The American Joe Miller: A Collection of Yankee Wit and Humor

The

American Joe Miller.

The

American Joe Miller:

A Collection of Yankee Wit and Humour.

Compiled By

Robert Kempt.

"I love a teeming wit as I love my nourishment."--_Ben Jonson._

"Oh, you shall see him laugh till his face be like a wet cloak ill laid up!"

_Shakespeare._

[Illustration]

London:

Adams And Francis, 59, Fleet Street.

[Entered At Stationers' Hall.]

1865.

London: Clayton And Co., Printers, 17, Bouverie Street.

Preface.

So far as the Compiler is aware, no good collection of American wit and humour exists on this side of the Atlantic; certainly, no collection worthy to be considered as the American Joe Miller. In the well-known "Percy Anecdotes," in the numerous English Joe Millers, and other jest-books, a few of Brother Jonathan's good things are to be found, in company with the rich and genial wit of John Bull, the pawky humour of the Scotch, and the exuberant mirth of Paddy; but it is believed that the present is the first attempt to present anything like a complete collection of American witticisms to English readers. While every justice has been done in this matter to Scotland by Dean Ramsay's inimitable "Reminiscences of Scottish Life and Character;" and while a kindred service has been performed for England by Mr. John Timbs, and still more recently by Mr. Mark Lemon, not to mention others, no one, seemingly, has bethought him of gathering together the happy scintillations of Brother Jonathan's intellect. The Compiler trusts that he may have undertaken this task with at least some success.

No one at all familiar with the periodical literature of America will deny that the Americans are a witty people. Whether their native wit be so intellectual and refined as the English, so quaint and subtle as the Scotch humour, or so strong and hearty as the Irish, or, again, whether it be so keen and compact as the French _esprit_, may be reasonably questioned; but that it is a straw that _can_ tickle, and therefore, according to Dryden, an instrument of happiness, all must admit. In considering the nature of American humour, it is obvious that broad exaggeration is its great characteristic. It is essentially _outré_. No people seek to raise the laugh by such extravagant means as the Yankees. Their ordinary speech is hyperbole, or tall talk. They never go out shooting unless with the long bow. Again, their humour comes from without, rather than from within, and is less a matter of thought than of verbal expression. It deals with the association of ideas rather than with ideas themselves. Transatlantic wit is not as a rule terse, epigrammatic, pungent, like the wit of Lamb, Hood, or Jerrold, which often lies in a single sentence or even word. The humour of Sam Slick or James Russell Lowell, for instance, lies as much in accessories as in the thing itself. It is nothing unless surrounded by circumstantial narrative. But in this it must be confessed the Americans are great masters. The humour of a people always reflects the character of that people, and character, as we all know, is influenced in no small measure by country and climate. Our American brethren are born, or as they themselves say "raised," in a country whose physical features have been planned on a scale far surpassing in magnitude--not unfrequently in beauty also--those of every other country in the world. The Americans feel this, and are justly proud of the extent and magnificence of America. It leads them to compare it with other countries, and the comparison is certain to result in favour of their own. Theirs is the country of Lake Superior. Columbia is a Triton among the minnows. Into this Brobdignag of our cousins Munchausen emigrated early, and the genius of the celebrated German Baron still continues to control its people. Only in America will you find a man so tall that he is obliged to go up a ladder in order to shave himself, or so small that it requires two men and a boy to see him; only in America do the railway trains travel so fast that the train often reaches the station considerably in advance of the whistle; only in America are the fogs so thick that they may be cut with a "ham knife." It is only an American artist who can paint a snow-storm so naturally that he catches cold by sitting near it with his coat off; it is only in America that sportsmen are such dead shots that the birds when they see the gun "come down," rather than abide the consequences of remaining "up;" and it is only in America that every man is "one of the most remarkable men in the country." It must be said of American humour, that you can always, and at once, "see the joke." Its meaning is never hidden, and it seldom, if ever, takes the form of the _double entendre_. To borrow an idea from Elia, there is no need to grope all over your neighbour's face to be sure that he appreciates a genuine Yankee joke. The grins it causes are the very broadest, and the laughter it evokes is the very loudest.

While the Compiler hopes that all his readers may find something to laugh at in the wise saws of Sam Slick, the broad grins of Artemus Ward and Joshua Billings, the marvellous (impossible?) feats of the renowned Major Longbow, and the cute remarks of those notorious personages, the Down Easter and the Western Editor, which he has here collected, he also trusts that none of them may find anything to regret. Care has been exercised to exclude everything of an objectionable character from the collection.

Since his elevation to the presidential chair, Mr. Lincoln has acquired the reputation of being a good story-teller, and a number of the best things attributed to "honest old Abe" have been included in the collection, which will also be found to contain many of the humorous stories and incidents to which the present unhappy war has given rise. "Honest good humour," says Washington Irving, one of America's greatest sons, "is the oil and wine of a merry meeting." It is the earnest wish of the Compiler that the following pages may serve to convince every reader of the truth of the remark.

R. K.

_January 2, 1865._

The

American Joe Miller.

Early Rising In Connecticut.--1.

The editor of the _Eglantine_ says that the girls in Connecticut, who are remarkable for their industry, drink about a pint of yeast before going to bed at night, to make them _rise_ early in the morning.

Small Loaves.--2.

A half-famished fellow in the Southern States tells of a baker (whose loaves had been growing "small by degrees, and beautifully less,") who, when going his rounds to serve his customers, stopped at the door of one and knocked, when the lady within exclaimed, "Who's there?" and was answered, "The baker." "What do you want?" "To leave your bread." "Well, you needn't make such a fuss about it; put it through the keyhole."

Only The Eleventh.--3.

At a christening, while a minister was making the certificate, he forgot the date, and happened to say: "Let me see, this is the 30th." "The thirtieth!" exclaimed the indignant mother; "indeed, but it's only the eleventh!"

Sharp Shooting.--4.

The following dialogue on "sharp shooting" is reported to have taken place between a Virginee and a Yankee picket:--"I say, can you fellows shoot?" "Wall, I reckon we can some. Down in Mississippi we can knock a bumble-bee off a thistle bow at three hundred yards." "Oh, that ain't nothing to the way we seewt up in Varmount. I belonged to a military company ther', with a hundred men in the company, and we went out for practice every week. The capt'n draws us up in single file, and sets a cider-barrel rolling down the hill, and each man takes his shot at the bung-hole as it turns up. It is afterwards examined, and if there is a shot that didn't go in the bung-hole the number who missed it is expelled. I belonged to the company ten years, and there ain't been nobody expelled yet."

Four Points Of A Case.--5.

An Eastern editor says that a man in New York got himself into trouble by marrying two wives. A Western editor replies by assuring his contemporary that a good many men in that section had done the same thing by marrying one. A Northern editor retorts that quite a number of his acquaintances found trouble enough by barely promising to marry, without going any further. A Southern editor says that a friend of his was bothered enough when simply found in company with another man's wife.

Advantage Of Burning Two Candles.--6.

A celebrated American judge had a very stingy wife. On one occasion she received his friends in the drawing-room with a single candle. "Be pleased, my dear," said his lordship, "to let us have a second candle that we may see where the other stands."

A 4-Tunate Young Man.--7.

There is a young man in the U. S. army, who was born July 4, at 4 o'clock, p.m., at No. 44, in a street in Boston, is the 4th child, has 4 names, enlisted in the Newton company, which joined the 4th battalion, 44th regiment, and on the 4th of August was appointed 4th corporal, and is now gone to defend his country.

Elbow-Room Scarce.--8.

Elbow-room has been quite scarce in Nashville during the past week. Such scrouging, gouging, turning in and turning out, has seldom before been witnessed. Instance the following:--Traveller dismounts at a tavern. "Hallo, landlord, can I get lodgings here to-night?" Landlord: "No, sir; every room in the house is engaged." Traveller: "Can't you give me a blanket and a bunch of shavings for a pillow in your bar-room?" Landlord: "No, sir; there's not a square foot of space unoccupied anywhere in the house." Traveller: "Then I'll thank you, sir, to shove a pole out of your second-floor window, and I'll roost on that."

A Couple Of Reasons Too Many.--9.

The _Providence Journal_ is accountable for the following: A drafted man in this State called upon one of our lawyers, and desired to have papers prepared claiming exemption from the military service for the several reasons which he named. 1. That he was the only son of a widow depending upon him for support. 2. That his father was in such infirm health as to be unable to get his own living; and 3, that he had two brothers already in the service. All of which facts Patrick desired then and there to verify by affidavit. The lawyer, who had travelled in Illinois and learned the knack of introducing _apropos_ anecdotes, reminded the drafted man of a little story of the maple-sugar man in Vermont who was sued for returning a borrowed sap-kettle in a damaged condition, and pleaded in defence--first, that the kettle was sound when he returned it; secondly, that it was cracked when he borrowed it; and thirdly, that he never had the sap-kettle. Patrick grinned a ghastly smile, such as sometimes illumines the countenance of a man before the Board of Enrolment when the doctor blandly assures him that he has not got the liver complaint or the kidney disease, and withdrew his papers.

Egg "Brof."--10.

"Well, Sambo, how do you like your new place?" "Oh, very well, massa." "What did you have for breakfast this morning?" "Why, you see, missus biled three eggs for herself, and gib me de brof."

To Make Sausages.--11.

The editor of the _Southbridge Journal_ was set all aback the other day, when he asked a farmer's wife how she made sausages, and received for answer--"Take your in'ards, scrape 'em, scald, and stuff 'em."

"Preach Small."--12.

"Mother," said a little girl, seven years old, "I could not understand our minister to-day, he said so many hard words; I wish he would preach so that little girls could understand him. Won't he, mother?" "Yes, I think so, if we ask him." Soon after her father saw her going to the minister's. "Where are you going, Emma?" said he. "I am going over to Mr. ----'s, to ask him to _preach small_."

Hard Lying.--13.

There lives in New Hampshire a man called Joe, a fellow noted for the tough lies he can tell. A correspondent informs us that Joe called in at Holton's lately, and found him almost choked with smoke, when he suggested, "You don't know as much about managing smoky chimneys as I do, squire, or you'd cure 'em." "Ah!" said Holton, with interest, "did you ever see a smoky chimney cured?" "Seen it?" said old Joe, "I think I have. I had the worst one in Seaboard county once, and I cured it a little too much." "How was that?" asked Holton. "Why, you see," said Joe, "I built a little house out yonder, at Wolf Hollow, ten or twelve years ago. Jim Bush, the fellow that built the chimneys, kept blind drunk three-quarters of the time, and crazy drunk the other. I told him I thought he'd have something wrong; but he stuck to it and finished the house. Well, we moved in, and built a fire the next morning to boil the tea-kettle. All the smoke came through the room and went out of the windows; not a bit went up the flues. We tried it for two or three days, and it got worse and worse. By and by it came on to rain, and the rain began to come down the chimney. It put the fire out in a minute, and directly it came down by the pailful. We had to get the baby off the floor as soon as we could, or it would have been drowned. In fifteen minutes the water stood knee-deep on the floor. I pretty soon saw what was the matter. The drunken cuss had put the chimney wrong end up, and it drawed downwards. It gathered all the rain within a hundred yards, and poured it down by bucketfuls." "Well, that was unfortunate," remarked Holton, "but what in the world did you do with the house? Surely you never cured that chimney?" "Didn't I, though?" answered old Joe; "yes, I did." "How?" asked Holton. "Turned it the other end up," said the incorrigible, "and then you ought to have seen it draw. That was the way I cured it too much." "Drew too much?" asked Holton. "Well, squire, you may judge for yourself," said old Joe. "Pretty soon after we got the chimney down the other end up, I missed one of the chairs out of the room, and directly I see'd another of 'em shooting towards the fireplace. Next the table went, and I see the back log going up. Then I grabbed the old woman under one arm and the baby under t'other and started; but just as I got to the door I see'd the cat going across the floor backwards, holding on with her claws to the carpet, yelling awfully. It wasn't no use. I just see her going over the top of the chimney, and that was the last of her." "Well, what did you do then?" asked Holton; "of course you could not live in such a house?" "Couldn't I, though?" said Joe; "but I did; I put a poultice on the jamb of the fireplace, and that drawed t'other way, so we had no more trouble." This is what we call hard lying.

Business And Affliction.--14.

Curious combinations are oftentimes found in the advertising columns of newspapers. The following is the announcement made by a lately bereaved wife:--"Died, on the 11th inst., at his shop, No. 20, Greenwich Street, Mr. Edward Jones, much respected by all who knew and dealt with him. As a man he was amiable; as a hatter, upright and moderate. His virtues were beyond all price, and his beaver hats were only three dollars each. He has left a widow to deplore his loss, and a large stock to be sold cheap for the benefit of his family. He was snatched to the other world in the prime of life, just as he had concluded an extensive purchase of felt, which he got so cheap that his widow can supply hats at more reasonable rates than any house in the city. His disconsolate family will carry on business with punctuality."

The Judgment Of Solomon.--15.

In the Justice's Court in New Orleans the judge was in a quandary the other day. A coat was in dispute; the parties were Irish, and the evidence was direct and positive for both claimants. After much wrangling, Patrick Power, one of the parties, proposed that he and his opponent, Timothy Maguire, should see whose name was on the coat. Timothy searched in vain, and the coat was handed to Pat, who immediately took his knife, opened a corner of the coat, and out dropped two small peas. "There, d'ye see that, now!" "Yes; but what of that?" said Timothy. "A dale it has to do wid it; it is my name to be sure--pea for Patrick, and pea for Power, be jabers!" He got the coat, he did.

Young Jeff.'S Appetite.--16.

When young Jeff. first came up to town, his father told him that it would be polite, when being helped at dinner, to say to the host, "Half that, if you please." It so happened that at the first dinner to which he was invited a sucking-pig was one of the dishes. The host, pointing with his knife to the young porker, asked, "Well, Mr. Jeff., will you have this, our favourite dish, or haunch of mutton?" Upon which, recollecting his first lesson, he replied, "Half that, if you please," to the consternation of all present.

My Pew, Sir!--17.

While the Convention which nominated General Taylor was in session at Philadelphia, a somewhat noted local politician from Pickaway county, Ohio, was in the city mingling in the muss. As the Convention adjourned over Sunday, he concluded to go to church. "I mounted my best regalia," he says, "and looked fine; stopped at the door, and asked the sexton for a seat; was shown a very good one, entirely unoccupied, in the back part of which I seated myself. In a very short time a decent-looking man, plainly dressed, entered and took the front of the pew. I held my head reverently, and looked pious. He glanced at me several times, then took out a white handkerchief; looked at me again, then took out a card, drew his pencil, wrote 'This is my pew, sir,' and tossed the card to me. I picked it up, and immediately wrote on it, 'It is a very good one; what rent do you pay?' and tossed it back."

Making A Man'S Coffin Before His Death.--18.

An amusing thing occurred in the 24th Ohio. A few days since, a soldier, passing to the lower part of the encampment, saw two others from his company making a rude coffin. He inquired who it was for. "John Bunce," said the others. "Why," replied he, "John is not dead yet. It is too bad to make a man's coffin when you don't know if he's going to die or not." "Don't you trouble yourself," replied the others; "Dr. Coe told us to make his coffin, _and I guess he knows what he give him_."

Drawing The Long Bow.--19.

A fellow was kicked out of an editorial room the other day for impudently stating "that he had seen in Germany a fiddle so large that it required two horses to draw the bow across the strings, which would continue to sound six weeks!"

A Queer Cup Of Coffee.--20.

