_More Mustard than Meat._--A poor, emaciated Irishman having called in a
physician as a forlorn hope, the latter spread a large mustard plaster and
applied it to the poor fellow's lean chest.
"Ah, docthor," said Pat, looking down upon the huge plaster with tearful
eyes, "it sames to me it's a dale of mustard for so little mate."
* * * * *
"_Don't want to be an Angel._"--"I want to be an angel," which has been so
long shouted by _millions_ of darling little Sunday school children, who
hadn't the remotest idea for what they had been wishing (?), and whose
parents would not voluntarily consent to the premature transformation, if
the children did, has received a check in the following:--
A little sprite, who had been so very sick that her life was despaired of,
was told one morning by the doctor that she would now get well.
"O, I'm so glad, doctor!" she replied; "for I don't want to die and go to
heaben, and be an angel, and wear fedders, like a hen."