A Mr. J. Lemon, of the North Carolina Legislature, has abandoned the
Whigs and joined the Democrats. That’s all right enough. If the
Democrats think they can recruit their strength with Lemon-aid, they are
welcome to try the experiment.
_Toast_ any girl but her, said Ned,
With every other flutter—
I’ll be content with Annie Bread,
And won’t have any _but her_.
A young man in one of our Western towns had patronized the arts so far
as to buy a picture of the Temptation of Adam and Eve. Some one asked
him if it was a chaste picture. “Yes,” he said, “_chased_ by a snake.”
This would have been witty if he had known it, but he didn’t.
A judge did once his tipstaff call,
And say, “Sir, I desire
You go forthwith and search the hall
And bring me in the crier.”
“And search in vain, my lord, I may,”
The tipstaff gravely said;
“The crier cannot cry to-day,
Because his wife is dead.”
When the fleet commanded by Lord Howe was stationed at Torbay, some time
previous to his defeat of St. André (1794), the inhabitants used to play
upon his name, saying,—
Lord _Howe_ he went out!
Lord _Howe_ he came in!
After the great victory over the French, the following toast was much in
vogue:
May the French know _Howe_ to be master of the seas.
“How is it that you can tell such whoppers?” asked a caller, addressing
the editor of the fish-story department.
“Well, you see,” replied the editor, “our wife’s name is Anna.”
“What has that to do with it?”
“A great deal. When we are writing fish stories we usually have Anna
nigh us to help us.”
Two Quaker girls about to do some ironing on the same table, one asked
the other which side she would take, the right or left. She answered
promptly: “It will be right for me to take the left, and then it will be
left for thee to take the right.”
How a French marshal conveyed an order under cover of a cough, in 1851,
is told as follows:
The prevalence of coughs and colds at the present moment reminds me of
the fact that it was a cough which was mainly responsible for the
immense amount of bloodshed that attended the _coup d’état_ whereby
Napoleon III. obtained his throne.
That unscrupulous but brilliant adventurer, General, and afterward Field
Marshal, de St. Arnaud, had charge of the military operations. But he
was unwilling to assume the direct responsibility of ordering the troops
to fire upon the people, being not altogether certain as to the result
of Napoleon’s memorable enterprise.
When the moment for action arrived and the mob began to show signs of
sweeping aside the troops, the brigadier generals under his orders sent
an officer to him at head-quarters to ask him what they were to do,
whether they were to fire on the populace or give way.
Strangely enough, St. Arnaud was seized at that moment with a violent
fit of coughing which lasted for several minutes. Finally when it ceased
the General just managed to gasp the words, “Ma sacrée toux!” (my cursed
cough).
The officer having waited until the General had recovered his breath
repeated the question. Again St. Arnaud was seized with a violent fit of
coughing, which terminated, as on the previous occasion, with the
parting exclamation of “Ma sacrée toux!”
The officer was no fool; he could take a hint as well as anyone else,
and saluting he left St. Arnaud’s presence. On returning to the
brigadiers and colonels who had sent him for instructions he was asked
what reply St. Arnaud had made.
“The General’s only words and commands were massacrez tous!” (massacre
everybody).
These commands were obeyed to the letter, and many thousand people were
shot down and bayoneted in consequence.
The word-twisters do not hesitate to invade the cemeteries and leave
their mark on tombstones. Here is one of Dr. Dibdin’s epitaphs:
Reader, of these four lines take heed,
And mend your life for my sake;
For you must die, like ISAAC REED,
Though you may _read_ till your _eyes ache_.
Cecil Clay, the counsellor of Lord Chesterfield, directed this whimsical
pun upon his name to be put on his tombstone: