"Very well, if you can't write, make your cross."
"Make me cross? That's just it, you make me so cross I can't.
Sophronisba Katherine Simpkins. There."
"That will do. Kindly make way for the next person."
"Oh, but mister, look here. What have you got it?"
"Got what?"
"The age."
"Thirty-five."
"Does it make any difference if it ain't right?"
"It might make a serious difference."
"Oh, dear! Oh, dear, I've gone and perjured myself. But it's all your
fault, you horrid man, you flustered me so. Did I say thirty-five? I
didn't mean it. It's forty-five, so there."
And away she goes in a state of great indignation and perplexity.
--_Burlington Hawkeye._
An Effective Mule Invigorator.
While traveling in Virginia some time ago with a doctor we came upon an
old colored man who was standing by a mule hitched to an old two-wheel
vehicle. "Dis mule am balked, boss," said the old man; "an' I'll jis gib
a dollah to de man what can start 'im."
"I will do it for less than that, uncle," said the doctor. He took his
case from the carriage and selected a small syringe, which he filled
with morphin. He went to the side of the mule and quickly inserting the
syringe in his side pushed the contents into the animal. The mule reared
upon his hind legs and giving an astonishing bray started down the road
at a break neck speed. The aged colored man gave a look of astonishment
at the doctor, and with a loud "Whoa!" started down the road after the
mule. In the course of ten minutes we came up to the old man standing in
the road waiting for us. The mule was nowhere in sight.
"Say, boss," said the darky, "how much you charge for dat stuff you put
in dat mule?"
"Oh, ten cents will do," laughingly replied the doctor.
"Well, boss, heah is twenty cents. Squirt some of dat stuff in me. I
must ketch dat ar mule."
--_Philadelphia Press._
The racy flavor of much of the recent news from the New England States
shows that the cider of the vintage of 1889, which lurks in the gallon
jug behind the door, is beginning to get a head on it.
--_Chicago News._
[Illustration: This is a photo of a gentleman employed by Chief Hubbard
as a Chicago detective.]
That man's policy was wiser who catching his son taking a whiff or two
from a cigar, merely insisted on his finishing it, standing by him until
he had done so. The succeeding two hours were never forgotten.
--_Tobacco Leaf._
That the moral nature of the pig is essentially mean and selfish is
proven by the fact that he is always willing and ready to "squeal" when
he gets into a tight place.
--_Baltimore American._
[Illustration: After six months' service he looks just like the rest of
'em.]
--_Chicago Liar._
The New York Prohibitionists have formally condemned recklessness in the
conduct of the Pension Bureau. It is a good place to introduce a little
temperance.
--_Boston Herald._
He Got the Trousers.
Husband--You want a bonnet and I want a pair of trousers, and I have
only got ten dollars.
Wife (sobbing)--You don't suppose I can get a bonnet for ten dollars, do
you?
--_Clothier and Furnisher._
A Curiosity.
Heard in an elevated car: "That man must be a saint."
"What makes you think so?"
"Because he almost broke his fingers trying to raise that window and he
didn't swear at all."
--_N. Y. Morning Journal._
Clean in the Faith.
"Yas, sah, Mr. George," said an old negro, "we got ter keep clean; we
got ter keep clean, sah, or dar ain't no hope o' de salwation."
"Why, then, don't you go and wash yourself?"
"Whar--whar--what, sah? W'y doan I go wash merse'f?"
"Yes, and put on a clean shirt. You are as dirty as you can be."
"Oh, now, yere, I ain't talkin' 'bout dat sorter keepin' clean. I waz
talkin' 'bout keepin' clean in the faif, sah, in de faif. I ain't got no
time ter fool erlong wid de waters o' dis yere life. Whut I means is ter
keep yer speret clean, washed in the dewdraps o' de New Jerusalem;
means, as I tells you, dat we mus' keep clean in de faif, sah--keep
clean in de faif."
--_Arkansaw Traveler._
A Large Party.
Crimsonbeak--I expect a large party here to-day.
