy about that, poked her head into the room whar I was a walkin' about and ses:
Ses she, "Mr. Sporum, hit's a gal."
"What," ses I.
"A gal," ses she, an with that she pops her head back agin.
Well, thinks I, I'm the daddy uv a gal, and begin to feel my keepin' mitely—I'd rather it was a boy tho', thinks I, fur then he'd feel neerur to me, as how he'd bare my name and there be less chance fur the Sporums to run out, but considerin' everything, a gal will do mi'ty well. Jist then the ole nuss pokes her head out agin and ses,
Ses she, "Anuther wun, Mr. Sporum; a fine boy."
"Anuther," ses I, "that's rather crowdin' things on to a feller."
She laffed and poked her he'd back. Well, thinks I, this is no joke sure, at this lick I'll have family enuff to do me in a few years.
Jis then the ole she devil (always shall hate her) pokes her he'd in, and ses,
Ses she, "Anuther gal, Mr. Sporum."
"Anuther whot," ses I.
"Anuther gal," ses she.
"Well," ses I, "go rite strate and tell Sal I won't stand it, I don't want 'em, and I ain't goin' to have 'em; dus she think I'm a Turk? or a Mormon? or Brigham Young? that she go fur to have tribbles?—three at a pop! Dus she think I'm wurth a hundred thousand dollars? that I'm Jo'n Jacob Aster, or Mr. Roschile? that I kin afford thribbles, an clothe an feed an school three children at a time? I ain't a goin' to stand it no how, I didn't want 'em, I don't want 'em, and ain't a going to want 'em now, nur no uther time. Hain't I bin a good and dootiful husband to Sal? Hain't I kep' in doors uv a nite, an quit chawn tobacker and smokin' segars just to please her? Hain't I attended devine worship reg'lar? Hain't I bought her all the bonnets an frocks she wanted? an then for her to go an have thribbs. She noed better an hadn't orter dun it. I didn't think Sal wud serve me such a trick now. Have I ever stole a horse? Have I ever done enny mean trick, that she should serve me in this way?" An with that I laid down on the settee, an felt orful bad, an the more I tho't about it, the wus I felt.
Presently Sal's mammy, ole Miss Jones, cums in an ses,
Ses she, "Peter, cum in and see what purty chillun you've got."
"Chillun!" says I, "you'd better say a 'hole litter. Now Miss Jones, I luv Sal you no, an have tried to make a good husban', but I call this a scaly trick, an ef thar's any law in this country I'm goin' to see ef a woman kin have thribbs, an make a man take keer uv 'em. I ain't goin' to begin to do it," ses I.
With that she laffed fit to kill herself, an made all sorts of fun of me, an sed enny uther man would be proud to be in my shoes. I told her I'd sell out mi'ty cheap ef enny body wanted to take my place. Well, the upshot uv it wus that she pursuaded me that I wus 'rong, an got me to go into the room whar they all wus.
When I got in, Sal looked so lovin' at me, an reached out her little hands so much like a poor, dear little helpless child, that I forgot everything but my luv for her, and folded her gently up tu my h'art like a precious treasure, and felt like I didn't keer ef she had too and forty uv em. Jist then number wun set up a whine like a young pup, an all the ballance follered. Them thribbles noed their daddy.
Well, everything wus made up, an Sal promised she wud never do it agin; an sense then I have bin at work sertin, workin all day to make bred for them thribs, an bissy nus'n uv 'em at nite. The fact is, ef I didn't have a mi'ty good constitushun, I'd had to giv' in long ago. Number wun has the collick an wakes up number too an he wakes up number three, an so it goes, an me a flying about all the time a tryin' to keep 'em quiet.
Mother—Here, Tommy, is some nice castor oil, with orange ice in it.
Doctor—Now, remember, don't give it all to Tommy, leave some for me.
Tommy—(who has "been there")—Doctor's a nice man, ma, give it all to the Doctor!
ALL THE RECIPROCATING ON ONE SIDE.
"CAN you return my love, dearest Julia?" "Certainly, Sir, I don't want it I'm sure."
HOW HE MEANT TO DO BETTER.
A FEW days since, as a lady of rather inquisitive character was visiting our county seat, among other places she called at the Jail. She would ask the different prisoners for what crime they were in there. It went off well enough, till she came to a rather hard looking specimen of humanity, whom she asked:
"What are you in here for?"
"For stealing a horse."
"Are you not sorry for it?"
"Won't you try and do better next time?"
"Yes! I'll steal two."
A DUTCHMAN'S heart-rending soliloquy is described thus: "She lofes Shon Mickle so much better as I, pecause he's cot koople tollers more as I has!"
A STUTTERING man at a public table, had occasion to use a pepper box. After shaking it with all due vengeance, and turning it in various ways, he found that the pepper was in no wise inclined to come forth.
"T-th-this-p-pep-per box," he exclaimed, with a sagacious grin, "is so-something like myself."
"Why?" asked a neighbor.
"P-poor-poor delivery," he replied.
STORY OF A WIG.
LORD ELLENBOROUGH was once about to go on the circuit, when Lady E. said that she should like to accompany him. He replied that he had no objections, provided she did not encumber the carriage with bandboxes, which were his utter abhorrence. They set off. During the first day's journey, Lord Ellenborough, happening to stretch his legs, struck his feet against something below the seat. He discovered that it was a bandbox. His indignation is not to be described. Up went the window, and out went the bandbox. The coachman stopped; and the footman, thinking that the bandbox had tumbled out of the window by some extraordinary chance, was going to pick it up, when Lord Ellenborough furiously called out, "Drive on!" The bandbox accordingly was left by a ditch side. Having reached the county-town, where he was to officiate as judge, Lord Ellenborough proceeded to array himself for his appearance in the court-house. "Now," said he, "where's my wig,—where is my wig?" "My Lord," replied his attendant, "it was thrown out of the carriage window."
A SINGULAR FORGIVENESS.