I soon had an opportunity to judge for myself, having accepted an officer's invitation to take coffee in his tent. Captain H. was very proud of his table. His cook was said to be the best in the camp, his only fault being a disposition to a careless mixture of ingredients. "There, sir," said the captain, handing me a brimming cup, "I'll warrant you'll find that equal to anything you ever drank in Paris." I tasted. The captain saw something was wrong. He tasted. His countenance assumed a stern and mortified expression. John was called and ordered to investigate the cause of the villanous taste of the coffee. The next moment he reappeared, holding the coffee-pot in his hand. "Och, be jabers, captain," said he, "it's meself that's mortified to death. I cooked the bowl of me ould pipe in your coffee this morning, and that's the innocent cause of the bad taste intirely!"

The Treasure Trove. By B. O. B.--21.

As Jonathan Dodge reel'd home one night, Tight as a brick in a prison wall, Beneath a gas-lamp's brilliant light His eye on a something bright did fall.

He steadied himself to know the cause, And eyed it long with inquiring gaze, Wondering much what the deuce it was That glitter'd and sparkled with such a blaze.

Then stooping down, with a forward dip Which came near sending him heels o'erhead, At the glittering wonder he made a grip-- But clutch'd a handful of mud instead.

Again he tries; but another lurch, To strive against which was all in vain, Sent him sprawling out in the mud and slush, And the prize eluded his grasp again.

"The third time's lucky; I'll make it sure," Said Jonathan, rising, and turning round. "'Tis a diamond as large as the Koh-i-noor, And far (_hic_) more costly, I'll be bound."

Again he tries; hurrah! success Has crown'd his untiring efforts at last! Thus Victory always will Industry bless, And the prize is more precious for dangers pass'd.

But the flowers of Hope which we fondest nurse First wither, and bleaker leave the soul; He dashes it down with a bitter curse-- 'Twas only a piece of a broken bowl!

Remarkable Tenacity Of Life.--22.

A few evenings since, in the "private crib" of one of our exchanges, there was a learned dissertation, subject, "Bed-bugs, and their Remarkable Tenacity of Life." One asserted of his own knowledge that they could be boiled, and then come to life. Some had soaked them for hours in turpentine without any fatal consequences. Old Hanks, who had been listening as an outsider, here gave in his experience in corroboration of the facts. Says he, "Some years ago I took a bed-bug to an iron-foundry, and dropping it into a ladle where the melted iron was, had it run into a skillet. Well, my old woman used that skillet pretty constant for the last six years, and here the other day it broke all to smash; and what do you think, gentlemen, that 'ere insect just walked out of his hole, where he'd been layin' like a frog in a rock, and made tracks for his old roost upstairs! But," added he, by way of parenthesis, "he looked mighty pale."

Sam'S Soul.--23.

"Sam," said an interesting young mother to her youngest hopeful, "do you know what the difference is between the body and soul? The soul, my child, is what you love with; the body carries you about. This is your body," touching the little fellow's shoulders and arms, "but there is something deeper in--you can feel it now; what is that?" "Oh, I know," said Sam, with a flash of intelligence in his eyes, "that's my flannel shirt!"

American Estimate Of Their Clergy.--24.

The _Louisville Journal_ assures an inquiring spinster that gospel ministers are not more addicted to dissipation than men of other professions. A few of the Kalloch type take gin-toddies and liberties with females, but the majority of them are as good as lawyers. If you want a true Christian, marry an editor.

"Where Warren Fell."--25.

A Yankee gentleman, escorting a British friend around to view the different objects of attraction in the vicinity of Boston, brought him to Bunker's Hill. They stood looking at the splendid shaft, when the Yankee said, "This is the place where Warren fell." "Ah!" replied the Englishman evidently not posted up in local historical matters, "did it hurt him much?" The native looked at him, with the expression of fourteen Fourths of Julys in his countenance--"Hurt him!" said he, "he was killed, sir." "Ah! he was, eh?" said the stranger, still eyeing the monument, and computing its height in his own mind, layer by layer; "well, I should think he would have been, to fall so far."

Out-Yankeed.--26.

After the battle of Fredericksburg a little Yankee officer was talking with one of our Alabama majors, who stood in that part of the field where we had suffered most severely--dead men and horses, broken cannon, and blown-up caissons being all around him. "You hurt us powerful bad yesterday," said the Yankee. "Yes," replied the major, drily. "Guess we hurt you some, too," rejoined the Yankee, looking at the wrecks of humanity strewn about. "Didn't kill a man or a horse," said the major. The little Yankee looked up at the tall Confederate for a moment, then at the dead men and horses on every side, and then wheeled suddenly round and walked rapidly away, utterly astounded at the cool manner in which the Alabamian had out-Yankeed the Yankees in deliberate lying.

The President'S Voice.--27.

We got one darkie on the way out. He had never seen a cannon, and of course did not know what it was. He stood beside one when they fired it off, and I assure you Parry the clown never dropped as quick as he did. His eyes rolled wildly, and he alarmingly called out: "Oh Lord! hab mercy on dis poor chile. He am for de Union ebery time, sah." The artillerymen might have been tied with straws. When they had got over their laugh, they told him it was one of old Abe's guns. The nigger said, "He hab a bery loud voice."

How A "Copperhead" Was Shaved.--28.

One day, lately, a well-known gentleman in Philadelphia stepped into a barber's shop, sat in a shaving-chair, drew a newspaper from his pocket, and instructed the knight of the razor to take off his beard. The barber was an African. He simply replied, "Yes, boss," and produced his implements. The customer sat down. He was duly shaved. His face was wiped; he arose, and donned his coat and hat. "How much?" he asked, in a dolorous voice, as he adjusted his shirt-collar. "Fifteen cents, boss." "Why, I thought you shaved for ten cents at this shop." "Dat ar's de average, sah," was the reply. "Ten cents is de price of a shave in dis yer shop. You come in here, sah, and read the news of Sheridan's victory, and your face got about six inches longer dan when yer come in. If your face was like it was afore you read dat yar news ten cents was the price. When you commenced to read about de defeat of Early, den your face stretched down about four inches. Dat's what makes it wurf fifteen cents for der shave." The customer couldn't restrain a grin, though he was a Copperhead, and the hit at him was made by a "nigger." He paid the fee, and walked out. He was one of those gentlemen who go their length upon M'Clellan, and who of course shudder at every victory to the Union arms.

What He DID The First Year.--29.

In one of the courts at Hartford, Connecticut, recently, a woman was testifying on behalf of her son, and swore that he had worked on a farm ever since he was born. The lawyer who cross-examined her said, "You assert that your son has worked on a farm ever since he was born?" "I do." "What did he do the first year?" "He milked," she replied. The whole court laughed heartily, and the witness was questioned no further.

The Learned Members Of The American Legislature.--30.

A good story is told of the landlord of a hotel at Holly Springs, Miss. It was a large fashionable hotel, and the landlord was a pompous man, with a large corporosity and a ruffled shirt-bosom. Printed bills of fare were provided, yet the landlord stood at the head of the table at dinner and, in a loud voice, read off the list of articles in a rhyming way--"Here's boiled ham, and raspberry jam; baked potatoes and cooked tomatoes; turnips smashed and squashes _squashed_;" and so on. Mr. M. asked him afterward why he read it aloud when printed copies were on the table. "Force of habit," replied the landlord; "got so used to it I can't help it. You see, I commenced business down here in Jackson (the capital of Mississippi), and most of all the Legislature boarded with me. There wasn't a man of 'em could read, so I had to read the bill of fare to 'em."

A Candid Parson.--31.

A Yankee divine, of an advanced age, married for his second wife a damsel young and handsome. When the elders of the church went to inquire if the lady was a suitable person to make a useful figure as a parson's wife, he answered frankly that he didn't think she was. "But," added the irrepressible doctor, "although I don't pretend she is a saint, she is a very pretty little sinner, and I love her." The twain became one flesh.

A Stump Orator.--32.

An Ohio stumper, while making a speech, paused in the midst of it and exclaimed, "Now, gentlemen, what do you think?" Instantly a man rose in the assembly, and, with one eye partially closed, modestly replied, "I think, sir--I do indeed, sir--I think if you and I were to stump the country together we would tell more lies than any other two men in the country, sir; and I'd not say a word during the whole time, sir."

The Colonel Answered.--33.

A certain colonel, a staff officer of one of the northern generals, noted for his talent for repartee and the favourable opinion which he entertained of his own good looks, stopped at the house of a farmer, and discovered there a fine milch cow, and, still better, a pretty girl, attired in a neat calico dress cut low in the neck and short in the sleeves. After several unsuccessful attempts to engage the young lady in conversation, he proposed to her to have the cow milked for his own special benefit. This she indignantly refused. The colonel not wishing to compromise his reputation for gallantry, remarked that if all the young ladies in Virginia were as beautiful as the one he had the pleasure of addressing, he had no desire to conquer the Confederacy. With a toss of her pretty head, and a slight elevation of her nose, she answered thus: "Well, sir, if all the gentlemen in your army are as ugly as you are we ladies have no desire to conquer them." How are you, colonel?

Pithy Letter.--34.

General Rosecrans a few days ago received the following pertinent letter from an indignant private:--"General,--I have been in the service eighteen months, and have never received a cent. I desire a furlough for fifteen days, in order to return home and remove my family to the poor-house." The general granted the furlough.

The Graham System.--35.

A little prattler, who had been brought up on the Graham system, asked what she should have to eat when she went to Heaven. "The bread of life, my dear," was the reply. "Will there be any butter on it, ma?" was the quick retort.

Ward Beecher'S Preaching.--36.

Henry Ward Beecher asked Park Benjamin, the poet and humorist, why he never came over to Brooklyn to hear him preach. Benjamin replied, "Why, Beecher, the fact is, I have conscientious scruples against going to places of public amusement on Sunday."

Kissing In Wisconsin.--37.

A Milwaukee paper says that when a Wisconsin girl is kissed, she looks surprised, and says, "How could you do it?" To which the swain replies, "It will give me much pleasure to show you," and proceeds to give her a duplicate.

Too Slow For Paradise.--38.

Pickering is a very nervous little man, who fusses and fidgets about in a remarkably quick manner, and who holds in detestation anything that can possibly come under the head of a slow coach, and indulges in rather queer expressions when anything moves too slow for his views. He is blessed with a "maid-of-all-work," who has caused him to utter more profane words during the past three months than three years in purgatory can atone for. One evening last week he despatched the girl upon an errand to the neighbouring store, and according to his ideas she remained an unaccountably long time. He pulled out his watch and looked half-a-dozen times within ten minutes, whistled, drummed upon the table with his fingers, beat time with his feet upon the floor, and finally started up again and began pacing the room, as if his nervous agitation could in any degree accelerate the movements of the absent abigail. But the girl came at length, and her impatient master broke forth with--"For goodness' sake, Maggie, where have you been?" "In the store, sir," was Maggie's reply. "Well," said her master, "it is about one hundred yards to the store, and you have been fifteen minutes in going and returning." "Yes, sir," broke in the girl. "Now, Maggie," continued he, "take my advice, and when you die, remain quietly in your grave, and never make an attempt to get to Heaven." "And why not, sir?" queried the bewildered girl. "Because," said Pickering, "the sun is ninety-six millions of miles from the earth, and Heaven is beyond that; and if you ever make an attempt to get there, at the rate you move, eternity will come to an end before you reach your destination."

That'S A Good 'Un!--39.

Some one was telling Sam about the longevity of the mud turtle. "Yes," said Sam, "I know all about that, for once I found a venerable old fellow in a meadow, who was so old that he could scarcely wiggle his tail, and on his back was carved (tolerably plain, considering all things) these words: 'Paradise, Year 1, Adam.'"

Interesting To The Parties Concerned.--40.

In connexion with the late riot in that city the _Boston Journal_ publishes the following:--The individual who dropped half of his thumb at the corner of Cooper and North Mangin Streets on Tuesday night, may have some interest in knowing that it has been picked up and carefully preserved by a worthy citizen of Ward 5; and the individual in his shirt sleeves who limped off with a bullet in his hip from a spot near the same neighbourhood, on the same night, may receive the brick he gave in exchange for it by returning the bullet to the 3rd police-station.

A Knowing Juryman.--41.

A New Jersey paper tells a story of a well-known character who frequently figured on juries in New York. While on a jury, as soon as they had retired to their room to deliberate, he would button up his coat and "turn in" on a bench, exclaiming: "Gentlemen, I'm for bringing in a verdict for plaintiff (or defendant, as he had settled his mind), and all creation can't move me. Therefore, as soon as you have all agreed with me, wake me up, and we'll go in."

Pay Your Postage.--42.

An American paper commends the following terrible lines to some of its correspondents who have forgotten to prepay their letters, and saddled the editor with sundry twopences to save their penny. The wild beauty of the lines bespeaks the editor to have been in a mesmeric _coma_:--

"The man who now-a-days will write, And not prepay his letter, Is worser than the heathen are, What don't know any better.

"And if you take a fine tooth-comb, And rake down all creation, You couldn't find a meaner man In this 'ere mighty nation."

Sound Advice.--43.

The private secretary of a cabinet minister is a wag. The other day a young man, decidedly inebriated, walked into the executive chamber and asked for the governor. "What do you want with him?" inquired the secretary. "Oh, I want an office with a good salary--a sinecure." "Well," replied the secretary, "I can tell you something better for you than a sinecure--you had better try a water cure." A new idea seemed to strike the young inebriate, and he vanished.

Simplicity.--44.

An exchange tells the following simple story of a little child kneeling by his bed to pray, as he retired for the night. He said: "Dear Heavenly Father, please don't let the large cow hook me, nor the horse kick me; and don't let me run away outside of the gate when mother tells me not to."

Corking Up Daylight.--45.

It is reported that a Yankee down East has invented a machine for corking up daylight, which will eventually supersede gas. He covers the interior of a flour barrel with shoemaker's wax, holds it open to the sun, then suddenly heads up the barrel. The light sticks to the wax, and at night can be cut into lots to suit purchasers.

A Baby Story.--46.

A very curious baby story comes to us from New Jersey. A mother and a daughter were confined on the same day, each having a little son. In the bustle of the moment, both babies were placed in the same cradle, and, to the confusion of the mothers, when the youngsters were taken from the cradle, they were unable to tell which was the mother's and which was the daughter's son--a matter which, of course, must ever remain a mystery. The family is in the greatest distress over the affair.

Marriage Notices.--47.

A Western paper gives the following notice:--All notices of marriage, where no bride-cake is sent, will be set up in small type, and poked into some outlandish corner of the papers. Where a handsome piece of cake is sent, it will be put conspicuously in large letters; when gloves, or other bride favours are added, a piece of illustrative poetry will be given in addition. When, however, the editor attends the ceremony in _propriâ personâ_, and kisses the bride, it will have especial notice--very large type, and the most appropriate poetry that can be begged, borrowed, stolen, or coined from the brain editorial.

A Homely Flag Of Truce.--48.

A rebel at Gettysburg, wishing to surrender, and having nothing else for a flag of truce, dived his hands into his pantaloons, and elevated his shirt above his head, amid roars of laughter from the Federals, who immediately accepted his unconditional surrender. Rather a good thing for that rebel that he was the possessor of such a luxury as a reasonably clean shirt.

He Had Him That Time.--49.

A candidate for office, wishing to describe his opponent as a "soulless man," said: "Some persons hold the opinion that just at the precise moment after one human being dies, another is born, and the soul enters and animates the new-born babe. Now, I have made particular inquiries concerning my opponent, and I find that for some hours before he drew breath nothing but a donkey died. Fellow-citizens, I will now leave you to draw the inference."

"De Dissolution Of Coparsnips."--50.

A coloured firm in Newark, New Jersey, having suffered some pecuniary embarrassments, recently closed business, and the senior member gave to the public the following "notis:"--"De dissolution of coparsnips heretofo resisting twixt me and Mose Jones in the barber perfession, am heretofo resolved. Pussons who ose must pay to de scriber. Dem what de firm ose must call on Jones, as de firm is insolved."

Unacceptable Gratitude.--51.