Yeast--Indeed! Who's coming?
"My uncle."
"Who else?"
"No one else."
"But you said a large party."
"Well, my uncle weighs 350 pounds."
--_Yonkers Statesman._
MRS. FLYNN AND THE GOAT.
The Lady's Stirring Narrative, with Spring Lamb Trimmings.
Mrs. Flynn relates with much pathos an incident in her life, that
graphically illustrates woman's trustfulness and man's perfidy.
"Oi waz in the market wan mornin' lookin' fer some mate, an' a Dootch
butcher axed me how an illegant bit av Spring lamb wad soot. Oi sed it
wad do af it waz good, an he sed it waz the best in the market or he
wudn't be offerin' it to a lady loike meself. Oi'm fond av Spring lamb,
an so Oi took a hunk av it home an' cooked it fer me ould mon an'
meself.
"May the divil take me av it tasted roight. It had a sort av a rank an
romantic flavor thet Oi niver kem across afore, an' heaven help me, may
Oi niver come across it again.
"Oi kept me jaw to meself, and said nathin'. After dinner the ould mon
said the Spring lamb tasted kin o' quare an' he wondered had Oi cooked
the baste enough. Oi said Oi had cooked the baste joost roight, an' Oi
saw nathin wrong wid the taste av it.
"Whin the ould mon had gone out to wurruk, Oi tuk a luck at the chunk av
mate that was left, an' phat do you tink Oi saw? A bit av the skin av
the varmint, an' it had hair on it instead of wool, begorra. The thavin'
Dootchman hed sold me goat instead av lamb! Bad luk to him!
"Oi coodn't affoord to lose the mate, d'ye see, an' so Oi kept me jaw to
meself an' said nothin agin. Oi stewed it up wid spices and tings to
disguoise the taste, an' we had it agin fer supper. Oi told the ould mon
Oi didn't care fer enny Spring lamb fer supper, but it wuz very
beautiful cooked up wid spices, an he needed plenty av mate now that he
wuz wurkin' wid the Park Commishioners. He ate awhoile, an' thin he said
the Spring lamb tasted kind o' quare, an' he thought it wuz too
high-toned fer us.
"'Now, me darlint,' Oi said, 'the Spring lamb is a little high-toned,
but it is none too good fer the loikes av us, an' ye moost ate hearty so
ye can do good wurruk fer the Park Commishioners.'
"He said the Park Commishioners be blowed, an' he cood do good enough
wurruk fer them on roast bafe, an' wad Oi git roast bafe the nixt
toime?
"Oi said, 'My darlint, av coorse Oi'll git roast bafe the nixt toime,
but we moost ate all the Spring lamb foorst.'
"Well, ye see it took me hoosband several days to git away wid the
Spring lamb, but he foinly got trough wid the job, an' thin Oi took the
bit av skin wid the hair on, phat Oi had saved as a guarantay av good
faith, an' Oi wint down to the market. Oi hoonted up the beautiful
Dootchman, an' sez Oi:
"'Have you enny noice mate this mornin', Dootchy?'
"'Phat koind wad you loike this mornin', Mrs. Flynn?' sez he.
"'Oi ate nothin' but the best,' sez Oi.
"'How wad a noice bit av Spring lamb soot?' sez he.
"'Tanks,' sez Oi. 'Spring lamb is a bit high-toned fer me. Oi'll take a
foine large steak av ye plaze.'
"'About how large?' sez he.
"'About tin pounds,' sez Oi, 'an' a foine juicy wan, av ye plaze.'
"So Oi tuk the steak an' takin' a good grip av it, Oi slammed it around
his big Dootch ears till he yelled bloody murther in fourteen languages.
'The nixt toime ye sell me goat fer Spring lamb, ye thavin'
Dootchman'--an' Oi kept bastin' him around the ugly lugs--'the nixt
toime ye sell me goat, Oi say, Oi'll make ye ate his whuskers.'"
--_N. Y. World._
Sam Wellerisms.
"It is a paneful sight," as the man said when his host took him out to
inspect his new conservatory.