SIR Walter Scott, in his article in the Quarterly Review, on the Culloden papers, mentions a characteristic instance of an old Highland warrior's mode of pardon. "You must forgive even your bitterest enemy, Kenmuir, now," said the confessor to him, as he lay gasping on his death-bed. "Well, if I must, I must," replied the Chieftain, "but my curse be on you, Donald," turning towards his son, "if you forgive him."
CABBAGE AND DITTO.
WE have just now heard a cabbage story which we will cook up for our laughter loving readers:
"Oh! I love you like anything," said a young countryman to his sweetheart, warmly pressing her hand.
"Ditto," said she gently returning his pressure.
The ardent lover, not happening to be over and above learned, was sorely puzzled to understand the meaning of ditto—but was ashamed to expose his ignorance by asking the girl. He went home, and the next day being at work in a cabbage patch with his father, he spoke out:
"Daddy, what's the meaning of ditto?"
"Why," said the old man, "this here is one cabbage head, ain't it?"
"Well, that ere's ditto."
"Rot that good-for-nothing gal!" ejaculated the indignant son; "she called me a cabbage head, and I'll be darned if ever I go to see her again."
FLAG AT HALF-MAST.
AN old sailor, at the theatre, said he supposed that dancing girls wore their dresses at half-mast as a mark of respect to departed modesty.
SOME one having lavishly lauded Longfellow's aphorism, "Suffer, and be strong," a matter-of-fact man observed that it was merely a variation of the old English adage, "Grin, and bear it."
A SORREL SHEEP.
SOME years ago, a bill was up before the Alabama Legislature for establishing a Botanical College at Wetumpka. Several able speakers had made long addresses in support of the bill when one Mr. Morrisett, from Monroe, took the floor. With much gravity he addressed the House as follows: "Mr. Speaker, I cannot support this bill unless assured that a distinguished friend of mine is made one of the professors. He is what the bill wishes to make for us, a regular root doctor, and will suit the place exactly. He became a doctor in two hours, and it only cost him twenty dollars to complete his education. He bought a book, Sir, and read the chapter on fevers, that was enough. He was called to see a sick woman indeed, and he felt her wrist, looked into her mouth, and then, turning to her husband, asked solemnly, if he had a 'sorrel sheep?' 'Why, no, I never heard of such a thing.' Said the doctor, nodding his head knowingly, 'Have you got a sorrel horse then?' 'Yes,' said the man, 'I drove him to the mill this morning.' 'Well,' said the doctor, 'he must be killed immediately, and some soup made of him for your wife.' The woman turned her head away, and the astonished man inquired if something else would not do for the soup, the horse was worth a hundred dollars, and was all the one he had. 'No,' said the doctor, 'the book says so, and if you don't believe it I will read it to you: Good for fevers—sheep sorrel or horse sorrel. There, Sir.' 'Why, doctor,' said the man and his wife, 'it don't mean a sorrel sheep or horse, but—' 'Well, I know what I am about,' interrupted the doctor; 'that's the way we doctors read it, and we understand it.' "Now," continued the speaker, amidst the roars of the house, "unless my sorrel doctor can be one of the professors, I must vote against this bill." The blow most effectually killed the bill, it is needless to state.
A NOTED chap once stepped in the sanctum of a venerable and highly respected editor, and indulged in a tirade against a citizen with whom he was on bad terms. "I wish," said he, addressing the man with the pen, "that you would write a severe article against R——, and put it in your paper." "Very well," was the reply. After some more conversation the visitor went away. The next morning he came rushing into the office, in a violent state of excitement. "What did you put in your paper? I have had my nose pulled and been kicked twice." "I wrote a severe article, as you desired," calmly returned the editor, "and signed your name to it."—Harrisburgh Telegraph.
A MISERLY old farmer, who had lost one of his best hands in the midst of hay-making, remarked to the sexton, as he was filling up the grave: "It's a sad thing to lose a good mower, at a time like this—but after all, poor Tom was a great eater."
"IS that clock right over there?" asked a visitor. "Right over there? Certainly; 'tain't nowhere else."
LORD SEAFORTH, who was born deaf and dumb, was to dine, one day, with Lord Melville. Just before the time of the company's arrival, Lady Melville sent into the drawing-room, a lady of her acquaintance, who could talk with her fingers to dumb people, that she might receive Lord Seaforth. Presently, Lord Guilford entered the room, and the lady, taking him for Lord Seaforth, began to ply her fingers very nimbly: Lord Guilford did the same; and they had been carrying on a conversation in this manner for about ten minutes, when Lady Melville joined them. Her female friend immediately said, "Well, I have been talking away to this dumb man." "Dumb!" cried Lord Guilford; "bless me, I thought you were dumb."—I told this story (which is perfectly true) to Matthews; and he said that he could make excellent use of it, at one of his evening entertainments; but I know not if he ever did.—Rogers' Table-talk.
"IF ever I wanted anything of my father," said Sam, "I always asked for it in a very 'spectful and obliging manner. If he didn't give it to me, I took it, for fear I should be led to do anything wrong, through not having it. I saved him a world o' trouble this way, Sir."—Dickens.
"WELL, Robert, how much did your pig weigh?" "It did not weigh as much as I expected, and I always thought it wouldn't."—Detroit Spectator.
Copied, three years ago, from a card in the Hotel du Rhin, at Boulogne.
"SPECIAL omnibus, on the arrived and on the departure, of every convoy of the railway. Restoration on the card, and dinners at all hour.
Table d'hote at ten half-past, one, and five o'clock.
Bathing place horses and walking carriage.
Interpreter attached to the hotel. Great and little apartments with saloon for family.
This etablissement entirely new, is admirably situed, on the centre of the town at proximity of the theatre and coach office, close by the post horses offer to the travellers all the comfortable desirable and is proprietor posse by is diligence and is good tenuous justifyed the confidence wich the travellers pleased to honoured him."
(The orthography and pointing of the stops, are precisely as printed in the card.)
ADMIRAL DUNCAN'S address to the officers, who came on board his ship for instructions previous to the engagement with Admiral de Winter, was both laconic and humorous, "Gentlemen, you see a severe winter approaching; I have only to advise you to keep up a good fire."
TOM DIBDIN'S TOAST.