Lieutenant J----n, late of the 16th regiment, was, a few days ago, walking down Main Street, Utica, when he was accosted by a fellow, half soldier, half beggar, with a most reverential military salute. "God bless your honour," said the man, whose accent betrayed him to be Irish, "and long life to you." "How do you know me?" said the lieutenant. "Is it how do I know your honour?" responded Pat. "Good right, sure, I have to know the man who saved my life in battle." The lieutenant, highly gratified at this tribute to his valour, slid a fifty cent bill into his hand, and asked him when. "God bless your honour, and long life to you," said the grateful veteran. "Sure it was at Antietam, when, seeing your honour run away as fast as your legs could carry you from the rebels I followed your lead, and ran after you out of the way whereby, under God, I saved my life. Oh! good luck to your honour; I never will forget it to you."

Feeling Her Way.--52.

General Schenck, discussing the Democratic platform, in a speech at Hamilton, Ohio, brought down the House by the following illustration:--"I know nothing at all that is like it, unless it may be the character of the fruit that is sold by an old lady who sits at the door of the court-house in Cincinnati. She is a shrewd old woman. A young sprig of a lawyer stepped up one day and said to her, 'You seem to have some fine apples; are they sweet or sour?' The old lady tried to take the measure of her customer, and find out whether his taste was for sweet or sour apples. 'Why, sir,' said she, 'they are rather acid; a sort of low tart, inclined to be very sweet.'"

Forensic Eloquence.--53.

The following is as an extract from the recent address of a barrister "out West" to a jury:--"The law expressly declares, gentlemen, in the beautiful language of Shakspeare, that where no doubt exists of the prisoner, it is your duty to fetch him in innocent. If you keep this fact in view, in the case of my client, gentlemen, you will have the honour of making a friend of him and all his relations, and you can allers look upon this occasion and reflect with pleasure that you have done as you would be done by. But if, on the other hand, you disregard the principle of law, and set at naught my eloquent remarks and fetch him in guilty, the silent twitches of conscience will follow you all over every fair cornfield, I reckon, and my injured and down-trodden client will be apt to light on you one of these dark nights, _as my cat lights on a sasserful of new milk_."

Story With A Moral.--54.

A young Yankee had formed an attachment for the daughter of a rich old farmer, and after agreeing with the "bonnie lassie" went to the old farmer to ask his consent; and during the ceremony, which was an awkward one with Jonathan, he whittled away at a stick. The old man watched the movements of the knife, at the same time continuing to talk on the prospects of his future son-in-law, as he supposed, until the stick was dwindled down to naught. He then spoke as follows:--"You have fine property, you have steady habits; good enough looking; but you can't have my daughter. Had you made something, no matter what, of the stick you whittled away, you could have had her; as it is you cannot. Your property will go as the stick did, little by little, until all is gone, and your family reduced to want. I have read your character; you have my answer."

Odd Excuse For Not Being Hung.--55.

Two bushwhackers were captured, both of whom were very properly dealt with summarily by being hanged. One of them had received a shot in the shoulder, inflicting a painful wound, disabling him from making his escape. While the officer was arranging the hempen necklace about the wounded tory's neck, it produced considerable pain in the wounded shoulder, which induced him to exclaim--"Oh! do please don't! I don't believe I can bear to be hung--my shoulder is so sore!"

An Agreeable Customer.--56.

"Stranger, I want to leave my dog in this 'ere office till the boat starts; I'm afraid somebody will steal him." "You can't do it," said the clerk; "take him out." "Well, stranger, that is cruel; but you're both dispositioned alike, and he's kinder company for you." "Take him out!" roared the clerk. "Well, stranger, I don't think you're honest, and you want watching. Here, Dragon," he said to the dog, "sit down here, and watch that fellow sharp!" and turning on his heel said: "Put him out, stranger, if he's troublesome." The dog lay there till the boat started, watching and howling at every movement of the clerk, who gave him the better half of the office.

Failed For A Good Reason.--57.

Many a glorious speculation has failed for the same good reason that the old Taxan ranger gave when he was asked why he didn't buy land when it was dog cheap. "Wall, I did come nigh onto taking eight thousand acres once't," said old Joe, mournfully. "You see, two of the boys came in one day from an Indian hunt without any shoes, and offered me their titles to two leagues just below for a pair of boots." "For a pair of boots!" we exclaimed. "But why on earth did you not take it? They'd be worth a hundred thousand dollars to-day. Why did'nt you give them the boots?" "Just because I did'nt have the boots to give," said old Joe, as he took another chew of tobacco, quite as contented as if he owned two hundred leagues of land.

Writing To The Old Woman.--58.

"Massa," said the black steward to his captain, as they fell in with a homeward-bound vessel, "I wish you would write a few lines for me to the old woman, 'cause I can't write." The good-natured skipper complied, and wrote all that Pompey dictated. As the captain was about to seal up the letter, Pompey reminded him that he had omitted to say, "Please 'scuse de bad writin' and spellin'."

"I'M The Baggage."--59.

As the mid-day Worcester train was about leaving the _dépôt_, a man of the Johnsonian type of manners entered one of the cars, and gruffly requested that two young ladies occupying separate seats should sit together, that he and his friend might enjoy a _tête-à-tête_ on the other seat. "But," said one of the damsels, blushing, "this seat is engaged." "Engaged, is it?" brusquely responded the man; "who engaged it!" "A young man," said the conscious maiden. "A young man, eh! where's his baggage?" persisted Ursa Major. "I'm his baggage, Old Hateful," replied the demure damsel, putting her rosy lips into the prettiest pout. "Old Hateful" subsided; the young man came in, extended his arm protectingly, almost caressingly, around his "baggage," and Mr. Conductor Capron started the train.

Cross Purposes.--60.

A colporteur recently entered a log-house of a dweller in Ohio, and asked the mistress of the household if they had the gospel there. She said: "No; but they have it dreadful bad about four miles below." This may have been the same colporteur who entered another log-house, and inquired if there were any Presbyterians in that vicinity. He was answered: "I guess not; my old man has not killed any since we have lived here." In one instance the colporteur was taken for a doctor; in the other for a hunter.

The Chickens In Tennessee.--61.

One day a wealthy old lady, whose plantation was in the vicinity of the camp, came in and inquired for General Payne. When the commander made his appearance, the old lady, in warm language, at once acquainted him with the fact that his men had stolen her last coop full of chickens, and demanded their restitution or their value in currency. "I am sorry for you, madam," replied the general, "but I can't help it. The fact is, madam, we are determined to squelch out the rebellion, if it takes every chicken in Tennessee."

A Sonnet Instead Of A Bonnet.--62.

An officer in Banks's department recently received a letter from his little daughter at home, asking him to send her money with which to buy a new bonnet, to which he replied as follows:--

"I would send you a kiss, dear daughter, As pure from a fond father's lips, And as chaste as the drop of water That fresh from an icicle drips; But kisses thus sent in a letter Would lose all their sweetness for thee, And I know it would please thee far better To receive a few greenbacks from me. But as I am 'hard up,' and you not in need, You will have to put up with the will for the deed; I therefore send you this nice little sonnet, Instead of the greenbacks to buy you a bonnet."

The Old Hen And Chickens.--63.

Aunt E. was trying to persuade little Eddy to retire at sundown. "You see, my dear, how the little chickens go to roost at that time." "Yes, aunty," replied Eddy, "but the old hen always goes with them." Aunty tried no more arguments with him.

Strange Peculiarities.--64.

A Western editor sums up the peculiarities of a contemporary as follows:--He is too lazy to earn a meal, and too mean to enjoy one. He was never generous but once, and that was when he gave the itch to an apprentice boy--so much for his goodness of heart! Of his industry, he says, the public may judge when he states that the only time he ever worked was when he mistook castor oil for honey.

Grim Welcome.--65.

On the evening before the last unsuccessful attempt to storm the defences of Port Hudson, some of our skirmishers were endeavouring, under cover of darkness, to draw closer to the rebel works. A rebel sentinel discovered them, and hallooed out: "How are you, Yank?" One of our men replied: "Yes, we're bound to come." "All right," returned the rebel, "we have got room enough to bury you."

Bachelorism A Luxury.--66.

"You bachelors ought to be taxed," said Mrs. Dackford to a resolute evader of the matrimonial noose. "I agree with you perfectly, madam," was the reply, "for bachelorism is a luxury."

A Cool Customer.--67.

The _Winsted_ (Ct.) _Herald_ thinks the fellow who wrote the following note, not considering it any disappointment to postpone his wedding, is a philosopher. The note was addressed to a Winsted clothing dealer:--"Dear Sir,--I do not care for the velvet collar, so you may do as you please about putting it on. It was no serious disappointment, only I should have been married if I had received the goods."

Scripture Names.--68.

Some young ladies who had been attending an evening party, desired to return home, but had no male attendant. The master of the house requested his son to accompany them, and made use of a scripture name. What was it? Jeroboam--Jerry beau 'em.

Jerry proving reluctant, the gentleman desired another son to act as escort. What scripture name did he utter? Lemuel--Lem you will.

Still there was a difficulty, and a like request was made in a similar manner to another son. What was it? Samuel--Sam you will.

Sam having consented, the parties took their seats in a sleigh, for the purpose of going home. It was found there was plenty of room for one more. What scripture name did the old gentleman use to induce another son to accompany the guests? Benjamin--Ben jam in.

The driver was requested to start in another scripture name. What was it? Joshua--Josh away.

When the sleigh was fairly off, it was discovered that one of the young ladies had been left behind. There was no possibility of recalling her companions, so the old gentleman asked still another of his sons to console the young lady for her disappointment. What was the last scripture name thus used? Ebenezer--Eben ease her.

An Inquiring Mind.--69.

Some people have very inquiring minds; but few, we think, carry their curiosity so far as a Yankee friend of ours, who rang the bell of a fashionable residence the other day, and when the servant girl made her appearance, politely inquired, "What are you going to have for dinner to-day?" The girl, thinking the man was one of their tradesmen, and had made the inquiry in his business capacity, innocently replied, "Mutton, sir." "Mutton--with sauce?" "Yes, sir." "Ah, well! I was passing by, and thought I would inquire. Good morning." The servant was indignant when she came to comprehend the man's motive, but he was too far up the street to hear her angry denunciations.

The Way Of The World.--70.

Mr. Dickson, a coloured barber in a large New England town, was shaving one of his customers, a respectable citizen, one morning, when a conversation occurred between them respecting Mr. Dickson's former connexion with a coloured church in that place. "I believe you are connected with the church in Elm Street, are you not, Mr. Dickson?" said the customer. "No, sah, not at all." "Why did you leave your connexion, Mr. Dickson, if I maybe permitted to ask?" "Well, I'll tell you, sah," said Mr. Dickson; "it was just like dis: I jined the church in good fait; I gave ten dollars towards de stated gospel de fus' year, and de church people call me _Brudder_ Dickson; the second year my business was not so good, and I gib only five dollars. Dat year people call me _Mr._ Dickson. Dis razor hurt you, sah?" "No, the razor goes tolerably well." "Well, sah, the third I fell berry poor; had sickness in my family, and didn't gib nothin' for preachin'. Well, sah, arter dat dey call me 'dat ole nigger Dickson,' and I left 'em."

Knocking At The Church Door.--71.

An Indianapolis editor attending church on a recent Sabbath for the first time in many years, stopped at the entrance, and after looking in vain for the bell-pull, deliberately knocked at the door, and politely waited until somebody opened it and let him in.

Scene In An American Court.--72.

There was a hush in the police court-room as the red-nosed judge took his seat upon the bench, and in a pompous tone of authority shouted, "Bring the prisoner into court!" "Here I am, bound to blaze, as the spirit of turpentine said when he was all a-fire," said the prisoner. "We'll take a little fire out of you. How do you live?" asked the judge. "I ain't particular, as the oyster said when they asked him if he'd be roasted or fried." "We don't want to know what the oyster said, or the spirits of turpentine either. What do you follow?" "Anything that comes in my way, as the locomotive said when she ran over a little nigger." "Don't care anything about the locomotive. What is your business?" "That's various, as the cat said when she stole the chicken off the table." "If I hear any more absurd comparisons, I will give you twelve months." "I'm done, as the beefsteak said to the cook." "Now, sir, your punishment shall depend on the shortness and correctness of your answers. I suppose you live by going round the docks." "No, sir; I can't go around the docks without a coat, and I ain't got none." "Answer me, sir! How do you get your bread?" "Sometimes at the baker's, and sometimes I eat taters." "No more of your stupid nonsense. How do you support yourself?" "Sometimes on my legs, and sometimes on a chair." "How do you keep yourself alive?" "By breathing, sir." "I order you to answer this question correctly. How do you do?" "Pretty well, I thank you, judge. How do you do?" "I shall have to commit you." "Well, you've committed yourself first, that's some consolation." The prisoner went out of court with a jerk, and was hastened to gaol.

Soap Coming Handy.--73.

During one of the recent battles, while a regiment of our troops was rapidly marching over a dusty road, in changing their position on the field, a soldier noticed a cake of soap at a little distance from the rank, and sprang forward to get it, saying, "I shall need it after this fight." The shells of the enemy were falling thickly; and just as the soldier seized the soap, one dropped close behind him and exploded, tearing open an immense hole in the earth, and nearly burying the poor fellow. Every one supposed he was blown to pieces, but almost immediately he struggled out, begrimed with dirt from head to foot, yet holding on to the soap, and exclaiming, "There, I told you I should need it!" Fortunately, he passed through the battle unhurt, and found his well-earned soap a great convenience.

A Condensed Novel.--74.

Josh, here am a seafaring novel, dat missis gib me, case she know'd I was too lazy to read de whole book; and, by golly, it am just de ting for dese people dat lub to skip ober such stuff! Just read it: Gulf of Mexico; small ship; young man; very interesting; very romantic; black glossy curls; aquiline features; florid complexion; commanding figure; black clouds; "Pipe all hands to quarters;" storm coming on; very dangerous; "All hands to the pumps;" "There goes the gib!" masts cut away; storm clearing; all hands pumping; monster ship in the distance; very suspicious; black flag; skull and cross-bones; pirate; sailors fearful; young man determined; bound to die or perish in the attempt; armed to the teeth; addresses the sailors; great enthusiasm; flag of the free; die for our country; pirate approaches; hundred guns; pirate captain; big whiskers; crew all fiends; calls for a surrender; young man scorns; broadside; female shrieks on board the pirate ship; beauty in distress; young man vows vengeance; young man's ship sinking; flag shot off; nails it to the mast; crew leave in boats; board the pirate; terrific combat; seven pirates attack boatswain; kills two with a chaw of tobacco; throws others overboard; sharks around vessel; young man kills pirate captain; pirates give in; shouts tremendous; victory; young man rushes into cabin; finds young lady nearly dead; brings her to; falls in love; papers discovered; young man son of a nobleman; young lady rich heiress; tells her story; was stolen way by gipsies; sold to pirate captain; Heaven sent young man; preserved; falls on her knees; young man embraces her; sailors get drunk; marriage at sea; "life on the ocean wave;" ship in port; young man promoted; land of liberty. "Yankee Doodle!" FINIS.

Securing His Trunk.--75.

A traveller stopped at a hotel in Wheeling several days. His trunk looked cheap, but was very heavy, when carried up-stairs. Traveller disappeared; trunk was heavier than before; it could not be lifted. Landlord broke it open; found it empty, and nailed to the floor, with two spikes driven through the bottom.

A Dry Joke In A Dry Goods' Store.--76.

An amusing incident recently took place in one of our dry goods' stores down town. A good-looking, honest-faced country girl, came to town with her lover, to do a trifle of shopping. The magnitude of the store, the piles on piles of goods, the dazzling array of articles, the rows of busy clerks, the flitting cash boys, quite overpowered our good friend, who scarcely knew what to do. Her swain obstinately refused to go in, but loitered about the door. The clerks being all busy just at the moment, the young lady was obliged to remain standing a few moments. At length, a dapper fellow, with gold watch and chain and flourishing moustache, came bowing and smiling up to the blushing customer, with--"Anybody waiting on you, madam?" The colour deepened in her cheeks, as she hesitated and drew a long breath; till, finally, with a nod of her head towards the door, she faltered out, "Yes, sir; he is."