"You are a counter attraction," as the masher whispered to the pretty
girl in the confectioner's shop.
"Teeth inserted without gas," as the fellow who owned a savage dog
inscribed on a board outside his garden gate.
"He is suffering from organic diseases," as the doctor observed when he
was called in to prescribe for a man who had been driven wild by a
peripatetic piano-organ.
"She is painted by Heaven," as the enthusiastic young man exclaimed when
he beheld a girl with a beautiful complexion.
"This is a sloe meeting," as one husband remarked to another at the tea
fight which their wives had compelled them to attend.
--_Judy._
Accounting for the Edition.
Enthusiastic Friend--Ah, how d'do, Charlie? Gone into literature, I see.
Quite a book of yours. I bought a copy yesterday.
Author (thoughtfully)--Now, if I could only find out who bought the
other copy!
--_N. Y. Evening Sun._
Twenty-five Cents Ahead.
A story is told about a Kingston minister's marriage fee that causes
amusement among the clergy. He was paid $1 for marrying a couple. After
they departed he was about to hand the money to his wife, when the door
bell was rung. The newly-married wife said she wanted a certificate. No
marriage was good without one. It cost twenty-five cents for a blank
that would suit her. The reverend gentleman filled the blank out in the
usual form and she went away seemingly satisfied. A few days later she
again appeared at the door. "Mister," said the woman in an aggrieved
tone, "I looked through the papers and can't find a notice of our
wedding. You ought not to treat us different from other folks." So the
dominie went to a newspaper office and paid fifty cents to have a notice
inserted. When he reached home he handed the remaining twenty-five cents
to his wife with the remark: "Here, my dear, hurry and take this before
that woman makes another call."
--_Kingston Freeman._
Not Very Flattering.
"Mighty fine woman I saw you lifting your hat to back there, old boy."
"Yes, rather."
"Some mash of yours?"
"Yes."
"Couldn't introduce a fellow, eh?"
"Might, if you'll come up to the house some evening."
"Oh! your wife?"
"Yes."
"Pshaw! I supposed it was your cook."
--_Detroit Free Press._
Two Kinds of Bands.
"Pap, did you ever hear music from a rubber band?" said Johnnie.
"No, my son, never. What in the world do you mean. Is it a lot of rubber
figures that you blow up and then do they play music?"
"Naw, pap. Come out in the next room and I'll let you hear some music
from a rubber band."
The old gentleman becoming interested, laid down his paper, wiped his
glasses, and followed his son into the next room, where Johnnie had a
rubber band stretched from one side of the wood box to the other, which
he began to pick with his finger. "Now, pap, you can say that you have
heard music from a rubber band."
"Yes," said the old man, "and I will be able to add that I have caused
music by a leather band," and suiting the action to the word, he reached
around for a strap, and before John knew it he felt as if eight million
rubber bands were snapping him where his pants fit the tightest.
--_Liverpool Post._
It Hurt His Feelings.
Kansas Tramp--Mister, could you do a little something to assist a poor
man?
Stranger--You don't look as though you were unable to work. You ought to
be ashamed of yourself to go around this way. You are a disgrace to
humanity. Why don't you go down to the river and take a bath and try to
earn a living?
K. T. (pathetically)--Take a bath. Ain't it enough to have to drink the
stuff?
--_Merchant Traveler._
The young ladies at the Delaware Water Gap had a "paint and powder
party," one night recently, each maid appearing painted and powdered.
There doesn't seem to have been any thing save the name to distinguish
it from any other party attended by young ladies.
--_Norristown Herald._
Young Man of Killarney.
There was a young man of Killarney,
Who was chock full of what is called blarney.
He would sit on a stile,
And tell lies by the mile,
Would this dreadful young man of Killarney.
--_Pick-Me-Up._
THE ELIXIR OF LIFE.--By H. C. R.
[Illustration: 1.--On the way to be infused.]
Just Discovered.
Assistant (to magazine editor)--I see this young Miss ---- is making
herself famous through the medium of the newspapers.