POOR Tom Dibdin, a convivial, but always a sober man, gives a delicate allusion to the drinking propensity, in the following toast:—"May the man who has a good wife, never be addicted to liquor (lick her.)"—Bentley's Miscellany.
KICKING A YANKEE.
A VERY handsome friend of ours, who a few weeks ago was poked out of a comfortable office up the river, has taken himself to Bangor for a time to recover from the wound inflicted upon his feelings by our "unprincipled and immolating administration."
Change of air must have had an instant effect upon his spirits, for, from Galena, he writes us an amusing letter, which, among other things, tells of a desperate quarrel that took place on board of a boat, between a real live tourist and a real live Yankee settler. The latter trod on the toes of the former, whereupon the former threatened to "kick out of the cabin" the latter.
"You'll kick me out of this cabing?"
"Yes, Sir, I'll kick you out of this cabin!"
"You'll kick me, Mr. Hitchcock, out of this cabing?"
"Yes, Sir, I'll kick you, Mr. Hitchcock!"
"Well, I guess," said the Yankee, very coolly, after being perfectly satisfied that it was himself that stood in such imminent danger of assault, "I guess, since you talk of kicking, you've never heard me tell about old Bradly and my mare to hum?"
"No, Sir, nor do I wish—"
"Wall, guess it won't set you back much, any how, as kicking's generally best to be considered on. You see old Bradly is one of those sanctimonious, long-faced hypocrites who put on a religious suit every Sabbath day morning, and with a good deal of screwing, manage to keep it on till after sermon in the afternoon; and as I was a Universalist, he allers picked me out as a subject for religious conversation—and the darned hypocrite would talk about heaven, and hell, and the devil—the crucifixion and prayer without ever winking. Wall, he had an old roan mare that would jump over any fourteen rail fence in Illinois, and open any door in any barn that hadn't a padlock on it. Tu or three times I found her in my stable, and I told Bradly about it, and he was 'very sorry—an unruly animal—would watch'—and a hull lot of such things; all said in a serious manner, with a face twice as long as old deacon Farrar's on sacrament day.
"I knew, all the time, he was lying, and so I watched him and his old roan tu; and for three nights regular, old roan came to my stable about bed-time, and just at day-light Bradly would come, bridle her, and ride off. I then just took my old mare down to a blacksmith's shop and had some shoes made with corks about four inches long, and had 'em nailed on her hind feet. Your heels, mister, ain't nuthin to 'em. I took her hum—gave her about ten feet halter, tied her right in the centre of the stable, fed her well with oats at nine o'clock, and after taking a good smoke, went to bed, knowing that my old mare was a truth-telling animal, and that she'd give a good report of herself in the morning.
"I hadn't got fairly asleep before the old woman hunched me, and wanted to know what on airth was the matter out in the stable. So says I, 'Go to sleep, Peggy, it's nothing but Kate—she's kicking off flies, I guess.' Putty soon she hunched me again, and says, 'Mr. Hitchcock, du get up, and see what in the world is the matter with Kate, for she is kicking most powerfully.'
"'Lay still, Peggy, Kate will take care of herself, I guess.'
"Well the next morning, about daylight, Bradly, with bridle in hand, cum to the stable, and true as the book of Genesis, when he saw the old roan's sides, starn, and head, he cursed and swore worse than you did, mister, when I came down on your toes. After breakfast that morning, Joe Davis cum down to my house, and says he—
"'Bradly's old roan is nearly dead—she's cut all to pieces, and can scarcely move.'
"'I want to know,' says I; 'how on airth did it happen?'
"Now Joe was a member of the same church with Bradly, and whilst we were talking, up cum the everlastin hypocrite, and says he,
"'My old mare is ruined!'
"'Du tell!' says I.
"'She is all cut to pieces,' says he; 'do you know whether she was in your stable, Mr. Hitchcock, last night?'
"Wall, mister, with this I let out: 'Do I know it?'—(the Yankee here, in illustration, made way for him, unconsciously, as it were.) 'Do I know it, you no-souled, shad-bellied, squash-headed old night owl, you!—you hay-lookin, corn-cribbin, fodder-fudgin, cent-shavin, whitlin-of-nothin, you? Kate kicks like a dumb beast, but I have reduced the thing to a science!'"
The Yankee had not ceased to advance, nor the dandy, in his astonishment, to retreat; and now the motion of the latter being accelerated by the apparent demonstration on the part of the former to suit the action to the word, he found himself in the "social hall," tumbling backwards over a pile of baggage, tearing the knees of his pants as he scrambled up, and a perfect scream of laughter stunning him on all sides. The defeat was total. A few moments afterward he was seen dragging his own trunk ashore, while Mr. Hitchcock finished his story on the boiler deck.—St. Louis Reveille.
DANCING THEIR RAGS OFF.
TWO unsophisticated country lasses visited Niblo's in New York during the ballet season. When the short-skirted, gossamer clad nymphs made their appearance on the stage they became restless and fidgety.
"Oh, Annie!" exclaimed one sotto voce.
"It ain't nice—I don't like it."
"I don't care, it ain't nice, and I wonder aunt brought us to such a place."
"Hush, Mary, the folks will laugh at you."
After one or two flings and a pirouette, the blushing Mary said:
"Oh, Annie, let's go—it ain't nice, and I don't feel comfortable."
"Do hush, Mary," replied the sister, whose own face was scarlet, though it wore an air of determination: "it's the first time I ever was at a theatre, and I suppose it will be the last, so I am just going to stay it out, if they dance every rag off their backs!"
"HUSBAND, I have the asthma so bad that I can't breathe." "Well, my dear, I wouldn't try; nobody wants you to."
AN EDITOR DREAMING ON WEDDING CAKE.
A BACHELOR editor out West, who had received from the fair hand of a bride, a piece of elegant wedding-cake to dream on, thus gives the result of his experience.
"We put it under the head of our pillow, shut our eyes sweetly as an infant blessed with an easy conscience, and snored prodigiously. The God of dreams gently touched us, and lo! in fancy we were married! Never was a little editor so happy. It was 'my love,' 'dearest,' 'sweetest,' ringing in our ears every moment. Oh! that the dream had broken off here. But no! some evil genius put it into the head of our ducky to have pudding for dinner just to please her lord.