Yankee Notion Of Macbeth.--77.

After having witnessed the performance, from what I could make out of the play I don't think Macbeth was a good moral character; and his lady appeared to me to possess a tarnation dictatorial temper, and to have exceedingly loose notions of hospitality, which, together with an unpleasant habit of talking to herself and walking about _en chemise_, must make her a decidedly unpleasant companion.

The Pugnacious Ram.--78.

John B. Gough, in one of his eloquent temperance lectures, was encouraging those who signed the pledge to stick to it. "Stick to it," said he, "as the old ram did to his butting." The story is that a farmer had a ram which would run his head against the cows, horses, pigs, and, indeed, against everything in motion. The farmer himself was more than once butted over, and he finally determined to break up this propensity: so he tied a heavy block of wood upon a rope, and hung it on the limb of a tree. The block was set in motion, and the ram, seeing it move towards him, hit it a blow. This sent it off; but it swung back, and the ram hit it again, and so kept on doing. The farmer watched him until it was dark, and then left him (true to his nature) butting away. Early in the morning, on going out to see how the ram had fared, he found that he had butted himself all away, except a part of his tail, and that was hammering away at the swinging block. That's the way to stick to your pledge.

A Horrified Dandy.--79.

A dandy, who was seated on the balcony of a Saratoga hotel, among a large company, was exquisitely dressed, and very highly perfumed with musk, which is very disagreeable to some persons. A plain farmer happening to pass near him, commenced snuffing suspiciously, and, looking around for the cause of the musky effluvia, he soon smelt out the dandy, and thus addressed him:--"I say, mister, I can tell ye what'll take that smell out of yer clothes: just bury 'em under ground for a week. My uncle run agin a skunk once, and--" but before the sentence was finished the enraged dandy sped from the crowd to escape the shouts of laughter, while the innocent farmer, who only meant to do him a kindness, was wondering what caused his sudden departure.

Striking Effect Of A Strike.--80.

A Boston contemporary says he finds among his exchanges the following paragraph:--"The p_r_interS aRe on A [upside down S]_tr_iKe [side down f]or hi[upside down g]her [upside down wa]GeS, [upside down W]e H[sideways a]ve [sideways C]on_c_Lude_d_ tO sEt o[sideways u]r o[sideways w]n tYp[upside down e]s [upside down i]n f_u_tUr[upside down e]! It [sideways si] EAsy [upside down e]Nou[_upside down g_]h," [TN: "The printers are on a strike for higher wages, we have concluded to set our own types in future! It is easy enough,".]

Habits Of A Great Man.--81.

Several paragraphs (says a New York paper) have been going the rounds in relation to the habits of great men, which paragraphs, as usual, are all wrong; inasmuch as we have had the pleasure of dining and hobnobbing with all the great men of this and every other country on the face of the globe. An illustration will prove this to the satisfaction of everybody. Mr. Seward generally rises from his bed in the morning about the time he gets up. He rarely, if ever, eats his breakfast before he gets it. He is not particular what kind of food he has, if he is provided with what he calls for. In his dress he is plain; never appearing in public without his pantaloons. He never wears his vest outside of his coat. He speaks his native dialect without a foreign accent. As an evidence of the methodical precision with which he attends to business, it is only necessary to allude to the fact that he invariably draws his salary the moment it is due; his memory in this respect is prodigious. He generally writes on paper, and uses a pen, which at intervals he dips into a stand of ink, that he keeps upon his table.

Billy Bray.--82.

The enrolling officer of Salisbury district, Maryland, was very active and thorough in the performance of his duty. One day he went to the house of a countryman, and finding none of the male members of the family at home, made inquiry of an old woman about the number and age of the "males" of the family. After naming several, the old lady stopped. "Is there no one else?" asked the officer. "No," replied the woman; "none except Billy Bray." "Billy Bray! where is he?" "He was at the barn a moment ago," said the old lady. Out went the officer, but could not find the man. Coming back, the worthy officer questioned the old lady as to the age of Billy, and went away, after enrolling his name among those to be drafted. The time of the drafting came; among those on whom the lot fell was Billy Bray. No one knew him. Where did he live? The officer who enrolled him was called on to produce him; and, lo and behold! Billy Bray was a _Jackass_! and stands now on the list of drafted men as forming one of the quota of Maryland.

Transatlantic Matrimonial Advertisements.--83.

We clip the subjoined advertisements relating to matrimony from the _New York Herald_. As they are unique in their way, our readers will, no doubt, be amused by perusing them. It is to be hoped that the ardent gentleman in quest of "some congenial soul" is by this time in a fair way of resigning his bachelorhood:--

"'De Factum.'--The undersigned, a young gentleman versed in the ways of the world, and of a cheerful temperament, seeks for some congenial soul with whom he can exchange vows of unchanging love. He is considered good-looking, is twenty-five years of age, and possesses a comfortable fortune. Wealth no object, as a true-hearted lady is all he desires. Any young lady or widow may, if they are prompted by sincere motives, address," &c.

"Two young gentlemen, possessed of large fortunes, but rather green, wish to open correspondence with young ladies of the same circumstances, with a view to matrimony. Brunettes preferred; but no objection to blondes, provided they are perfect--past all parallel. Address," &c.

"I am desirous to form the acquaintance of an Italian or Spanish gentleman with an ultimate view to marriage. As I cannot see myself as others see me, of myself I say nothing. Address," &c.

"Should this meet the eye of any sensible man not over thirty-five, who would like a wife that understands housekeeping in all its branches, educated and refined, whose forte is not all in a piano, he can address, &c. Cartes de visite desired."

A Citizen Of All The States.--84.

A son of the Emerald Isle, but not himself green, was taken up (for he was at the time down) near a rebel encampment not far from the Manassas Junction. In a word, Pat was taking a quiet nap in the shade, and was roused from his slumbers by a scouting party. He wore no special uniform of either army, but looked more like a spy than an alligator, and on this he was arrested. "Who are you?" "What is your name?" and "Where are you from?" were the first questions put to him by the armed party. Pat rubbed his eyes, scratched his head, and answered: "By my faith, gintlemen, them is ugly questions to answer any how; and before I answer any of them, I'd be after axin you, by yer lave, the same thing." "Well," said the leader, "We are of Scott's army, and belong to Washington." "All right," said Pat; "I know'd ye was gintlemen, for I am the same. Long life to Gineral Scott!" "Aha!" replied the scout, "now, you rascal, you are our prisoner," and seized him by the shoulder. "How is that?" inquired Pat; "are we not friends?" "No," was the answer; "we belong to General Beauregard's army." "Then you told me a lie, me boys; and thinking it might be so, I told you another. Now, tell me the truth, and I'll tell the truth too." "Well, we belong to the State of South Carolina." "So do I," promptly responded Pat, "and to all the other States of the country too; and there I'm thinking I bate the whole of ye. Do you think I would come all the way from Ireland to belong to one State, when I had a right to belong to the whole of 'em?"

Mixing The Babies.--85.

Patrick Lyon, an Irishman, and Hans Heidelbrooke, a German, and their families, both occupy one house in Cincinnati. Some nights since the families of both were increased, Pat's wife presenting him with twins, and Hans' wife presenting him with one, all girls. The nurse being desirous of contemplating the relative beauties of the little cherubs, with the hopes of finding out if there is any difference between a youthful Teuton and a cherub of Erin, got them so hopelessly mixed that it was impossible to distinguish "tother from which." Here was a terrible state of affairs. But the mother wit of the Irishwoman solved the difficulty. She was entitled to two of the children any how, and two she would take, and if either of them when grown up should talk Dutch she would repudiate its paternity and lay claim to the third. The Dutch woman coincided with the idea, and clasped to her bosom the remaining child, resolved to watch for the first indication of the brogue that might change her parental love to unmitigated disgust.

Daniel Webster And William Wirt.--86.

Daniel Webster was once engaged in a case in one of the Virginia courts, and the opposing counsel was William Wirt, author of the "Life of Patrick Henry," which has been criticised as a brilliant romance. In the progress of the case Mr. Webster produced a highly respectable witness, whose testimony (unless disproved or impeached) settled the case, and annihilated Mr. Wirt's client. After getting through the testimony he informed Mr. Wirt, with a significant expression, that he was through with the witness, and he was at his service. Mr. Wirt rose to commence the cross-examination, but seemed for a moment quite perplexed how to proceed, but quickly assumed a manner expressive of his incredulity as to the facts elicited, and coolly eyeing the witness a moment he said: "Mr. K----, allow me to ask you whether you have ever read a work called Baron Munchausen?" Before the witness had time to reply, Mr. Webster quickly rose and said: "I beg your pardon, Mr. Wirt, for the interruption, but there was one question I forgot to ask the witness, and if you will allow me that favour I promise not to interrupt you again." Mr. Wirt, in the blandest manner, replied, "Yes, most certainly;" when Mr. Webster, in the most deliberate and solemn manner, said: "Sir, have you ever read Wirt's 'Life of Patrick Henry?'" The effect was so irresistible, that even the judge could not control his rigid features. Mr. Wirt himself joined in the momentary laugh, and turning to Mr. Webster said, "Suppose we submit this case to the jury without summing up;" which was assented to, and Mr. Webster's client won the case.

Not To Be Done.--87.

You have heard, perhaps, reader, of the encounter between an Englishman and the market-woman at a fruit-stand in New York. The Englishman had learned of the Yankee habit of bragging, and he thought he would cut the comb of that propensity. He saw some huge watermelons on the market-woman's stand, and walking up to her, and pointing at them with a look of disappointment, said: "What! don't you raise bigger apples than these in America?" The woman looked at him for a moment, and then retorted: "Apples! any body might know you was an Englishman. Them's huckleberries."

Caught Unawares.--88.

A wager was laid on the Yankee peculiarity of answering one question by asking another. To decide the bet a Down-Easter was interrogated. "I want you," said the better, "to give me a straightforward answer to a plain question." "I kin du it, mister," said the Yankee. "Then why is it New Englanders always answer a question by asking one in return?" "_Du they?_" was Jonathan's reply.

The Young Patriot.--89.

"No, William Baker, you cannot have my daughter's hand in marriage until you are equal in wealth and social position." The speaker was a haughty old man of some sixty years, and the person whom he addressed was a fine-looking young fellow of twenty-five. With a sad aspect, the young man withdrew from the stately mansion. Six months later he stood again in the presence of the haughty father, who thus angrily addressed him: "What! you here again?" "Ah, old man," proudly exclaimed William Baker, "I am here--your daughter's equal and yours!" The old man's lip curled with scorn, a derisive smile lit up his cold features; when casting violently upon the marble centre table an enormous roll of greenbacks, William Baker cried--"See! Look on this wealth; and I've tenfold more! Listen, old man! You spurned me from your door, but I did not despair. I secured a contract for furnishing the army of the ---- with beef----" "Yes, yes!" eagerly exclaimed the old man. "And I bought up all the disabled cavalry horses I could find----" "I see, I see!" cried the old man; "and good beef they make, too." "They do, they do! and the profits are immense." "I should say so." "And now, sir, I claim your daughter's fair hand." "Boy, she is yours. But hold! Look me in the eye. Throughout all this have you been loyal?" "To the core!" cried William Baker. "And," continued the old man, in a voice husky with emotion, "are you in favour of a vigorous prosecution of the war?" "I am, I am!" "Then, boy, take her! Maria, child, come hither. Your William claims thee. Be happy, my children! And, whatever our lot in life may be, let us all support the Government."

Demosthenes Not Dead.--90.

They have orators out in Illinois, if we trust the description of a certain military one, furnished us by a correspondent in that State:--It was in dog-days, and a great hue and cry had been raised about mad dogs. Although no person could be found who had seen one, the excitement still grew by the rumours it was fed on. A meeting of the citizens was called for the purpose of devising plans for the extermination not only of mad dogs, but, to make safety doubly sure, of dogs in general. The "brigadier" was appointed chairman. After stating the objects of the meeting in a not very parliamentary manner, instead of taking his seat and allowing others to make some suggestions, he launched forth into a speech of some half-hour's length, of which the following burst of forensic splendour is a sample:--"FELLER CITIZENS,--The time has come when the overcharged feelings of aggrawated human natur are no longer to be stood. Mad dogs are midst of us; their shriekin' yelp and fomy track can be heered and seen on our peraries. Death follers in their wake; shall we sit here like cowards while our lives and our neighbours' lives are in danger from their dreadful vorashus hidrofobie caninety? No, it mustn't be. E'en now my house is torn with conflictin' feelin's of wrath and wengeance; a funeral pyre of wild cats is burstin' within me. I have horses and cattle, I have sheep and pigs, I have a wife and children, and," rising higher as the importance of the subject deepened in his estimation, "I have money out at interest; _all in danger of bein' bit by these infernal dogs_!"

A Puzzled Judge.--91.

A man, named Josh, was brought before a country squire for stealing a hog, and three witnesses being examined swore they saw him steal it. A wag, having volunteered as counsel for Josh, knowing the scope of the squire's brain, arose and addressed him as follows:--"May it please your honour, I can establish this man's honesty beyond the shadow of a doubt, for I have twelve witnesses ready to swear that they DID NOT see him steal it." The squire rested his head for a few moments upon his hand, as if in deep thought, and with great dignity arose, and, brushing back his hair, said: "If there are twelve who did not see him steal it, and only three who did, I discharge the prisoner."

To Newspaper Borrowers.--92.

An up-country editor thus pays his respects to "Newspaper borrowers--May theirs be a life of single blessedness; may their paths be carpeted with cross-eyed snakes, and their nights be haunted with knock-kneed tom-cats."

Paddle Your Own Canoe.--93.

Up this world, and down this world, And over this world and through, Though drifted about, And tossed without, Why, "paddle your own canoe."

What though the sky is heavy with clouds, Or shining a field of blue; If the bleak wind blows, Or the sunshine glows, Still "paddle your own canoe."

What if breakers rise up ahead, With dark waves rushing through, Move steadily by With a steadfast eye, And "paddle your own canoe."

If a hurricane rise in the midnight skies, And the stars are lost to view, Glide safely along, With a smile and a song, And "paddle your own canoe."

Up this world, and down this world, And over this world and through, Though weary and worn, Bereft and forlorn, Still "paddle your own canoe."

Never give up when trials come, Never grow sad and blue. Never sit down With a tear and a frown, But "paddle your own canoe."

There are daisies springing along the shores, Blooming and sweet for you; There are rose-hued dyes In the autumn skies-- Then "paddle your own canoe."

To Snorers.--94.

An inventive Yankee has produced an apparatus which, he says, is a cure for snoring. He fastens upon the nose a gutta-percha tube leading to the tympanum of the ear. Whenever the snorer snores, he himself receives the first impression, finds how disagreeable it is, and, of course, reforms.

Ingenious Boot-Black.--95.

The street boot-blacks are one of the "institutions" of New York, as well as of some other large cities. These boys are generally so polite and so industrious that we rather like them, and sometimes take a "shine up" just to see them work, and to chat with the smart little fellows. Here is a case illustrating their ingenuity:--A well-dressed man standing at a hotel-door not long since was hailed by one of them with the usual question, "Shine up, sir?" "What do you charge for blacking boots?" asked the man, who was somewhat noted for stinginess. "Five cents," was the reply. "Too much, too much; I'll give you three cents," said the man. "All right," said the youngster, and at it he went with might and main, and very soon had one boot shining like a mirror; but, instead of commencing on the other he began to pack up his brushes. "You havn't finished," exclaimed the man. "Never mind," replied the boot-black, with a twinkle in his eye; "I won't charge you anything for what I've done; there comes a customer who pays." The man glanced at the shining boot, then at the other, which was rusty and bespattered with mud, thought of the ridiculous figure he would make with _one_ polished boot, and amid the laughter of the bystanders agreed to give the sharp boy ten cents to finish the job, which he did in double quick time, and with great pleasure.