Magazine Editor--Yes--um--haven't we got a story of hers sent in four or
five years ago?
Assistant--Yes, sir.
M. E.--Run it in this month and give a page editorial to "A Newly
Discovered Genius."
--_St. Paul Pioneer Press._
A Blush Absorber.
Housewife--Your impudence amazes me. I infer by your nose that----
Tramp--Ah, madam, you do me great wrong. I do not drink. My nose is
simply a blush absorber.
--_Detroit Free Press._
[Illustration: 2.--TWENTY-FOUR HOURS LATER.]
DOCTOR--Now, gentlemen, how do you feel, one at a time, please?
DARKY--I feels gay, boss. Chickens better roost high to-night.
HEBREW--So help me, Abraham, I vould give a quarter for a job lot of dat
stuff.
IRISHMAN--I fale loike kicking the stoofin out of Branigan's bull pup.
An Unpardonable Error.
Father--Mr. Sand, the grocer, tells me he discharged you for swindling
him. This is a terrible disgrace to the family.
Son--I couldn't help it, father. He gave me some lead to put under the
scales, and I made a mistake and put it on the wrong side.
--_Life._
Too Dangerous.
Uncle--Bobby, don't you hear your mother calling you?
Bobby--Yes'r.
"Well, why don't you hasten to her?"
"Why, ma has heart disease and she'd be surprised most to death if I
answered the first time she called me. Besides, this game of marbles
must be finished."
--_Omaha World._
[Illustration: 3.--LATER ON.]
Three new recruits for the golden shore.
Times Have Changed.
Long ago there was a time when Sir Walter Raleigh laid his cloak over a
puddle, so that the royal Elizabeth might go on her way dry-shod.
In similar circumstances, Queen Victoria would be lucky if she could
elicit from the gilded youth of the present day the languid cry of "Skip
the gutter, old lady!"
--_Harvard Lampoon._
From the Oklahoma "Snorter."
The Oklahoma _Snorter_, in its last issue, contained the following
breezy locals:
Jim Highbee has secured the beautiful lot at the corner of Bullwhacker
avenue and Kill'emquick street, and has begun the erection of a tent
thereon. This lot formerly belonged to Dick Skinner, but he gave it up
at the same time he give up his life. Col. Jim is a good shot.
We are glad to learn that our friend Dan Bunker has at last come into
possession of a choice lot. Dan killed the former claimant with his
first shot. Dan is a rustler, and never does things by halves.
The report that the ten men found dead last night on Goosebristle Creek
had been shot, proves a fabrication. They were the victims of congestive
chills.
Wanted--Ten first-class grave diggers. Also, four or five more coffin
makers. Must be willing to work twelve hours a day, but pay is large.
Cophin & Son.
Subscribers must pay for this paper in advance. Life is too uncertain to
take any chances.
Major Burdock, one of our gentlemanly undertakers, came up yesterday to
see us. The Major is smiling, and says he never had more flattering
business prospects. He is running a large corps of men day and night in
order to keep up with his orders. He says he is prepared to make liberal
terms with those who contemplate taking claims, if they wish to arrange
in advance for burial.
There was quite a lot of freight received at the depot yesterday,
consisting chiefly of coffins and guns.
Notice--We are prepared to bury boomers quicker and cheaper than any
other house in the city. Send in your friends. We will take pleasure in
burying them. Plantum & Co.
Real estate has changed hands rapidly the last few days. The new owners
usually show their liberality by burying the former claimants.
Several Texans came in yesterday to locate claims. Our undertakers are
watching the corners for a good harvest.
Food and ammunition are becoming scarce. We learn, however, that a
carload of shot and powder is expected to-day.
First-class meals at all hours at Tremont hotel. Bean soup, fifty cents
a dish; eggs, ten cents each (when we have them); water, five cents a
glass. Call in second tent above the _Snorter_ office.
We learn that our genial friend Dick Tucker has given up his claim and
returned home. We are sorry to lose Dick, as he was one of the most
cheerful and whole-hearted men among us. If he had known the claim was
so worthless it is doubtful if he would have shot the man who held it
down before him.