"In a hungry dream, we sat down to dinner. Well, the pudding moment arrived, and a huge slice almost obscured from sight the plate before us.
"'My dear,' said we fondly, 'did you make this?'
"'Yes, my love, ain't it nice?'
"'Glorious—the best bread pudding I ever tasted in my life.'
"'Plum pudding, ducky,' suggested my wife.
"'O, no, dearest, bread pudding. I was always fond of 'em.'
"'Call them bread pudding!' exclaimed my wife, while her lips slightly curled with contempt.
"'Certainly, my dear—reckon I've had enough at the Sherwood House, to know bread pudding, my love, by all means.'
"'Husband—this is really too bad—plum pudding is twice as hard to make as bread pudding, and is more expensive, and is a great deal better. I say this is plum pudding, sir!' and my pretty wife's brow flushed with excitement.
"'My love, my sweet, my dear love,' exclaimed we soothingly, 'do not get angry. I am sure it is very good, if it is bread pudding.'
"'You mean, low wretch,' fiercely replied my wife, in a higher tone, 'you know it's plum pudding.'
"'Then, ma'am, it's so meanly put together and so badly burned, that the devil himself wouldn't know it. I tell you, madam, most distinctly and emphatically, that it is bread pudding and the meanest kind at that.'
"'It is plum pudding,' shrieked my wife, as she hurled a glass of claret in my face, the glass itself tapping the claret from my nose.
"'Bread pudding!' gasped we, pluck to the last, and grasped a roasted chicken by the left leg.
"'Plum pudding!' rose above the din, as I had a distinct perception of feeling two plates smashed across my head.
"'Bread pudding!' we groaned in a rage, as the chicken left our hand and flying with swift wing across the table landed in madam's bosom.
"'Plum pudding!' resounded the war-cry from the enemy, as the gravy-dish took us where we had been depositing a part of our dinner, and a plate of beets landed upon our white vest.
"'Bread pudding forever!' shouted we in defiance, dodging the soup tureen, and falling beneath its contents.
"'Plum pudding!' yelled the amiable spouse; noticing our misfortune, she determined to keep us down by piling upon our head the dishes with no gentle hand. Then in rapid succession, followed the war-cries. 'Plum pudding!' she shrieked with every dish.
"'Bread pudding,' in smothered tones, came up from the pile in reply. Then it was 'plum pudding,' in rapid succession, the last cry growing feebler, till just as I can distinctly recollect, it had grown to a whisper. 'Plum pudding' resounded like thunder, followed by a tremendous crash as my wife leaped upon the pile with her delicate feet, and commenced jumping up and down, when, thank heaven! we awoke, and thus saved our life. We shall never dream on wedding cake again—that's the moral."
A GENTLEMAN was threatening to beat a dog who barked intolerably. "Why," exclaimed an Irishman, "would you beat the poor dumb animal for spakin' out?"
A GENTLEMAN was speaking the other day of the kindness of his friends in visiting him. One old aunt in particular visited him twice a year, and stayed six months each time.
"I'D have you to know, Mrs. Stoker, that my uncle was a banister of the law."
"A fig for your banister," retorted Mrs. Grumly, turning up her nose, "haven't I a cousin as is a corridor in the navy?"
A CAT STORY.
A PHILOSOPHICAL old gentleman was one day passing a new school-house, erected somewhere towards the setting sun borders of our glorious Union, when his attention was suddenly attracted to a crowd of persons gathered around the door. He inquired of a boy, whom he met, what was going on.
"Well, nothin', 'cept the skule committy, and they're goin' in."
"A committee meets to-day! What for?"
"Well," continued the boy, "you see Bill, that's our biggest boy, got mad at the teacher, and so he went all round and gathered dead cats. Nothin' but cats, and cats, and cats. Oh! it was orful, them cats!"
"Pshaw! what have the cats to do with the school committee?"
"Now, well, you see Bill kept a bringing cats and cats; allers a pilin' them up yonder," pointing to a huge pile as large in extent as a pyramid, and considerably aromatic, "and he piled them. Nothing but cats, cats!"
"Never mind, my son, what Bill did; what has the committee met for?"
"Then Bill got sick haulin' them, and everybody got sick a nosin' them, but Bill got madder, and didn't give it up, but kept a pilin' up the cats and—"
"Can you tell what the committee are holding a meeting for?"
"Why, the skule committy are goin' to hold a meetin' up here to say whether they'll move the skule house or the cats."
The old gentleman evaporated immediately.
IF a husband were to see his wife drowning, what single letter of the alphabet would he name?—Answer. Let-her B.
WHAT is most like a hen stealing?—Ans. A cock robbing (robin).
WHAT wind would a hungry sailor wish for, at sea?—Ans.—A wind that blows fowl and then chops.
WHEN is a lane dangerous to walk in?—Ans. When the hedges are shooting, and the bull-rushes out.
IN what color should a secret be kept?—Ans. In violet (inviolate).
WHAT proof is there that Robinson Crusoe found his island inhabited?—Ans. Because he saw a great swell pitching into a little cove.
WHAT was Joan of Arc made of?—Ans. Maid of Orleans.
WHY is the county of Bucks, like a drover's stick?—Ans. Because it runs into Oxon (oxen) and Herts (hurts).
WHO is the greatest dandy you meet at sea?—Ans. The great swell of the ocean.
WHY may it be presumed that Moses wore a wig?—Ans. Because he was sometimes seen with Aaron (hair on), and sometimes without.
A LITTLE sighing, a little crying, a little dying, and a deal of lying.—Jonathan.
THE THIEF AND THE DUKE.
THE great Duke of Marlborough, passing the gate of the Tower, after having inspected that fortress, was accosted by an ill-looking fellow, with, "How do you do, my Lord Duke? I believe your Grace and I have now been in every jail in the kingdom?" "I believe, my friend," replied the Duke, with surprise, "this is the only jail I ever visited." "Very like," replied the other, "but I have been in all the rest."
