Chapter II: Preface (2)

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.