Bill Swanson was in to-day and reported that he had secured a fine claim
just east of town. Of course he had to remove the man who was on it, but
Bill did it neatly, and then paid the funeral expenses. There is nothing
small about Bill.
--_Time._
Herr Yager on the Marriage Question.
"Good evening, Neighbor Yager. What's your opinion about marriage being
a failure?"
"Vell, I dinks it vas vone dem dings und it don'd vas vone dem dings.
Vhen a man got him marriedt he got him marriedt; dat vas somedings sure;
der don'd vhas some vailures about dot. Aber ouf him got a frau vhat
vhas some dem Arisdodle's preed, vhat neffer done got dalkin', den dem
marridges vas so pig failures as you marry some vomans vhat peen a
brudder mit der teifel. Dot marridges vas some loddery dickets--dot vhas
all luck vhat kind a frau youm gatch; shoost like dis: ouf dem vomans
vas some fishes der sea in, und der vas one vone den-times goot vomans
fishes derein, vhen youm a frau fishin' gone meppy youm vone dimes in a
hunnert gatch vone dem goot fishes, aber not more as dot."
"Did you catch one of the good fishes, Herr Yager?"
Then Herr Yager looked back at the front windows of his residence and
remarked in a kind of graveyard tone:
"I seen you lader."
--_Kentucky State Journal._
Attached.
"I love you well," the stamp exclaimed,
"Dear envelope so true,
In fact it's evident to all.
That I am stuck on you."
--_Minneapolis Tribune._
Not Saving His Bacon.
It is related that Sir Nicholas Bacon was about to pass judgment upon a
man who had been guilty of robbery, at that time punishable by death;
but the culprit pleaded for mercy on the ground that he was related to
the judge.
"How is that?" he was asked.
"My Lord," was the reply, "your name is Bacon, mine is Hogg, and hog and
bacon have always been considered akin."
"That is true," answered Sir Nicholas; "but as hog is not bacon until it
has hung, until you are hanged you are no relation of mine."
--_Chiel._
Her Attraction.
There's something attractive about her:
It isn't her beauty of face,
It isn't her ribbons of lace,
But there's something attractive about her,
And I swear that I can't live without her,
And that is the state of the case.
There's something attractive about her,
It isn't her glance or her smile,
It isn't her elegant style;
But I'm poor and I can't live without her,
For that something attractive about her,
You know, is the size of her pile.
--_Boston Courier._
Deaf But Sensible.
Traveler (in buggy)--This is a hot day.
Old Farmer (in a potato patch)--Speakin' to me?
Traveler--This is a hot day.
Old Farmer (coming to the fence)--What did you say, mister?
Traveler--I said this is a hot day!
Old Farmer (climbing the fence and approaching the buggy)--Beg pardon,
I'm a little hard o' hearin'. What is it?
Traveler--I merely said that this is a hot day.
Old Farmer--Oh, go to thunder!
--_Owl._
JOURNAL OF SOLOMON SIDESPLITTER.
"Martha, does thee love me?" asked a Quaker youth of one at whose shrine
his heart's fondest feelings had been offered up. "Why, Seth," answered
she, "we are commanded to love one another, are we not?" "Ah, Martha!
but doest not thee regard me with that feeling that the world calls
_love_?" "I hardly know what to tell thee, Seth; I have greatly feared
that my heart was an erring one; I have tried to bestow my love on all;
but I may have sometimes thought, perhaps, that thee was getting rather
more than thy share."
"Martha, my dear," said a loving husband to his spouse, who was several
years his junior, "what do you say to moving to the far West?" "Oh, I'm
delighted with the idea! You recollect when Mr. Morgan moved out there
he was as poor as we are; and he _died in three years, leaving his widow
worth a hundred thousand dollars_."