LOSS OF TIME.
A DEVOTEE lamented to her confessor, her love of gaming. "Ah, madam," replied the priest, "it is a grievous sin:—in the first place, consider the loss of time." "Yes," replied the fair penitent, "I have often begrudged the time lost in shuffling and dealing."
A PREACHER, in Arabia, having for his text, a portion of the Koran, "I have called Noah," after twice repeating his text, made a long pause; when an Arab present, thinking that he was waiting for an answer, exclaimed, "If Noah will not come, call somebody else."
"I WILL save you a thousand pounds," said a young buck to an old gentleman. "How?" "You have a daughter, and you intend to give her ten thousand pounds as her portion." "I do." "Sir, I will take her with nine thousand."
FRIEND GRACE, it seems, had a very good horse and a very poor one. When seen riding the latter, he was asked the reason (it turned out that his better half had taken the good one). "What!" said the bantering bachelor, "how comes it you let your mistress ride the better horse?" The only reply was—"Friend, when thee beest married theel't know."
TAKING A RECEIPT.
THE Hartford Times vouches for the truth of the following story:
"Pat Malone, you are fined five dollars for assault and battery on Mike Sweeney."
"I have the money in me pocket, and I'll pay the fine, if your honor will give me the resate."
"We give no receipts here. We just take the money. You will not be called upon a second time for your fine."
"But your honor, I'll not be wanting to pay the same till after I get the resate."
"What do you want to do with it?"
"If your honor will write one and give it to me, I'll tell you."
"Well, there's your receipt. Now what do you want to do with it?"
"I'll tell your honor. You see, one of those days I'll be after dying, and when I go to the gate of heaven I'll rap, and St. Peter will say, 'Who's there?' and I'll say, 'It's me, Pat Malone,' and he'll say, 'What do you want?' and I'll say, 'I want to come in,' and he'll say, 'Did you behave like a dacent boy in the other world, and pay all the fines and such things?' and I'll say, 'Yes, your holiness,' and then he'll want to see the resate, and I'll put my hand in my pocket and take out my resate and give it to him, and I'll not have to go ploddin' all over hell to find your honor to get one."
AN old gentleman says, he is the last man in the world to tyrannize over a daughter's affections. So long as she marries the man of his choice, he don't care who she loves.
DESTROYING THE ROMANCE.
A CAPITAL story is told of a young fellow who one Sunday strolled into a village church, and during the service was electrified and gratified by the sparkling of a pair of eyes which were riveted upon his face. After the service he saw the possessor of the shining orbs leave the church alone, and emboldened by her glances, he ventured to follow her, his heart aching with rapture. He saw her look behind, and fancied she evinced some emotion at recognizing him. He then quickened his pace, and she actually slackened hers, as if to let him come up with her—but we will permit the young gentleman to tell the rest in his own way:
"Noble young creature!" thought I, "her artless and warm heart is superior to the bonds of custom.
"I had reached within a stone's throw of her. She suddenly halted, and turned her face toward me. My heart swelled to bursting. I reached the spot where she stood, she began to speak, and I took off my hat as if doing reverence to an angel.
"'Are you a peddler?'
"'No, my dear girl, that is not my occupation.'
"'Well, I don't know,' continued she, not very bashfully, and eyeing me very sternly, 'I thought when I saw you in the meetin' house that you looked like a peddler who passed off a pewter half dollar on me three weeks ago, an' so I just determined to keep an eye on you. Brother John has got home now, and says if he catches the fellow he'll wring his neck for him; and I ain't sure but you're the good-for-nothing rascal after all!'"
DOING A YANKEE.
SIR ALLEN MCNAB was once traveling by steamer, and as luck would have it, was obliged to occupy a state-room with a full blooded Yankee. In the morning, while Sir Allen was dressing, he beheld his companion making thorough researches into his (Sir Allen's) dressing case. Having completed his examination, he proceeded coolly to select the tooth-brush, and therewith to bestow on his long yellow teeth an energetic scrubbing. Sir Allen said not a word. When Jonathan had concluded, the old Scotchman gravely set the basin on the floor, soaped one foot well, and taking the tooth-brush, applied it vigorously to his toes and toe-nails.
"You dirty fellow," exclaimed the astonished Yankee, "what the mischief are you doing that for?"
"Oh," said Sir Allen coolly, "that's the brush I always do it with."
DROVERS vs. FOPS.
DINNER was spread in the cabin of that peerless steamer, the New World, and a splendid company were assembled about the table. Among the passengers thus prepared for gastronomic duty, was a little creature of the genus Fop, decked daintily as an early butterfly, with kids of irreproachable whiteness, "miraculous" neck-tie, and spider-like quizzing glass on his nose. The little delicate animal turned his head aside with,
"Bwing me a pwopellah of a fwemale woostah!"
"And, waitah, tell the steward to wub my plate with a vegetable, wulgarly called onion, which will give a delicious flavow to my dinnah."
While the refined exquisite was giving his order, a jolly western drover had listened with opened mouth and protruding eyes. When the diminutive creature paused, he brought his fist down upon the table with a force that made every dish bounce, and then thundered out:
"Here you darned ace-of-spades!"
"Bring me a thunderin' big plate of skunk's gizzards!"
"And, old ink pot, tuck a horse blanket under my chin, and rub me down with brickbats while I feed!"
The poor dandy showed a pair of straight coat-tails instanter, and the whole table joined in a "tremenjous" roar.
STORY OF AN ALMANAC MAKER.
DAVID DITSON was and is the great Almanac man, calculating the signs and wonders in the heavens, and furnishing the astronomical matter with which those very useful annuals abound. In former years it was his custom, in all his almanacs, to utter sage predictions as to the weather, at given periods in the course of the revolving year. Thus he would say, 'About—this—time—look—out—for—a—change—of—weather; and by stretching such a prophecy half-way down the page, he would make very sure that in some one of the days included, the event foretold would come to pass. He got cured of this spirit of prophecy, in a very remarkable manner. One summer day, clear and calm as a day could be, he was riding on horseback; it was before railroads were in vogue, and being on a journey some distance from home, and wishing to know how far it was to the town he was going to visit, he stopped at the roadside and inquired of a farmer at work in the field. The farmer told him it was six miles; "but," he added, "you must ride sharp, or you will get a wet jacket before you reach it."