A Yankee'S Autobiography.--96.

Sir, I was born and raised in Connecticut; Bolted to sea, and was wreck'd in Japan; Quite a respectable figure I 'spect I cut, When coming back to keep school I began. Guess at the saw-mill I proved a top sawyer, And as a minister made a small splurge; Reckon I felt more at home as a lawyer, Ere as a doctor I learn'd how to purge. But the long words in the medical lexicon Soon I forgot from a couple of years Spent in campaigning against the darn'd Mexican, When I commanded the Bragg Volunteers. Just for a change, then a paper I edited, Scorch'd politicians, and pitch'd into books; That was before I was envoy accredited-- Austrian plenipo--General Snooks. 'Tis a slow life--that of Minister resident-- Posting despatches to kings, and what not; But, as they propose to run me for President, Hang'd if I care to repine at my lot.

Cold Picture.--97.

An eminent artist, American, of course, lately painted a snow-storm so naturally that he caught a bad cold by sitting near it with his coat off.

Lincoln On Nigger Mathematics.--98.

Our humorous Chief Magistrate was lately visited by one of the "On to Richmond," sword of Gideon gentry, who confidently expressed the hope so common among the abolition noodles, that Lee's army would be "bagged." The President grinned to the utmost of his classic mouth, and remarked that he was afraid there would be too much "nigger mathematics" in it. The visitor smiled at the allusion, as he felt bound in politeness to do, supposing there must be something in it, though he could not see the point. "But I suppose you don't know what 'nigger mathematics' is?" continued Mr. Lincoln. "Lay down your hat a minute and I'll tell you." He himself resumed the sitting posture, leaned back in his chair, elevated his heels on the table, and went on with his story. "There was a darky in my neighbourhood called Pompey, who, from a certain quickness in figuring up the prices of chickens and vegetables, got the reputation of being a mathematical genius. Mr. Johnson, a darkey preacher, heard of Pompey and called to see him. 'Here ye're a great mat'm'tishum, Pompey.' 'Yes sar, you jas try.' 'Well, Pompey, Ize compound a problem in mat'matics.' 'All right, sar.' 'Now Pompey, spose dere am tree pigeons sittin' on a rail-fence, and you fire a gun at 'em and shoot one, how many's left?' 'Two, ob coors,' replies Pompey, after a little wool scratching. 'Ya! ya! ya!' laughs Mr. Johnson; 'I knowed you was a fool, Pompey; dere's none left; one's dead, and dudder two's flown away.' That's what makes me say," continued Mr. Lincoln, "that I am afraid there was too much 'nigger mathematics' in the Pennsylvania campaign." And the result showed that in this instance, at least, the anecdote suited the fact. Lee's army was the three pigeons. One of them was taken down at Gettysburg, but the other two flew over the Potomac.

The Wrong Train.--99.

Some young men, going from Columbus to Cincinnati Ohio, in the cars, were getting rather noisy and profane, when a gentleman in a white cravat tapped one of them on the shoulder, with the remark, "Young man, do you know that you are on the road to perdition?" "That's just my luck; I got a ticket for Cincinnati, and I've got into the wrong train."

Scientific Agreement.--100.

A California paper tells the story of a showman who delighted an "appreciating public" with a view of the Mammoth Cave. It was his custom, as each scene was exhibited, to explain it. When the great cave came to view, he stepped forward and said: "Ladies and gentlemen, this is a great phenomena--indeed, the greatest of the world. The learned of all nations have visited it; but while none could agree as to the cause which had produced it, they all came to this grand conclusion, that it was one of the most tremendous holes in the ground they had ever seen."

The Saddest Sight.--101.

The attention of bachelors is invited to the following "wail" from the _Springfield Republican_:--"There are some sad sights in this world: a city sacked and burned--a London in the midst of a plague--a ship burning at sea--a family pining in starvation--a jug of molasses wrecked on the pavement; but the saddest sight to us of all is an old bachelor, stolidly walking towards his end, his great duties undone, his shirt buttons off, his stockings out at the toes, and nobody to leave his money to. Were we such a man, the mild, reproving eye of a widow or maiden lady would drive us mad. But there is still hope. Uglier and older men than any of our friends have married beautiful wives, who trained them admirably, and spent their money elegantly."

No Doubt.--102.

A western editor, in noticing a new and splendid hearse, says, "He has no doubt it will afford much satisfaction to those who use it."

Job'S Patience--As Viewed By A Lady.--103.

If there _is_ a proverb that needs revamping, it is "_the patience of Job_." Now, in the first place, Job _wasn't_ patient. Like all the rest of his sex, from that day to the present, he could be heroic only for a time. He _began_ bravely, but ended, as most of them do under annoyance, by cursing and swearing. Patient as Job! Did Job ever try, when he was hungry, to eat shad with a frisky baby in his lap? Did Job ever try, after nursing one all night, and upon taking his seat at the breakfast-table the morning after, to pour out coffee for six people, and second cups at that, before he had a chance to take a mouthful himself? Pshaw! I've no patience with "Job's patience." It is of no use to multiply instances; but there's not a faithful house-mother in the land who does not out-distance him in the sight of men and angels every hour in the twenty-four.

Hunting Up A Soft Place.--104.

"I was down to see the widow yesterday," said Tim's uncle, "and she gave me a dinner. I went down rather early in the morning. We talked, and laughed, and chatted, and run on, she going out and in occasionally, till dinner was ready, when she helped me graciously to a piece of pie. Now I thought that, Tim, rather favourable. I took it as a symptom of personal approbation, because everybody knows I love pigeon pie, and I flattered myself she had cooked it on purpose for me. So I grew particularly cheerful, and thought I could see it in her too. So, after dinner, while sitting close beside the widow, I fancied we both felt kind of comfortable like: I know I did. I fell over head and ears in love with her, and I imagined, from the way she looked, she had fallen in love with me. She appeared for all the world as if she thought it was coming. Presently--I couldn't help it--I laid my hand softly on her beautiful shoulder, and I remarked, when I placed it there, in my blandest tones, Tim--for I tried to throw my whole soul into the expression--I remarked, then, with my eyes pouring love, truth, and fidelity right into hers: 'Widow, this is the nicest, softest place I ever had my hand in all my life!' Looking benevolently at me, and at the same time flushing up a little, she said, in melting and winning tones: 'Doctor, give me your hand, and I'll put it on a much softer place.' In a moment, in rapture, I consented, and, taking my hand, she very gently, Tim, and quietly laid it on my head. Now, Tim, I havn't told this to a livin' soul but you, and, by jinks! you musn't. But I couldn't hold in any longer, so I tell you; but, mind, it musn't go any further."

English Grammar.--105.

The "Comic Grammar" says:--

But remember, though box In the plural makes boxes, The plural of ox Should be _oxen_, not oxes.

To which an exchange paper adds:--

And remember, though fleece In the plural is fleeces, That the plural of goose Aren't _gooses_ nor _geeses_.

We may also be permitted to add:--

And remember, though house In the plural is houses, The plural of mouse Should be _mice_, and not _mouses_.

--_Philadelphia Gazette._

All of which goes to prove That grammar a farce is; For where is the plural Of rum and molasses?

--_New York Gazette._

The plural--_Gazette_-- Of rum don't us trouble; Take one glass too much And you're sure to see double.

--_Brooklyn Daily Advertiser._

A pair of blue eyes-- Just to vary the strain-- Says the plural of kiss Is--"Do it again!"

--_Howard County Sentinel._

Our English vernacular Is rife in abuse: "Unloose" is the same thing As if you said _loose_!

--_Montreal Pilot._

To these observations We also might add Much to prove that all grammar's Deplorably bad; But for Lennie and Murray We have too much respect, To say e'en a word Having evil effect.

--_Anon._

All Well.--106.

A young lady of extraordinary capacity, addressed the following letter to her cousin:--"We is all well, and mother's got the his Terrix; brother Tom is got the Hupin Kaugh, and sister Ann has got a babee, and hope these few lines will find you the same. Rite sune. Your apfhectionate kuzzen."

What He Always DID At Home.--107.

There is a story told of an Irishman who, landing in our harbour, was met and welcomed by a countryman who had been longer here. "Welcome, Pat," said the latter, "I'm glad to see ye; ye've come just in time, for to-morrow's election day." Pat and his friend took some refreshment together, and presently the newly arrived began to make some inquiries about voting. "Ye'll vote for who ye plaize," said his friend, "sure it's a free counthry." "Well, thin, begorra," rejoined Pat, "I go agin the Government, that's what I always did at home."

Having The Coffin Handy.--108.

A man near Cleveland, Ohio, applied for exemption from the draft because an old mother needed his cherishing care. To show how much feeling this affectionate son has for his old mother, the neighbours say he has had her coffin in the house for over two years. He came to town with a load of wood one day, and being unable to sell it, he contrived to trade it off with an undertaker for a coffin. His mother being old, might die suddenly, and then, as Mrs. Toddles says, "how handy it would be to have in the house." Being of a frugal as well as an ingenious turn of mind, he put the coffin in the cellar to keep turnips, against such time as the old lady might drop off.

Paternal Advice.--109.

"Ven you arrive at the dignity of sawin' wood, Lafayette, if you is elvevated to that perfesshun, mind and always saw de biggest fust; cause vy? you'll only have te leetle vuns to saw ven you gets tired out. Ven you eats pie, as I spose you may if you lives to be a man, eat de crust fust--tain't a good thing to top off with, if it's tough and thick as sole leather. Ven you piles up wood, alvays put de pig vuns on to te bottom--always, Lafayette, cause it's mighty hard vork to lift dem to de top ob te pile. Dese are te results ob observation, Lafayette, and may be depended on, and it's for your good I say it." "Vy, father," said young hopeful, "vot a 'normous 'xperience you must a had!"

The First Marriage.--110.

We like short courtships, and in this Adam acted like a sensible man. He fell asleep a bachelor, and awoke to find himself a married man. He appeared to have popped the question almost immediately after meeting Mademoiselle Eve, and she without any flirtation or shyness, gave him a kiss and herself. Of this first event in the world, we have however, our thoughts, and sometimes in a poetical mood have wished that we were the man that did it. But the deed is done. The chance was Adam's and he improved it. We like the notion of getting married in a garden; it is a good taste. We like a private wedding--Adam's was private. No envious beaux were there; no croaking old maids; no chattering aunts and grumbling grandmothers. The birds of heaven were the minstrels, and the glad sky flung its light upon the scene. One thing about the wedding brings queer thoughts to us spite of scriptural truth. Adam and his wife were rather young to be married--some two or three days old, according to the sagest speculations of theologians; mere babies--larger, but no older; without experience, without a house, without a pot or kettle--nothing but love and Eden.

Novel Commentary By A Parson.--111.

A minister at a camp meeting was delivering a discourse on pride, and, in cautioning the ladies against it, he said: "And you, dear sisters, may perhaps feel proud that our Lord paid you the distinguished honour of appearing first to one of you after the resurrection; but you have no reason for it, as it was undoubtedly done that the glad tidings might spread sooner."

Lobster Salad.--112.

In a lecture at Portland, Maine, the lecturer, wishing to explain to a little girl the manner in which a lobster casts his shell when he has outgrown it, said: "What do you do when you have outgrown your clothes? You cast them aside, do you not?" "Oh, no!" replied the little one, "we let out the tucks!" The lecturer confessed she had the advantage of him there.

Couldn'T Help It, In Fact.--113.

A grand jury down South ignored a bill against a negro for stealing chickens, and before discharging him from custody, the judge bade him stand reprimanded, and he concluded thus:--"You may go now, John, but let me warn you never to appear here again." John, with delight beaming in his eyes, and a broad grin, displaying a beautiful row of ivory, replied: "I wouldn't been here dis time, Judge, only de constable fotch me."

After Joining Church.--114.

Uncle Sam had a neighbour who was in the habit of working on Sunday, but after a while he joined the church. One day he met the minister to whose church he belonged. "Well, Uncle Sam," said he, "do you see any difference in Mr. P. since he joined the church?" "Oh, yes," said Uncle Sam, "a great difference. Before, when he went out to mend his fences on Sunday, he carried his axe on his shoulder, but now he carries it under his over-coat."

Remarkable Dream.--115.

A bashful youth was paying his addresses to a gay lass of the country, who had long despaired of bringing things to a crisis. Youth called one day when she was alone at home. After settling the merits of the weather, Miss said, looking slyly into his face, "I dreamed of you last night," "Did you? Why, now." "Yes, I dreamed you kissed me!" "Why, now, what did you dream your mother said?" "Oh, I dreamed she wasn't at home." A light dawned on Youth's intellect, and directly something was heard to crack.

The Nest Egg.--116.

Some friends of ours in Ohio have a little boy about six years old, and a little girl about four. They had been cautioned in their morning strife after hens' eggs not to take away the nest egg; but one morning the little girl reached the nest first, seized an egg, and started for the house. Her disappointed brother followed, crying, "Mother, mother! Suzy, she's been and got the egg the old hen measures by!"

Wouldn'T You Like To Know? By J. G. Saxe.--117.

I know a girl with teeth of pearl And shoulders white as snow; She lives--ah! well, I must not tell-- Wouldn't you like to know?

Her sunny hair is wondrous fair, And wavy in its flow. Who made it less One little tress-- Wouldn't you like to know?

Her eyes are blue (celestial hue) And dazzling in their glow. On whom they beam With melting gleam-- Wouldn't you like to know?

Her lips are red and finely wed, Like roses ere they blow. What lover sips Those dewy lips-- Wouldn't you like to know?

Her fingers are like lilies fair, When lilies fairest grow. Whose hand they press With fond caress-- Wouldn't you like to know?

Her foot is small, and has a fall Like snow-flakes on the snow. And where it goes Beneath the rose-- Wouldn't you like to know?

She has a name, the sweetest name That language can bestow. 'Twould break the spell If I should tell-- Wouldn't you like to know?

Woman-Ology.--118.

We (_Home Journal_) wish to be learned in the subtle science of the softer sex. We aspire to know, at least, what it is that makes woman so adorable as magnetism pronounces her to be, and we have seen nothing so tributary to this science as an article in "Once a Month," entitled "The Good that hath been said of Woman." From the pleasant little periodical we speak of (edited by a younger brother of our own), we quote thus largely:--"One day the Fairy Blue descended upon earth with the courteous intention of distributing to all her daughters, inhabitants of different lands, the treasures and favours she brought with her. Her dwarf, Amaranth, sounded his horn, and immediately a young girl of each nation presented herself at the foot of the throne of Fairy Blue. This happened a long time before the revolution of July, 1830. The good Fairy Blue said to all her friends: 'I desire that none of you shall have to complain of the gift I am about to make you. It is not in my power to give each of you the same thing; but such want of uniformity in my largesses, should that deprive them of all merit?' As time is precious to the fairies, they say but little. Fairy Blue here finished her speech, and commenced the distribution of her gifts. She gave to the young girl who represented the Castiles, hair so black and so long that she could make a mantilla of it. To the Italian girl she gave eyes, sparkling and brilliant as an eruption of Vesuvius at midnight. To the Turkish, an _embonpoint_ round as the moon, and soft as eider-down. To the English, an aurora-borealis, to tint her cheeks, her lips, her shoulders. To the German, such teeth as she had herself, and what is not worth less than pretty teeth, but which has its price, a feeling heart, and one profoundly disposed to love. To the Russian girl she gave the distinction of a queen. Then, passing to detail, she placed gaiety upon the lips of a Neapolitan girl, wit in the head of an Irish, good sense in the heart of a Flemish; and when she had no more to give, she prepared to take her flight. 'And I?' said the Parisian girl, retaining her by her blue tunic. 'I had forgotten you.' 'Entirely forgotten, Madam?' 'You were too near me, and I did not perceive you. But what can I do now? The bag of gifts is exhausted.'"