"Ma," said a juvenile grammarian, when she returned from school; "ma,
mayn't I take some of the currant-jelly on the sideboard?" "No," said
the mother, sternly. "Well, then, ma, mayn't I take some of the
ice-cream?" "No," again replied "ma." It was not long, however, before
the young miss was found "diggin'" into both. "Did I not tell you," said
the maternal parent, in a somewhat angry tone, "not to touch them?" "You
said _no_ twice, ma," said the precocious girl, "and the schoolmistress
says that two negatives are equal to an affirmative; so I thought you
meant that I should eat them."
"Mat, I want another _porter_." "What _ales_ the one you have, Dick?"
"He's dead." "Gone to his _bier_, eh?" "Hang you, Dick, your wit's
always a broad-_cider_."
"Jack, Jack!" cried a sailor, on board a ship at sea, lately, to one of
his companions.--"Hello!" replied Jack; "what is it?"--"Your brother's
overboard."--"Overboard?"--"Yes."--"Blow the lubber! he has got my
sea-boots and monkey-jacket on!"
Judge Rooke, in going the western circuit, had a great stone thrown at
his head; but, from the circumstance of his stooping very much, it
passed over him. "You see," said he to his friends, "that had I been an
upright judge, I might have been killed."
"Kitty, where's the frying-pan?"--"Johnny's got it, carting mud and
oyster shells up the alley, with the cat for a horse."--"The dear little
fellow! what a genius he'll yet make; but go and get it. We're going to
have company, and must fry some fish for dinner."
Lighting an editor's fire with rejected contributions--_Burns' Justice._
Lady F---- had arrived to so extreme a degree of sensibility, that,
seeing a man go by with a mutilated wheelbarrow, she cried out to her
companion, "Do turn aside, it distresses me above measure to see that
poor unfortunate wheelbarrow with one leg."
"La, me!" sighed Mrs. Muggins, "here have I been sufferin' the begamies
of death for three mortal weeks. Fust, I was seized with a painful
phrenology in the left hampshire of the brain, which was exceeded by a
stoppage of the left ventilator of the heart. This gave me an
inflammation in the borax, and now I'm sick with the chloroform morbus.
There is no blessin' like that of health, particularly when you're
sick."
"Jack," said a commercial traveller to a country joskin, "which is the
way to Harlingford?" "How did you know my name was Jack?" inquired the
countryman. "Why, I guessed it," replied the bagman. "Then guess your
way to Harlingford," says Jack, "for I shan't tell you."
"John, what is the past of see?" "_Seen_, sir." "No, it is
_saw_--recollect that." "Yes, sir. Then if a _sea_-fish swims by me, it
becomes a _saw_-fish when it is _past_, and can't be _seen_." "You may
go home, John."
Judge Peters, a Philadelphian and a punster, having observed to another
judge on the bench that one of the witnesses had a _vegetable_ head,
"How so?" was the inquiry. "He has _carroty_ hair, _reddish_ cheeks, a
_turnup_ nose, and a _sage_ look."
"John," screamed a country girl, seated by the side of her dull lover,
"leave me alone!" John, astonished, cried, "Why, I ain't a-touching
yer!" "No," replied she, "but you might have done--if you liked."
"Jim, why is it that a musician's strains are always heard so much less
distinctly when he plays alone, than when in a band?"--"Why, I didn't
know it was so--suppose it must be because he plays _so-lo_."
"Jack," said a gentleman to an old negro, who was rather lazily engaged
in clearing the snow from his premises, "Jack, my old boy, you don't get
along with this job very fast."--"Why, master," replied Jack, scratching
his wool, "pretty considerable for an old man, I guess; and I conceit
myself, that I can clear more snow away in dese here short days, than
the spryest nigga in the city could do in the longest summer day as ever
was."
Mr. Russell once asked a nigger to call him early in the morning,
because he wanted to go by the first boat. "At wat time, massa?" "At
half-past three o'clock." "Half-pass tree o'clock?" "Yes, sir." The
nigger, after grinning, departed; but immediately reappeared, saying:
"Please, massa, don't forget to ring for me at tree o'clock in the
morning, and I can be sure to wake you."