"A wet jacket!" said the astronomer; "you don't think it is going to rain, do you?"
"No, I don't think so, I know so," replied the farmer; "and the longer you sit there, the more likely you are to get wet."
David thought the farmer a fool, and rode on, admiring the blue sky uncheckered by a single cloud. He had not proceeded more than half the distance to the town before the heavens were overcast, and one of those sudden showers not unusual in this latitude came down upon him. There was no place for shelter, and he was drenched to the skin. But the rain was soon over, and David thought within himself, that old man must have some way of guessing the weather that beats all my figures and facts. I will ride back and get it out of him. It will be worth more than a day's work to learn a new sign. By the time he had reached the farmer's field again, the old man had resumed his labor, and David accosted him very respectfully:
"I say, my good friend, I have come all the way back to ask you how you were able to say that it would certainly rain to-day?"
"Ah," said the sly old fellow, "and wouldn't you like to know!"
"I would certainly; and as I am much interested in the subject, I will willingly give you five dollars for your rule."
The farmer acceded to the terms, took the money, and proceeded to say:
"Well, you see now, we all use David Ditson's almanacs around here, and he is the greatest liar that ever lived; for whenever he says 'it's going to rain,' we know it ain't; and when he says 'fair weather,' we look out for squalls. Now this morning I saw it put down for to-day Very pleasant, and I knew for sartin it would rain before night. That's the rule. Use David's Almanac, and always read it just t'other way."
The crest-fallen astronomer plodded on his weary way, another example of a fool and his money soon parted. But that was the end of his prophesying. Since that he has made his almanacs without weatherwise sayings, leaving every man to guess for himself.
HOW TO BOARD AND LODGE IN NEW YORK.
THE Philadelphia Chronicle calls the hero of the following story a Yankee, but he will wager a sixpence that he was born in Pennsylvania. But no matter, it is a good joke:—"'What do you charge for board?' asked a tall Green Mountain boy, as he walked up to the bar of a second-rate hotel in New York—'what do you ask a week for board and lodging?' 'Five dollars.' 'Five dollars! that's too much; but I s'pose you'll allow for the times I am absent from dinner and supper?' 'Certainly; thirty-seven and a half cents each.' Here the conversation ended, and the Yankee took up his quarters for two weeks. During this time, he lodged and breakfasted at the hotel, but did not take either dinner or supper, saying his business detained him in another portion of the town. At the expiration of the two weeks, he again walked up to the bar, and said, 'S'pose we settle that account—I'm going, in a few minutes.' The landlord handed him his bill—'Two weeks board at five dollars—ten dollars.' 'Here, stranger,' said the Yankee, 'this is wrong—you've made a mistake; you've not deducted the times I was absent from dinner and supper—14 days, two meals per day; 28 meals, at 37-1/2 cents each; 10 dollars 50 cents. If you've not got the fifty cents that's due to me, I'll take a drink, and the balance in cigars!"
NEVER SAY DIE.
"THE politicians have thrown me overboard," said a disappointed politician; "but I have strength enough to swim to the other side."
HOW TO BECOME A CONNOISSEUR.
SPOSIN' it's pictures that's on the carpet, wait till you hear the name of the painter. If it's Rubens, or any o' them old boys, praise, for it's agin the law to doubt them; but if it's a new man, and the company ain't most especial judges, criticise. "A leetle out o' keeping," says you. "He don't use his grays enough, nor glaze down well. That shadder wants depth. General effect is good, though parts ain't. Those eyebrows are heavy enough for stucco," says you, and other unmeaning terms like these. It will pass, I tell you. Your opinion will be thought great. Them that judged the cartoons at Westminster Hall, knew plaguey little more nor that. But if this is a portrait of the lady of the house, hangin' up, or it's at all like enough to make it out, stop—gaze on it, walk back, close your fingers like a spy-glass, and look through 'em amazed like—enchanted—chained to the spot. Then utter, unconscious like, "That's a most beautiful pictur'. By heavens! that's a speakin' portrait. It's well painted, too. But whoever the artist is, he is an unprincipled man." "Good gracious!" she'll say, "how so?" "'Cause, madam, he has not done you justice."—Sam Slick.
"I BOUGHT them boots to wear only when I go into genteel society," said one of the codfish tribe, to a wag, the other day.
"Oh, you did, eh?" quoth the wag. "Well, then, in that case, them boots will be likely to last you a lifetime, and be worth something to your heirs."—Exit codfish, rather huffy.
WHEN the territory now composing the State of Ohio was first organized into a government, and Congressmen about being elected, there were two candidates, both men of standing and ability, brought out in that fertile region watered by the beautiful Muskingum.
Mr. Morgan, the one, was a reluctant aspirant for the honor, but he payed his respects to the people by calling meetings at various points and addressing them. In one part of the district there was a large and very intelligent German settlement, and it was generally conceded that their vote, usually given one way, would be decisive of the contest. To secure this important interest, Mr. Morgan, in the course of the campaign, paid this part of the district a visit, and by his condescension and polite manner, made a most favourable impression on the entire population—the electors, in fact, all pledging themselves to cast their votes for him.
Colonel Jackson, the opposing candidate, and ambitious for the office, hearing of this successful move on the part of his opponent, determined to counteract it if possible. To this end he started for the all-important settlement. On introducing himself, and after several fruitless attempts to dissipate the favourable effects of Mr. Morgan's visit, he was finally informed by one of the leading men of the precinct that:
"It ish no good you coming hare, Colonel Shackson, we have all promisht to vote for our friendt, Meisther Morgans."
"Ah! ha!" says the Colonel: "but did you hear what Mr. Morgan did when he returned from visiting you?"
"No, vat vas it?"
"Why, he ordered his chamber-maid to bring him some soap and warm water, that he might wash the sour krout off his hands."