Ole Harry And Ole Nick.--119.

When Nicholas Biddle, familiarly called Nick Biddle, was connected with the United States Bank, there was an old negro named Harry, who used to be loafing about the premises. One day, in a social mood, Biddle said to the darkey, "Well, what is your name, my old friend?" "Harry, sir--ole Harry," said the other, touching his seedy hat. "Old Harry," said Biddle; "why, that is the name they give to the devil, is it not?" "Yes, sir," said the coloured gentleman; "sometimes ole Harry and sometimes ole Nick."

Western Obituary Notice.--120.

Mister Edatur,--Jem bangs, we are sorry to stait, has desized. He departed this Life last mundy. Jem was generally considered a gud feller. He died at the age of 23 years old. He went 4th without any struggle; and sich is Life. Tu Day we are as pepper grass, mighty smart, to-Murrer we are cut down like a cowcumber of the ground. Jem kept a nice stoar, which his wife now waits on. His virchews was numerous to behold. Many is the things we bot at his grocerry, and we are happy to stait to the admirin world that he never cheeted, especially in the wate of markrel, which was nice and sweet, and his surviving wife is the same wa. We never knew him to put sand in his sugar, tho he had a big sand bar in front of his hous; nor water in his Lickuris, tho the Ohio River runs past his dore. Pece to his remaines. He leves a wife, 8 children, a cow, 4 horses, a grocerry stoar, and quadrupets, to mourn his loss; but, in the spalendid language of the poit, his loss is there eternal gane.

Putting Forward His Creed.--121.

The gentleman who edits the _Kentucky Rifle_, having been taken to task by a lady correspondent as to what constituted his particular faith, thus puts forward his creed:--"We believe that Mrs. Zebedee was a nice woman and that Mr. Zebedee was the father of his own children. We believe that guano and lime mixed together will make splendid hartshorn. It is our opinion that a donkey's kick and editing a newspaper are two of the hardest things in creation. We believe that getting 'tight' loosens the morals, but we shall always contend that it is cheaper in the long run to try the experiment with good whisky than with a mean article. We believe that a man who can be kept awake six nights in the week with jumping toothache, and be 'roused' by a squalling baby just as he has fallen into a doze on the seventh night, without getting mad or wondering why babies and toothache were invented, is a greater philosopher than Newton, and a greater hero than Leonidas and all his Spartans put together. We believe that a man is not likely to be sick so often if he pays his physician by the year as if he pays him by the visit. We believe that every well-regulated family ought always to have one baby in it, just for the fun of the thing. We believe that the man who invented tallow candles must have been too poor to afford pine-knots. It is our opinion that if a number of gentlemen are sitting together talking sensibly upon some subject, and a lady enters, they will immediately commence talking foolishly and keep it up until she makes her exit. We believe they do so by way of complimentary condescension to female weakness."

Not So.--122.

Many proverbs admit of contradiction, as witness the following:--"The more the merrier." Not so--one hand is enough in a purse. "Nothing but what has an end." Not so--a ring has none, for it is round. "Money is a great comfort." Not when it brings a thief to the gallows. "The world is a long journey." Not so--the sun goes over it in a day. "It is a great way to the bottom of the sea." Not so--it is but a stone's cast. "A friend is best found in adversity." Not so--for then there is none to be found. "The pride of the rich makes the labour of the poor." Not so--the labour of the poor makes the pride of the rich.

The Ohio Democracy.--123.

The _Cincinnati Commercial_, in a report of a Vallandigham meeting at Carthage, Ohio, sets down what it calls "the barometrical register" of the meeting as follows:--"Nine a.m.--Invitations to drink are freely offered and accepted. Ten a.m.--Sober, but drinking. Eleven a.m.--Noisy and demonstrative; liquor becoming effective. Twelve a.m.--Generally 'tight;' pugnacity rising. One p.m.--Rather drunk; fights freely offered. Two p.m.--Quite drunk; black eyes in abundance--holders not very firm. Three p.m.--Very drunk; hacks and furniture-cars in demand. Four p.m.--D--cidedly drunk; too far gone to fight."

A Nice Girl.--124.

There is nothing half so sweet in life--half so beautiful, or delightful, or so loveable--as a "nice girl." Not a pretty, or a dashing, or an elegant girl, but a _nice_ girl. One of those lovely, lively, good-tempered, good-hearted, sweet-faced, amiable, neat, happy, domestic creatures met within the sphere of home, diffusing around the domestic hearth the influence of her goodness like the essence of sweet flowers. A nice girl is not the languishing beauty, dawdling on a sofa, and discussing the last novel or opera; or the giraffe-like creature sweeping majestically through a drawing-room. The nice girl may not even dance or play well, and knows nothing about "using her eyes," or coquetting with a fan. She is not given to sensation novels--she is too busy. At the opera, she is not in front showing her bare shoulders, but sits quietly and unobtrusively--at the back of the box most likely. In fact, it is not often in such scenes we discover her. Home is her place. Who rises betimes, and superintends the morning meal? Who makes the toast and the tea, and buttons the boys' shirts, and waters the flowers, and feeds the chickens, and brightens up the parlour and sitting-room? Is it the languisher, or the giraffe, or the _élégante_? Not a bit of it--it's the nice girl. Her unmade toilet is made in the shortest possible time; yet how charmingly it is done, and how elegant her neat dress and plain colour! What kisses she distributes among the family! No presenting a cheek or a brow, like a "fine girl," but an audible smack, which says plainly, "I love you ever so much." If I ever coveted anything, it is one of the nice girl's kisses. Breakfast over, down in the kitchen to see about dinner; always cheerful and light-hearted. She never ceases to be active and useful until the day is done, when she will polka with the boys, and sing old songs, and play old tunes to her father for hours together. She is a perfect treasure, is the "nice girl," when illness comes; it is she that attends with unwearying patience to the sick chamber. There is no risk, no fatigue that she will not undergo, no sacrifice that she will not make. She is all love, all devotion. I have often thought it would be happiness to be ill, to be watched by such loving eyes and tended by such fair hands. One of the most strongly marked characteristics of a "nice girl" is tidiness and simplicity of dress. She is ever associated in my mind with a high frock, plain collar, and the neatest of neck-ribbons, bound with the most modest little brooch in the world. I never knew a "nice girl" who displayed a profusion of rings and bracelets, or who wore low dresses or a splendid bonnet. I say again, there is nothing in the world half so beautiful, half so intrinsically good, as a "nice girl." She is the sweetest flower in the path of life. There are others far more stately, far more gorgeous, but these we merely admire as we go by. It is where the daisy grows that we lie down to rest.

A Reason For Dear Cream.--125.

The _Boston Post_ says that the reason why cream is so dear is, that milk has risen so high the cream can't reach the top.

Advice To Parents.--126.

Rear up your lads like nails, and then they'll not only go through the world, but you may clench 'em on to the other side.

Extraordinary Crow.--127.

A native of Kentucky imitates the crowing of a cock so remarkably well, that the sun, upon several occasions, has risen two hours earlier by mistake.

Logs Wanted.--128.

The printer of the _Western Gazette_ lately published the following notice:--"Dry stove wood wanted immediately at this office, in exchange for papers. N.B. Don't bring logs that the _Devil_ can't split."

Look On This Picture And On This.--129.

_Matrimony._--Hot buckwheat cake--comfortable slippers--smoking coffee--buttons--redeemed stockings--boot-jacks--happiness. _Bachelorhood._--Sheet-iron quilts--blue noses--frosty rooms--ice in the pitcher--unregenerated linen--heelless stockings--coffee sweetened with icicles--gutta-percha biscuits--flabby steaks--dull razors--corns--coughs and colics--rhubarb--aloes--misery.

Absence Of Mind.--130.

A Mr. Jaber J. Jenkinson, of Arkansas, whose sight is such as to render glasses necessary, put his spectacles on his ear instead of his eyes, one day last week, and actually walked three miles sideways in a heavy rain before he discovered his mistake.

Domestic Economy.--131.

The _Boston Herald_ has the following infallible recipe:--"To make pie: Play at blind man's buff in a printing-office. To have music at dinner: Tell your wife she is not so handsome as the lady who lives over the way. To save butter: Make it so salt that nobody can eat it."

Tall Relations.--132.

The wit deservedly won his bet who, in a company when every one was bragging of his tall relations, wagered that he himself had a brother twelve feet high. He had, he said, "two half-brothers, each measuring six feet."

We Wonder, Too.--133.

A little boy once said to his aunt, "Aunty, I should think that Satan must be an awful trouble to God." "He must be troubled enough, indeed, I should think," she answered. "I don't see how he came to turn out so, when there _was no devil to put him up to it_."

Inflammable And Dangerous.--134.

Judge Beeler put a notice over his factory-gate at Lowell: "No cigars or Irishmen admitted within these walls; for," says he, "the one will set a flame agoin' among my cotton, and t'other among my gals. I won't have no such inflammable and dangerous things about me on no account."

A Rare Printer.--135.

A western paper contains the following advertisement:--"Wants a situation, a practical printer, who is competent to take charge of any department in a printing and publishing house. Would accept a professorship in any of the academies. Has no objection to teach ornamental painting and penmanship, geometry, trigonometry, and many other sciences. Is particularly suited to act as pastor to a small Evangelical church, or as a local preacher. He would have no objection to form a small but select class of interesting young ladies, to instruct in the highest branches. To a dentist or chiropodist he would be invaluable, as he can do almost anything. Would board with a family, if decidedly pious."

Something Like A Good Shot.--136.

Two passengers coming down the Mississippi in a steamboat were amusing themselves with shooting birds on the shore from the deck. Some sporting conversation ensued; one remarked that he would turn his back to no man in killing racoons--that he had repeatedly shot fifty a day. "What o' that?" said a Kentuckian; "I make nothing of killing a hundred 'coon a day, or'nary luck." "Do you know Captain Scott, of our State?" asked a Tennessean bystander; "he, now, is something like a shot. A hundred 'coon! why he never points at one without hitting him. He never misses, and the 'coons know it. T'other day he levelled at an old 'un, in a high tree; the varmint looked at him a minute, and then bawled out, 'Hallo, Cap'n Scott, is that you?' 'Yes,' was the reply. 'Well, pray don't shoot, I'll come down to you--I'll give in--I'm dead beat.'"

Absence Of Mind.--137.

A highly respectable inhabitant in the city of New York lately died under very remarkable circumstances. He was subject to fits of extreme absence of mind from childhood; and one night, upon retiring to rest, having carefully tucked his pantaloons under the bed-clothes, he threw himself over the back of a chair, and expired from the severe cold he experienced during the night. The editor of the _New York Herald_, who relates this extraordinary fact, assures his readers, as a guarantee of its truth, that he received his information from the individual in question.

A Remarkable Man.--138.

There is a man in the West who is described as being so remarkably tall that he requires a ladder to shave himself! The same individual never troubles his servant to sit up for him when he is out late at night, for he can, with the most perfect ease, put his arm down the chimney and unbolt the street-door.

Spectacles And Bible Reading.--139.

The will of Elias Boudinot, of New Jersey, has just been proved. It contains the following clause:--"I give to the president and managers of the New Jersey Bible Society 200 dollars, to be laid out in the purchase of spectacles, to be given by them to the poor old people; it being in vain to give a Bible to those who cannot obtain the means of reading it."

To The Point.--140.

An officer who was inspecting his company one morning spied one private whose shirt was sadly begrimed. "Patrick O'Flynn!" called out the captain. "Here, yer honour!" promptly responded Patrick, with his hand to his cap. "How long do you wear a shirt?" thundered the officer. "Twenty-eight inches," was the rejoinder.

Extraordinary Motto.--141.

The _New York Herald_ has the following for its motto:--"Take no shin-plasters (all damned rogues who issue them), live temperately, drink moderately, eschew temperance societies, take care of the sixpences, never hurt a saint, go to bed at ten, rise at six, never buy on credit, fear God Almighty, love the beautiful girls, vote against Van Buren, and kick all politicians and parsons to the devil."

Excessive Politeness.--142.

A Californian poet gives the following lesson on politeness to the youth of the Golden State:--

"Indeed, my friends, far better it would seem, Were you to choose the opposite extreme; Like one 'Down East' who an umbrella took, And from the rain gave shelter to a duck; Who to a limping dog once lent his arm, And to a setting hen said, 'Don't rise, ma'am;' Nor e'er to lifeless things respect did lack-- Said always to a chair, 'Excuse my back;' 'Excuse my curiosity,' he said to books; And to the looking-glass, 'Excuse my looks.'"

"A Shell In De Stove."--143.

The _New York Herald's_ Morris Island correspondent relates as follows an incident of the operations at Charleston:--Quite an uproar was occasioned in the rear of the _Herald's_ tent here yesterday. General Terry, whose head-quarters adjoin those of your correspondent, has a sable cook, who wanted some lead for his fishing-tackle, and undertook to melt some from the outside of a ten-pound Parrot shell, which he discovered lying about the camp. Placing the projectile in a stove, and seating himself where he could catch the molten metal in a shovel as it fell, he soon had the satisfaction of seeing one of the most startling views ever brought to his vision. The shell exploded, and besides blowing the stove and cookhouse to atoms, inflicted serious wounds upon the darkey. My servant, a contraband from Beaufort, gave vent to the universal sentiment, while he was surveying the wreck which the explosion occasioned, and from which we so narrowly escaped, in the following sage remark:--"De dam ole fool, come clar gown yere f'm Bos'n an' put a shell in de stove!" If General Terry's niggers continue to obtain their "sinkers" in this manner, you may expect to hear that the _Herald's_ head-quarters have been removed.

Diamond Cut Diamond.--144.

In New York, a quick-witted toper went into a bar-room and called for something to drink. "We don't sell liquor," said the law-evading landlord; "we will give you a glass, and then if you want a cracker (a biscuit) we'll sell it you for three cents." The "good creature" was handed down, and our hero took a stiff horn; when, turning round to depart, the unsuspecting landlord handed him the dish of crackers, with the remark, "You'll buy a cracker?" "Well, no, I guess not; you sell 'em too dear. I can get lots on 'm five or six for a cent anywhere else."

Editorial Tribulations.--145.

The editor of the _American Mechanic_ has encountered trials unknown to ordinary men. Just hearken unto his wailings:--"Owing to the fact that our paper-maker disappointed us, the failure of the mails deprived us of our exchanges, a Dutch pedlar stole our scissors, the rats ran off with the paste, and the devils went to the circus, while the editor was at home tending the baby, our paper is unavoidably postponed beyond the period of its publication."

Sambo And Cuffee.--146.

Varnum S. Mills, of this city, tells a story illustrative of the simplicity of Virginia niggers. He was visiting a friend in the Old Dominion, who owns many slaves, among whom were two, named Sambo and Cuffee, who seemed to be mortal enemies. Sambo was a favourite with the master, who one day said to him: "Sambo, you have always been a good nigger, and when you die you shall have a funeral. My family will all attend, and all the niggers shall be present, and Cuffee shall be a pall-bearer." The darkey looked his master in the face with the simplicity of a soft clam when dug out of the mud at low tide, and indignantly responded: "Massa, if Cuffee comes to de funeril, I won't go to the grabe." It apparently did not occur to Sambo that he should be "conveyed" thither.

An Ode On Gas.--147.

A country town having been recently lighted with gas, the local editor electrifies the community with an ode:

"Luminous blaze! I never seen the like in all my born days! Tallow candles ain't no mor'n tar When you're about; And spirit lamps is no whar, Bein clean dun out.

"Sparkling lite! I think I never seen anything half so brite; Everything is amazing clear; The hidjus glume Is defunct; and every cheer Is apparient in the rume!

