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.

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:—

[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.