The Colonel left, and in a few days the election coming off, each candidate made his appearance at the critical German polls.
The votes were then given viva voce, and you may readily judge of Mr. Morgan's astonishment as each lusty Dutchman announced the name of Colonel Shackson, holding up his hand toward the outwitted candidate, and indignantly asking:
"Ah! ha! Meisther Morgans, you zee ony zour krout dare?"
It is needless to say that Colonel Shackson took a seat in the next Congress.
"SUSAN, stand up and let me see what you have learned. What does c-h-a-i-r spell?"
"I don't know, marm."
"Why, you ignorant critter! What do you always sit on?"
"Oh, marm, I don't like to tell."
"What on earth is the matter with the gal?—tell what is it."
"I don't like to tell—it was Bill Crass's knee, but he never kissed me but twice."
"Airthquake and apple-sarse!" exclaimed the schoolmistress, and she fainted.
A HAY FIELD ANECDOTE.
AN old gentleman who was always bragging how folks used to work in his young days, one time challenged his two sons to pitch on a load of hay as fast as he could load it.
The challenge was accepted and the hay-wagon driven round and the trial commenced. For some time the old man held his own very creditably, calling out, tauntingly, "More hay! more hay!"
Thicker and faster it came. The old man was nearly covered; still he kept crying, "More hay! more hay!" until struggling to keep on the top of the disordered and ill-arranged heap, it began first to roll, then to slide, and at last off it went from the wagon, and the old man with it.
"What are you down here for?" cried the boys.
"I came down after hay," answered the old man, stoutly.
Which was a literal fact. He had come down after the wagon load, which had to be pitched on again rather more deliberately.
WHY BROTHER DICKSON LEFT THE CHURCH.
MR. DICKSON, a colored barber, was shaving one of his customers, a respectable citizen, one morning, when a conversation occurred between them respecting Mr. Dickson's former connection with a colored church in the place.
"I believe you are connected with the church in ——street, Mr. Dickson," said the customer.
"So, Sah, not at all."
"What! are you not a member of the African Church?"
"Not dis year, Sah."
"Why did you leave their communion, Mr. Dickson? if I may be permitted to ask."
"Why, I tell you, Sah," said Mr. Dickson, strapping a concave razor on the palm of his hand.
"It was just like dis. I jined dat church in good faif. I gib ten dollars toward de stated preaching ob de Gospel de fus' year, and de peepil all call me Brudder Dickson. De second year my business not good, and I only gib five dollars. Dat year the church peepil call me Mr. Dickson.
"Dis razor hurt you, Sah?"
"No; the razor goes very well."
"Well, Sah, de third year I felt very poor, sickness in my family, and didn't gib nuffin for the preaching. Well, Sah, after dat they call me Old Nigger Dickson, and I leff 'em."
So saying, Mr. Dickson brushed his customer's hair and the gentleman departed, well satisfied with the reason why Mr. Dickson left the church.
A YOUNG lady in the interior, thinks of going to California to get married, for the reason that she has been told that in that country the men folks "rock the cradle."
WHAT is the difference between an attempted homicide, and a hog butchery? One is an assault with intent to kill, and the other is a kill with intent to salt.
HERE, reader, is a little picture of one kind of "human nature," that, while it will make you laugh, conveys at the same time a lesson not unworthy of heed. The story is of a gentleman traveling through Canada in the winter of 1839, who, after a long day's ride, stopped at a roadside inn called the "Lion Tavern," where the contents of the stage coach, numbering some nine persons, soon gathered round the cheerful fire.
Among the occupants of the room was an ill-looking cur, who had shown its wit by taking up its quarters in so comfortable an apartment. After a few minutes the landlord entered, and observing the dog, remarked:
"Fine dog, that! is he yours, Sir?" appealing to one of the passengers.
"Beautiful dog! yours, Sir?" addressing himself to a second.
"No!" was the blunt reply.
"Come here, Pup! Perhaps he is yours, Sir?"
"No!" was again the reply.
"Very sagacious animal! Belongs to YOU, I suppose, Sir?"
"No, he doesn't!"
"Then he is yours, and you have a treasure in him, Sir?" at the same time throwing the animal a cracker.
"No, Sir, he is not!"
"Oh!" (with a smile) "he belongs to you, as a matter of course, then?" addressing the last passenger.
"Me! I wouldn't have him as a gift!"
"Then, you dirty, mean, contemptible whelp, get out!" And with that the host gave him such a kick as sent him howling into the street, amidst the roars of the company.
There was one honest dog in that company, but the two-legged specimen was a little "too sweet to be wholesome."
MOORE mentions in his diary a very amusing anecdote of John Kemble. He was performing one night at some country theatre, in one of his favourite parts, and being interrupted from time to time by the squalling of a child in one of the galleries, he became not a little angry at the rival performance. Walking with solemn step to the front of the stage, and addressing the audience in his most tragic tone, he said:
"Unless the play is stopped, the child can not possibly go on!"
The loud laugh which followed this ridiculous transposition of his meaning, relaxed even the nerves of the immortal Hamlet, and he was compelled to laugh with his auditors.
A PRIEST of Basse Bretagne, finding his duty somewhat arduous, particularly the number of his confessing penitents, said from the pulpit one Sunday:
"Brethren, to avoid confusion at the confessional this week, I will on Monday confess the liars, on Tuesday the thieves, Wednesday the gamblers, Thursday the drunkards, Friday the women of bad life, and Saturday the libertines."
Strange to relate, nobody came that week to confess their sins.
A SLEEPY DEACON.
THERE are times and seasons when sleep is never appropriate, and with these may be classed the sleep of the good old Cincinnati deacon.
The deacon was the owner and overseer of a large pork-packing establishment. His duty it was to stand at the head of the scalding trough, watch in hand, to "time" the length of the scald, crying "Hog in!" when the just slaughtered hog was to be thrown into the trough, and "Hog out!" when the watch told three minutes. One week the press of business compelled the packers to unusually hard labor, and Saturday night found the deacon completely exhausted. Indeed, he was almost sick the next morning, when church time came; but he was a leading member, and it was his duty to attend the usual Sabbath service, if he could. He went. The occasion was of unusual solemnity, as a revival was in progress. The minister preached a sermon, well calculated for effect. His peroration was a climax of great beauty. Assuming the attitude of one intently listening, he recited to the breathless auditory:
"Hark, they whisper; angels say—
"Hog in!" came from the deacon's pew, in a stentorian voice. The astonished audience turned their attention from the preacher. He went on, however, unmoved—
"Sister spirit, come away."