"Gloryous halo! Your skintelashuns make a surprising display; You don't need no snuffers, But you are just scrude out; When you are squenched by puffers, Ojus fumes aryse.

"Brillyant flame! The nites was next to darkness when you came; But candles has vanisht Before you, and lard oil gone to grass; Every greasy nuisance has been banisht-- Hurraw for Gass!"

Curiosities Of American Speech.--148.

In a book on Americanisms, published last year, a Baltimore young lady is represented as jumping up from her seat, on being asked to dance, and saying, "Yes, sirree: for I have sot, and sot, and sot, till I've nigh tuk root!" I cannot say I have heard anything quite equal to this; but I very well remember that at a party given on board one of the ships at Esquimault, a young lady declined to dance a "fancy" dance upon the plea, "I'd rather not, sir. I guess I'm not _fixed up_ for waltzing;" an expression the peculiar meaning of which must be left to readers of her own sex to decide. An English young lady who was staying at one of the houses at Mare Island when we were there, happened one evening, when we were visiting her friends, to be confined to her room with a headache. Upon our arrival, the young daughter of our host--a girl of bout twelve--went up to her to try to persuade her to come down. "Well," she said, "I'm _real_ sorry you're so poorly. You'd better come, for there are some almighty swells down there!" A lady speaking of the same person, said, "Her hair, sir, took my fancy right away!" Again, several of us were one day talking to a tall, slight young lady about the then new-fashioned crinoline which she was wearing. After a little banter, she said, "I guess, captain, if you were to take my hoops off you might draw me through the eye of a needle!" Perhaps one of the most whimsical of these curiosities of expression, combining freedom of manner with that of speech, was made use of to Captain Richards by a master-caulker. He had been vainly endeavouring to persuade the captain that the ship required caulking; and at last he said in disgust, "You may be liberal as a private citizen, captain, but you're mean to an almighty pump-tack!"--in his official capacity of course. Again, an American gentleman on board of one of our mail-packets was trying to recall to the recollection of the mail-agent a lady who had been fellow-passenger with them on a former occasion. "She sat opposite you at table all the voyage," he said. "Oh, I think I remember her; she ate a great deal, did she not?" "Eat, sir!" was the reply; "she was a perfect gastronomic fillibuster!" One more example and I have done with a subject upon which I might enlarge for pages. The boys at the school at Victoria were being examined in Scripture, and the question was asked, "In what way did Hiram assist Solomon in the building of the temple?" It passed two or three boys, when at last one sharp little fellow triumphantly exclaimed, "Please, sir, he _donated_ him the lumber."

Very Likely.--149.

"From Camden to Bletchly, a distance of forty miles I travelled along with Mrs. Greaves. She was a sweet and interesting woman--so sweet and interesting that, fastidious as I am on the subject, I believe I would have been willing to have kissed her. I had, however, several reasons for not perpetrating this act. First, I am such a good husband I wouldn't even be guilty of the appearance of disloyalty to my sweet wife. Second, I was afraid our fellow-passengers would see me and tell Greaves. Third, I do not think Mrs. G. would let me."

Curious Event.--150.

A diffident Hartford bachelor went to the sea-shore in August to seek refuge from the loneliness of his celibacy, and one dark evening, enjoying the breeze on the piazza of his hotel, happened to take a seat that had just been vacated by the husband of a loving wife, with whom the happy man had been chatting. In a few moments the lady returned, and, mistaking the stranger for her husband, lovingly encircled his neck and gave him an affectionate kiss, with the remark, "Come, darling, is it not about time to retire?" He did not faint, but the shock was very severe.

Hot Pies.--151.

One freezing February morning a negro hawked mutton pies in a basket around Faneuil Hall Square, roaring out, "Hot mutton pies!" "Hot mutton pies!" A teamster bought and tried to bite one, but found it frozen as solid as the curb-stone. "What do you call them hot for, you black and blue swindler?" yelled the teamster to the shivering pieman. "Wy, wy, a white man guv 'em to me hot dis mornin'. Dey was hot wen I got 'em dis mornin'!" "Well, you fool, it didn't take ten minutes to freeze them in that old basket. Why call them hot now?" "Wy, bless you, dats de name ob 'em--de name ob 'em! If I didn't holler de right name nobody would tetch 'em. You want me to holler froze pies, I suppose! No, sa; you can't fool me dat way!"

A Mighty Thick Fog.--152.

A rather loquacious individual was endeavouring to draw an old man into conversation, but hitherto without much success, the old fellow having sufficient discernment to see that his object was to make a little sport for the passengers at his expense. At length says loquacious individual: "I suppose you consider Down East a right smart place; but I guess it would puzzle them to get up quite so thick a fog as we are having here this morning, wouldn't it?" "Well," said the old man, "I don't know about that. I hired one of your Massachusetts chaps to work for me last summer, and one rather foggy mornin' I sent him down to the meadow to lay a few courses of shingle on a new barn I was finishin' off. At dinner-time the fellow came up, and, sez he, 'That's an almighty long barn of yourn.' Sez I, 'Not very long.' 'Well,' sez he, 'I've been to work all this forenoon, and haven't got one course laid yet.' 'Well,' sez I, 'you're a lazy fellow, that's all I've got to say.' And so after dinner I went down to see what he'd been about, and I'll be thundered ef he hadn't shingled more than a hundred foot _right out on to the fog_."

Whiskers And Kisses.--153.

The editress of the _Lancaster Literary Gazette_ says she would as soon nestle her nose in a rat's nest of swingle tow as allow a man with whiskers on to kiss her. We (_Petersburg Express_) don't believe a word of it. The objections which some ladies pretend to have to whiskers all arise from envy. They don't have any. They would if they could; but the fact is, the continual motion of the lower jaw is fatal to their growth. The ladies--God bless them!--adopt our fashion as far as they can. Look at the depredations they have committed on our wardrobes the last few years. They have appropriated our shirt-bosoms, gold studs and all. They have encircled their soft bewitching necks in our standing collars and cravats--driving them to flatties and turn-downs. Their innocent little hearts have been palpitating in the inside of our waistcoats, instead of thumping against the outside, as naturally intended. They have thrust their pretty feet and ankles through our unmentionables, unwhisperables, unthinkaboutables; and they are skipping along the streets in our high-heeled boots. Do you hear, gentlemen?--we say boots!

Littles.--154.

Everything is beautiful when it is little (except souls!)--little pigs, little lambs, little birds, little kittens, little children. Little Martin boxes of houses are generally the most happy and cozy; little villages are nearer to being atoms of a shattered paradise than anything we know of. Little fortunes bring the most content, and little hopes the least disappointment. Little words are the sweetest to hear, and little charities fly furthest and stay the longest on the wing. Little lakes are the stillest, little hearts the fullest, and little farms the best tilled. Little books the most read, and little songs the best loved. And when Nature would make anything especially rare and beautiful, she makes it little--little pearls, little diamonds, little dews. Agar's is a model prayer, but then it is a little prayer, and the burden of the petition is for little. The Sermon on the Mount is little, but the last dedication discourse was two hours. The Roman said, "_Veni, vidi, vici_"--I came, saw, conquered; but despatches now-a-days are longer than the battles they tell of. Everybody calls that little which they love best upon earth. We once heard a good sort of a man speak of his little wife, and we fancied she must be a perfect _bijou_ of a woman. We saw her; she weighed two hundred and ten; we were surprised. But then it was no joke--the man meant it. He could put his wife in his heart, and have room for other things besides; and what was she but precious, and what could she be but little? We rather doubt the stories of great argosies of gold we sometimes hear of, for Nature deals in littles altogether. Life is made up of littles, death is what remains of them all. Day is made up of little beams, and night is glorious with little stars. _Multum in parvo_--much in little--is the great beauty of all that we love best, hope for most, and remember longest.

Speaking His Deep Emotions.--155.

"My dear Ellen," said Mr. Softfellow to a young lady whose smiles he was seeking, "I have long wished for this sweet opportunity, but I hardly dare trust myself now to speak the deep emotions of my palpitating heart; but I declare to you, my dearest Ellen, that I love you most tenderly; your smiles would shed--would shed----" "Never mind the wood-shed," said Ellen, "go on with that pretty talk."

Spiritualism Extraordinary.--156.

An enthusiastic spiritualist, when relating to a sceptic certain spiritual performances to which he could testify, said that on one occasion the spirit of his wife, who had been dead several years, returned to him, and, seating herself on his knee, put her arms around him and kissed him, much to his gratification, as she used to do when living. "You do not mean to say," remarked the sceptic, "that the spirit of your wife really embraced you and kissed you?" "No, not exactly that," replied the believer; "but her spirit took possession of the female medium--the future Mrs. B---- that is to be, you know--and through her embraced and kissed me."

Milwaukee Eloquence.--157.

Western eloquence continues to improve. A Wisconsin reporter sends the following sketch. A lawyer in Milwaukee was defending a handsome young woman accused of stealing from a large unoccupied dwelling in the night-time, and thus he spake in conclusion:--"Gentlemen of the jury, I am done. When I gaze with enraptured eyes on the matchless beauty of this peerless virgin, on whose resplendent charms suspicion never dared to breathe; when I behold her radiant in this glorious bloom of lustrous loveliness, which angelic sweetness might envy but could not eclipse--before which the star on the brow of Night grows pale, and the diamonds of Brazil are dim--and then reflect upon the utter madness and folly of supposing that so much beauty would expose itself to the terrors of an empty building in the cold, damp, dead of night, when innocence like hers is hiding itself amidst the snowy pillows of repose; gentlemen of the jury, my feelings are too overpowering for expression, and I throw her into your arms for protection against this foul charge, which the outrageous malice of a disappointed scoundrel has invented, to blast the fair name of this lovely maiden, whose smile shall be the reward of the verdict which I know you will give."

Heavy Top-Dressing.--158.

"It's all very pretty talk," said a recently married old bachelor, who had just finished reading an essay on the "Culture of Women," just as a heavy milliner's bill was presented to him--"it's all very pretty, this cultivation of women; but such a charge as this for bonnets is rather a heavy top-dressing--in my judgment."

Hairs, Not Bristles.--159.

"I am willing to split hairs with my opponent all day if he insists on it," said a very distinguished American lawyer the other day, in a speech at the bar. "Split _that_ then," said the opponent, pulling a coarse specimen from his own head, and extending it. "May it please the court, I didn't say _bristles_!"

Antediluvian Diet.--160.

A friend thinks the antediluvian life must have been a great contrast to ours, and pictures it thus:--"Only fancy having two dried whales hanging in your larder, and a cold mammoth 'cut and come again' on the sideboard. 'Shall I help you to a bit of Icthoyaturns?' 'Thank you, I should prefer a slice of your Mastadon.' Stewed Plesiosauri! Leviathan _à la crapoderie_! Imagine a bill, not at twelve months, but at two hundred years; and a fellow who carried off your plate-box getting sent to the treadmill for fourscore summers! Consider an elderly gentleman, with a liver complaint of only one hundred years' standing, wearing out four sets of false teeth, and finally carried off, after a brief illness of three hundred and ten years, in a galloping consumption!"

Jimmy O'Neil And President Jackson.--161.

When Jackson was President, Jimmy O'Neil, the porter, was a marked character. He had his foibles, which were offensive to the fastidiousness of Colonel Donelson, and caused his dismissal on an average of about once a week. But on appeal to the higher court, the verdict was invariably reversed by the good nature of the old general. Once, however, Jimmy was guilty of some flagrant offence, and was summoned before the highest tribunal at once. The general, after stating the details of the misdeed, observed, "Jimmy, I have borne with you for years, in spite of all complaints; but in this act you have gone beyond my powers of endurance." "And do you believe the story?" asked Jimmy. "Certainly," answered the general: "I have just heard it from two senators." "Faith," retorted Jimmy, "if I believe all that twenty senators say about you it's little I'd think you are fit to be President." "Pshaw! Jimmy," concluded the general; "clear out and go on duty, but be more careful hereafter." Jimmy remained with his kind-hearted patron not only to the close of his presidential term, but, accompanying him to the Hermitage, was with him to the day of his death.

The Origin Of "Some Punkin."--162.

An old lady was engaged in making pumpkin pies; she had got the pumpkin all prepared, when by an untoward accident the table was overturned, and the pumpkin went on to the floor. The table in overturning overset the slop-pail, and the slops went on the floor too. The old lady being of a saving disposition, concluded to save the pumpkin and clean up also; so she takes up one handful, looks at it--"That's punkin"--puts it into the pumpkin-dish; takes up another--"That's slops"--puts it into the slop-pail. So she goes on picking up alternately pumpkin and slops, till finally she gets a handful mixed. She looks at it, and says, "That is _some punkin_, but mostly slops!" and hence the phrase.

Artemus Ward On The Negro.--163.

Feller Sittersuns,--The African may be our brother. Severil hily rispectable gentlemen and some talented females tell us so, and for argyment sake i might be injooced to grant it, tho' I don't beleeve it myself. But the African isn't our sister, and wife, and unkle. He isn't severil of our brothers and fust wife's relashuns. He isn't our grandfather and grate grandfather, and our aunt in the country. Scarcely: And yet numeris persons would have us think. It's troo he runs Congress and severil others grossery's, but he ain't everybody. But we've got the African, or ruther he's got us, and how are we going to do about it? He's a orful noosance. P'raps he isn't to blame for it. P'raps he was created for some wise purpis, like the measles and New England rum, but it's mity hard to see it. At any rate here, and as I stated to Mr. What-is-it, it's a pity he coodent go off somewheres quietly by hisself, where he cood wear red weskits and speckled necties, and gratefy his ambition in varis interestin wayse, without havin a eternal fuss up about him. P'raps I'm bearing down too hard on Cuffy.

A Quaker'S Excuse For Firing.--164.

A good story is told of a Quaker volunteer, who was in a Virginia skirmish. Coming in pretty close quarters with a Secessionist, he remarked: "Friend, 'tis very unfortunate, but thee standest just where I am going to shoot;" and, blazing away, down came his man.

Brother Of Four Million Children.--165.

A Kansas woman, named Million, was lately married, and by her marriage the bride becomes sister to her father and mother and aunt to her brothers and sisters. The groom becomes son of a younger brother, his sister-in-law becomes his mother, and he becomes the brother of four "Million" children. What relation were said parties previous to their marriage?

Suspecting The Shell.--166.

When the mine dug under Fort Hill, at Vicksburg, by General Logan, exploded, June 26th, a large number of rebels were killed and wounded. Among others who were blown high above the works was an American citizen of African descent, who fell on his head on the outside of the rebel fort, and to the astonishment of our soldiers was not killed. As some of the men ran towards the darkey, of course carrying their arms, he rose to his feet, and shouted, "For de Lord's sake, sogers, don't shoot dis nigger. I wasn't doin' no fighting; I was only totin' up grub." When asked how high he had been, he replied, "Two or dree mile, I reckon;" and on being asked how he came within our lines said, "Dunno, massa; shell, I spec."

A Smart Railway Employé.--167.

A railroad _employé_, whose home is in Avon, came on Saturday night to ask for a pass down to visit his family. "You are in employ of the railroad?" asked the gentleman applied to. "Yes." "You receive your pay regularly?" "Yes." "Well, now suppose you were working for a farmer instead of a railroad, would you expect your employer to hitch up his team every Saturday night, and carry you home?" This seemed a poser, but it wasn't. "No," said the man, promptly, "I wouldn't expect that; but if the farmer had his team hitched up, and was going my way, I should call him a darned mean cuss if he would not let me ride." Mr. _Employé_ came out three minutes afterwards with a pass good for twelve months.

The Late Floyd.--168.

A gifted poet has perpetrated the following epitaph on the late Floyd:--

"Floyd has died and few have sobb'd, Since, had he lived, all had been robb'd; He's paid Dame Nature's debt, 'tis said-- The only one he ever paid. Some doubt that he resign'd his breath; But vow that he has cheated even death. If he is buried, oh! then, ye dead beware; Look to your swaddlings, of your shrouds take care. Lest Floyd should to your coffins make his way, And steal the linen from your mould'ring clay."