"Hog out!" shouted the deacon, "tally four."
This was too much for the preacher and the audience. The latter smiled, some snickered audibly, while a few boys broke for the door, to "split their sides," laughing outside, within full hearing. The preacher was entirely disconcerted, sat down, arose again, pronounced a brief benediction, and dismissed the anything else than solemn minded hearers. The deacon soon came to a realizing sense of his unconscious interlude, for his brethren reprimanded him severely; while the boys caught the infection of the joke, and every possible occasion afforded an opportunity for them to say, "Hog in!" "Hog out!"
LOST IN A FOG.
"SUPPOSE you are lost in a fog," said Lord C—— to his noble relative, the Marchioness, "what are you most likely to be?" "Mist, of course," replied her ladyship.
"YOU don't seem to know how to take me," said a vulgar fellow to a gentleman he had insulted. "Yes, I do," said the gentleman, taking him by the nose.
RESPECT FOR APPEARANCES.
ON a Sunday, a lady called to her little boy, who was tossing marbles on the side walk, to come in the house.
"Don't you know you should not be out there, my son?" said she. "Go into the back yard, if you want to play marbles; it is Sunday."
"I will," answered the little boy; "but ain't it Sunday in the back yard, mother?"
MAKING THE RESPONSES.
AN ignorant fellow, who was about to get married, resolved to make himself perfect in the responses of the marriage service; but, by mistake, he committed the office of baptism for those of riper years; so when the clergyman asked him in the church, "Wilt thou have this woman to be thy wedded wife?" the bridegroom answered, in a very solemn tone, "I renounce them all." The astonished minister said, "I think you are a fool!" to which he replied, "All this I steadfastly believe."
AN ill-looking fellow was asked how he could account for nature's forming him so ugly. "Nature was not to blame," said he; "for when I was two months old, I was considered the handsomest child in the neighborhood, but my nurse one day swapped me away for another boy just to please a friend, whose child was rather plain looking."
IKE PARTINGTON AND PUGILISM.
MRS. PARTINGTON was much surprised to find Ike, one rainy afternoon, in the spare room, with the rag-bag hung to the bed-post, which he was belaboring very lustily with his fists as huge as two one cent apples.
"What gymnastiness are you doing here?" said she, as she opened the door.
He did not stop, and merely replying, "Training," continued to pitch in. She stood looking at him as he danced around the bag, busily punching its rotund sides.
"That's the Morrissey touch," said he, giving one side a dig; "and that," hitting the other side, "is the Benicia Boy."
"Stop!" she said, and he immediately stopped after he had given the last blow for Morrissey. "I am afraid the training you are having isn't good," said she, "and I think you had better train in some other company. I thought your going into compound fractures in school would be dilatorious to you. I don't know who Mr. Morrissey is, and I don't want to, but I hear that he has been whipping the Pernicious Boy, a poor lad with a sore leg, and I think he should be ashamed of himself." Ike had read the "Herald," with all about "the great prize fight" in it, and had become entirely carried away with it.
GEORGE SELWYN was telling at dinner-table, in the midst of a large company, and with great glee, of the execution of Lord Lovat, which he had witnessed. The ladies were shocked at the levity he manifested, and one of them reproached him, saying,
"How could you be such a barbarian as to see the head of a man cut off?"
"Oh," said he, "if that was any great crime, I am sure I made amends for it; for I went to see it sewed on again."
A FOP in company, wanting his servant, called out:
"Where's that blockhead of mine?" A lady present, answered, "On your shoulders, Sir."
DIVISION OF TIME.
"MURPHY," said an employer, the other morning, to one of his workmen, "you came late this morning, the other men were an hour before you." "Sure, and I'll be even wit 'em to-night, then." "How, Murphy?" "Why, faith, I'll quit an hour before 'em all, sure."
A GROOM is a chap, that a gentleman keeps to clean his 'osses, and be blown up, when things go wrong. They are generally wery conceited consequential beggars, and as they never knows nothing, why the best way is to take them so young, that they can't pretend to any knowledge. I always get mine from the charity schools, and you'll find it wery good economy, to apply to those that give the boys leather breeches, as it will save you the trouble of finding him a pair. The first thing to do, is to teach him to get up early, and to hiss at everything he brushes, rubs, or touches. As the leather breeches should be kept for Sundays, you must get him a pair of corderoys, and mind, order them of large size, and baggy behind, for many 'osses have a trick of biting at chaps when they are cleaning them; and it is better for them to have a mouthful of corderoy, than the lad's bacon, to say nothing of the loss of the boy's services, during the time he is laid up.—John Jorrock's Sporting Lectures.
IN A QUIVER.
A COQUETTE is said to be an imperfect incarnation of Cupid, as she keeps her beau, and not her arrows, in a quiver.
YANKEES are supposed to have attained the greatest art in parrying inquisitiveness, but there is a story extant of a "Londoner" on his travels in the provinces, who rather eclipses the cunning "Yankee Peddler." In traveling post, says the narrator, he was obliged to stop at a village to replace a shoe which his horse had lost; when the "Paul Pry" of the place bustled up to the carriage-window, and without waiting for the ceremony of an introduction, said:
"Good-morning, Sir. Horse cast a shoe I see. I suppose, Sir, you are going to—?"
Here he paused, expecting the name of the place to be supplied; but the gentleman answered:
"You are quite right; I generally go there at this season."
"Ay—ahem!—do you? And no doubt you are now come from—?"
"Right again, Sir; I live there."
"Oh, ay; I see: you do! But I perceive it is a London shay. Is there anything stirring in London?"
"Oh, yes; plenty of other chaises and carriages of all sorts."