A Vegetable Head.--169.

The late Judge Peters has left behind him a host of well-remembered puns worth relating. When on the District Court Bench, he observed to Judge Washington that one of the witnesses had a _vegetable_ head. "How so?" was the inquiry. "He has _carroty_ hair, _reddish_ cheeks, a _turn-up_ nose, and a _sage_ look."

Objecting To Missions.--170.

A wag was lately asked to contribute to foreign missions. "Not on any account," said he. "Why not?" asked the collector, "the object is laudable." "No, it isn't," was the reply; "not half so many people go to the devil now as ought to."

His First Step.--171.

We extract the following from a popular story. It narrates the early experience of a bashful boy:--"Well, my sister Lib gave a party one night, and I stayed away from home because I was too bashful to face the music. I hung around the house, whistling 'Old Dan Tucker,' dancing to keep my feet warm, watching heads bobbing up and down behind the window-curtains, and wishing the thundering party would break up so I could get to my room. I smoked up a bunch of cigars, and as it was getting late and mighty uncomfortable, I concluded to climb up the door-post. No sooner said than done, and I found myself snug in bed. 'Now,' says I, 'let her rip! Dance till your wind is out!' And, cuddled under the quilts, Morpheus grabbed me. I was dreaming of soft-shelled crabs and stewed tripe, and having a good time, when somebody knocked at my room-door and woke me up. 'Rap,' again. I laid low. 'Rap, rap, rap!' Then I heard a whispering, and I knew there was a whole raft of girls outside. 'Rap, rap!' Then Lib sings out, 'Jack, are you in there?' 'Yes,' says I; and then came a roar of laughter. 'Let us in,' says she. 'I won't,' says I. Then came another laugh. By thunder, I began to get riled! 'Get out, you petticoated scarecrows!' I cried; 'can't you get a beau without hauling a fellow out of bed? I won't go home with you--I won't--so you may clear out!' And sending a boot at the door, I felt better. But presently--O mortal buttons!--I heard a still small voice, very like sister Lib's, and it said, 'Jack, you'll have to get up, for all the girls' things are in there!' Oh dear, what a pickle! Think of me in bed, all covered with shawls, muffs, bonnets, and cloaks, and twenty girls outside waiting to get in. As it was, I rolled out among the ribbons in a hurry. Smash went the millinery in every direction. I had to dress in the dark, and the way I fumbled about was death on straw hats. The critical moment at last came. I opened the door, and found myself right among the women! 'Oh, my Leghorn!' cries one. 'My dear winter velvet!' cries another. And they pinched in--they piled me this way and that--boxed my ears; and one little bright-eyed piece--Sal ----, her name was--put her arms right round my neck and kissed me right on my lips! Human nature couldn't stand that, and I gave her as good as she sent. It was the first time I had ever got a taste, and it was powerful good. I believe I could have kissed that gal from Julius Cæsar to the Fourth of July. 'Jack,' said she, 'we are sorry to disturb you, but won't you see me home?' 'Yes,' says I, 'I will.' I did do it, and had another smack at the gate, too. After that we took a kinder turtle-doving after each other, both of us sighing like a barrel of new cider when we were away from each other."

His Wife'S Cousin.--172.

A country gentleman lately arrived at Boston, and immediately repaired to the house of a relative, a lady who had married a merchant. The parties were glad to see him, and invited him to make their house his home, as he declared his intention of remaining in the city only a day or two. The husband of the lady, anxious to show his attention to a relative and friend of his wife, took the gentleman's horse to a livery stable in Hanover Street. Finally his visit became a visitation, and the merchant found, after the lapse of eleven days, besides lodging and boarding the gentleman, a pretty considerable bill had run up at the livery stable. Accordingly he went to the man who kept the livery stable, and told him when the gentleman took his horse he would pay the bill. "Very well," said the stable-keeper, "I understand you." Accordingly, in a short time the country gentleman went to the stable and ordered his horse to be got ready. The bill, of course, was presented to him. "Oh," said the gentleman, "Mr. ----, my relative, will pay this." "Very good," said the stable-keeper, "please get an order from Mr. ----; it will be the same as money." The horse was put up again, and down went the country gentleman to Long Wharf, which the merchant kept. "Well," said he, "I am going now." "Are you?" said the gentleman. "Well, good-bye, sir." "Well, about my horse; the man said the bill must be paid for his keeping." "Well, I suppose that is all right, sir." "Yes--well, but you know I'm your wife's cousin." "Yes," said the merchant, "I know you are, but your horse is not."

Yankee Toasts.--173.

The following toasts were given at a recent dinner of New Jersey Democrats:--"Blessed are the peacemakers." "The last man and the last dollar--May the one be an Abolitionist, and the other a shin-plaster, and may they both perish in the last ditch together." "State rights--May they not be forgotten in delirious and bloody triumph of State wrongs." "Things we remember--Habeas corpus and trial by jury." "To the first Governor who shall have the virtue and courage to keep his oath of office, and defend the constitution, laws, and sovereignty of his State, and the rights of its citizens." "The light of other days, when Liberty wore a white face, and America was not a negro." "The Democratic party, as it was, before cowardice, treachery, shoddy, and greenbacks had demoralized its councils." "The abolition war for disunion--Let those who think it is right go to it, and those who think it is wrong stay at home." "May those who say we shall never have the Union as it was follow the example of their brother traitor, Judas Iscariot, who died and went to his own place." "The war Democrat--A white man's face on the body of a negro." "The only possible remedy for secession and the only hope of the Union--Peace, mutual concession, and compromise."

A Big Puff.--174.

A model certificate is the following:--"Dear doctor,--I will be one hundred and seventy-five years old next October. For over eighty-four years I have been an invalid, unable to step except when moved by a lever. But a year ago I heard of the Granicular Syrup. I bought a bottle, smelt the cork, and found myself a man. I can now run twelve miles and a half an hour, and throw nineteen summersaults without stopping."

Very Odd That.--175.

A conversation took place during dinner at head-quarters at ----. A number of officers being present, the conversation turned upon the condition and efficiency of their different regiments. Colonel ----, of the New York ----, stated that nine different nations were represented in his regiment; and, after going over Irish, German, French, English, &c., several times, could enumerate but eight. He said he was certain there were nine, but what the ninth was he could not remember. Lieutenant ----, who was present, suggested "Americans." "By Jove!" says the colonel, "that's it--Americans."

How Ale Strengthened Him.--176.

A student of an American State College had a barrel of ale deposited in his room--contrary, of course, to the rule and usage. He received a summons to appear before the president, who said: "Sir, I am informed that you have a barrel of ale in your room." "Yes, sir." "Well, what explanation can you make?" "Why, the fact is, sir, my physician advises me to try a little each day as a tonic; and, not wishing to stop at the various places where the beverage is retailed, I concluded to have a barrel taken to my room." "Indeed! and have you derived any benefit from the use of it?" "Ah! yes, sir. When the barrel was first taken to my room I could scarcely lift it; now I can carry it with the greatest ease."

Luminous Evidence.--177.

"Johnson, you say Snow was de man dat robbed you?" "Yes." "Was it moonlight when it took place?" "No, siree." "Was it starlight?" "I, golly! no; it was so dark you couldn't see your hand afore your face." "Well, was there any light shining from any house near by?" "Why, no; there wasn't a house within a mile of us." "Well, then, if there was no moon, no starlight, no light from any house, and so dark you couldn't even see your hand before your face, how are you so positive that Mr. Snow was the man, and how did you see him?" "Why, Cuff, you see, when the nigger struck me, de fire flew out ob my eyes so bright, that you might see to pick up a pin."

Scipio'S Wife.--178.

Who was Scipio's wife? Missis-sippi-o, of course.

The Dying Soldier And His Mother.--179.

In one of the fierce engagements with the rebels near Mechanicsville, in May last, a young lieutenant of a Rhode Island battery had his right foot so shattered by a fragment of a shell that on reaching Washington he was obliged to undergo amputation of the leg. He telegraphed home, hundreds of miles away, that all was going well, and with a soldier's fortitude composed himself to bear his sufferings alone. Unknown to him, however, his mother, one of those dear reserves of the army, hastened up to join the main force. She reached the city at midnight, and the nurses would have kept her from him until the morning. One sat by his side fanning him as he slept, her hand on the feeble fluctuating pulsations which foreboded sad results. But what woman's heart could resist the pleadings of a mother then? In the darkness she was finally allowed to glide in and take the place at his side. She touched his pulse as the nurse had done, not a word had been spoken, but the sleeping boy opened his eyes and said, "That feels like my mother's hand; who is this beside me? It is my mother; turn up the gas and let me see mother!" The two dear faces met in one long, joyful, sobbing embrace, and the fondness pent up in each heart sobbed and panted and wept forth its expression.

Canine Resemblance.--180.

A Boston paper says their townsman, Abel Sniggs, has a dog so closely resembling one belonging to Tom Clegg, that it often happens that Clegg's dog takes himself into Sniggs's house, and does not discover his mistake until informed by the _cat_.

Marriage And Single Blessedness.--181.

We subjoin a curious specimen of verse, which is both ingenious and witty, and admits of being read in two ways. To suit the taste and inclinations of the married, or those who propose marriage, we transcribe it as follows; but to convey a directly opposite sentiment, for the benefit of the singly blessed, it will be necessary to alternate the lines, reading the first and third, then the second and fourth:--

"That man must lead a happy life Who is directed by a wife; Who's freed from matrimonial claims Is sure to suffer for his pains.

"Adam could find no solid peace Till he beheld a woman's face; When Eve was given him for a mate, Adam was in a happy state.

"In all the female race appear Truth, darling of a heart sincere, Hypocrisy, deceit, and pride, In woman never did reside.

"What tongue is able to unfold The worth in woman we behold? The failings that in woman dwell Are almost imperceptible.

"Confusion take the men, I say, Who no regard to women pay. Who make the women their delight Keep always reason in their sight."

A "Forest-Born" Orator.--182.

Rev. G. D. ----, of Fayetteville, Ark., one of the genuine "forest-born" orators, preaching not long since on "the glory of the saints," delivered the following burst of native eloquence, which is too good to be lost:--"Who, my bretherin, can describe the glory of the saints? Why, nothing on earth can liken it. Ef you drill a hole in the sun and put it on your head for a crown, and split the moon, and put it on your shoulders for epaulettes--if you tear down the starry curtain of the skies and wrap it round your body for a robe, and ride to Heaven on the lightning wings of the tempest--this will be as nothing compared to the glory of the saints."

Hen Persuaders.--183.

The _Springfield Republican_ speaks of a new invention for a hen's nest, whereby the eggs drop through a trap-door, and so deceives the hen that she keeps on laying until she has laid herself all away.

Popping The Question.--184.

One evening as I was a-sittin' by my Hetty, and had worked myself up to the stickin' pint, sez I, "Hetty, if a fellar was to ask you to marry him, what wud you say?" Then she laughed, and sez she, "That would depend on who asked me." Then sez I, "Suppose it was Ned Willis?" Sez she, "I'd tell Ned Willis, but not you." That kinder staggered me; but I was too cute to lose the opportunity, and so sez I again, "Suppose it was me?" And then you orter see her pout up her lip, and says she, "I don't take no supposes." Wall, now, you see there was nothin' for me to do but touch the gun off. So bang it went. Sez I, "Wall, Hetty, it's me; won't you say yes?" And then there was such a hulloballoo in my head, I don't know exactly what tuk place, but I thought I heerd a 'yes' whisperin' somewhere out of the skirmish.

Negro Sermon.--185.

"There are," said a sable orator, addressing his brethren, "two roads tro dis world--the one am broad and narrow road, that leads to perdition; and the oder a narrow and a broad road, that leads to destruction." "What i' dat?" said one hearer. "Say it again." "I say, my brethren, there are two roads tro dis world--the one am a broad and narrow road, that leads to perdition; the oder a narrow and broad road, that leads to destruction." "If dat am the case," said his sable questioner, "dis elluded individual takes to de woods."

Grandpa'S Spectacles.--186.

"There now," cried a little girl, while rummaging a drawer in a bureau; "there now, grandpa has gone to Heaven without his spectacles. What will he do?" And shortly afterward, when another aged relative was supposed to be sick unto death in the house, she came running to his bedside, with the glasses in her hand, and an errand on her lips: "You goin' to die?" "They tell me so." "Goin' to Heaven?" "I hope so." "Well, here are grandpa's spectacles--won't you take them to him?"

Tremendous Gale.--187.

We like to hear people tell good stories while they are about it. Read the following from a Western paper:--"In the late gale, birds were seen hopping about with all their feathers blown off." We have heard of gales at sea where it required four men to hold the captain's whiskers on!

A Witty Sentinel.--188.

A lieutenant of the 10th United States Infantry recently met with a sad rebuff at Fort Kearney. The lieutenant was promenading in full uniform one day, and approached a volunteer on sentry, who challenged him with "Halt! who comes there?" The lieutenant, with contempt in every lineament of his face, expressed his feeling with an indignant "Ass!" The sentry's reply, apt and quick, came: "Advance, Ass, and give the countersign."

A Cautious Witness.--189.

A witness in a certain court, not a thousand miles from Rappahannock, on being interrogated as to whether the defendant in a certain case was drunk, replied: "Well, I can't say that I have seen him drunk exactly, but I once saw him sitting in the middle of the floor, making grabs in the air, and saying that he'd be dogoned if he don't catch the bed the next time it ran around him!" This story reminds us of a cautious witness in an assault case in Baltimore, who testified that he did not see the prisoner strike the man, but he saw him take away his hand very quick, and the man fell!

A Poetical Editor.--190.

The editor of an American paper has taken to writing poetry, as the following will show:--"Brethren,--Is there a man with soul so dead, who never to himself hath said: I will my country paper take, both for mine own and family's sake? If such there be, let him repent, and have the paper to him sent; and, if he'd pass a happy winter, he in advance should pay the printer."

No Patients Living.--191.

A jolly fellow had an office next door to a doctor's shop. One day a gentleman of the old fogey school blundered into the wrong shop. "Is the doctor in?" "Don't live here," said the lawyer, who was in full scribble over some old documents. "Oh! I thought this was his office?" "Next door." "Pray, sir, can you tell me if he has many patients?" "Not living." The old gentleman told the story in the vicinity, and the doctor threatened the lawyer with a libel suit.

Criminal Didn'T See It.--192.

A criminal being asked, in the usual form, why judgment of death should not be passed against him, answered: "Why, I think there has been quite enough said about it already. If you please, we'll drop the subject."

A Returned Soldier'S Letter To His Nurse.--193.

"Dear Miss T----, I set down to tell you that I've arove hum, an wish I was sum whar else. I've got 3 bully boys an they are helpin me about getting the garden sass into the groun but they haint got no mother an I've a house and a kow and I thort youd be kinder handy to take care of um if youd stoop so much. Ive thort of you ever sense I com from the hospittle and how kinder jimmy you used to walk up an down them wards. You had the best gate I ever see an my 1st wife stepped off jes so an she paid her way I tell you. I like to work and the boys likes to work an I kno you do an so Ide like to jine if youv no objections an now Ive made so bold to rite sich but I was kinder pushed on by my feelins an so I hope youl excuse it an rite soon. I shant be mad If you say no but its no harm to ask an as I sa I cant help ritin an the boys names are Zeberlon Shadrac an peter they want to see you as dos your respecful friend which oes his present health to you.--JOSEPH C----."

Superfluous Testimonial.--194.

Prentice, of the _Louisville Journal_, notices the presentation of a silver cup to a brother editor thus: "He needs no cup. He can drink from any vessel that contains liquor, whether the neck of a bottle, the mouth of a pickle-jar, the spill of a keg, or th