Democratic Sentinel, Volume 2, Number 30, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 6 September 1878 — WIT AND HUMOR. [ARTICLE]

WIT AND HUMOR.

A sweet craft—Courtship. “A celebrated case”—The printer’s. t It’s a wise joke that knows it’s own father. It is a weiss beer that knows its own schooner. There was a row in Boston harbor last Tuesday between whites and blacks. The former were beaten—four boatlengths. The man who “stopped to take breath,” the other day, took so much with it that a policeman took all three to the station-house. A bright little girl who knows all about doll anatomy, on hearing that her grandma had broken her leg, wanted to know if the sawdust all came out of it. A gentleman who was presented with an heir, after having had six children of the other sex come into the family, acknowledged that it was a great sir-prize. A friend writes that “ the mosquitoes are too thick to sleep much down where he is.” They are toothin to sleep at all here, or let anybody else that they can get at. An “old maid” of Hoboken asks, “ Who ever saw a man kind ?” The Philadelphia Bulletin asks, “Who ever saw a lamb chop ?” The Boston Globe asks, “Who ever saw a hair dye ?” There isn’t much difference between an old Roman soldier and a cannital who has just dined on a nice young female missionary, for the former was a gladiator, and the latter is glad-he-ate-her, too. * “I sigh for one glance of your rye,” warbled an impecunious fellow as he wandered into a leading saloon a few days ago. He got but a “glance,” his range of vision being suddenly transferred to the outer air.

A young M. D. who graduated from a Philadelphia medical college last spring claims to have discovered an infallible cure for yellow fever. He says painting the patient red will keep the yellow in the fever from showing. Mrs. Henpeck—“ How stupid that you can’t recollect when Mrs. Maj. Shouter called!” Mr. Henpeck—“l—--know it was the day you hit me with the camp-stool.” Mrs. Henpeck—“Thenit was on Friday.” Mr. Henpeck—“ Oh, no; that was the day you threw the teapot at me.” “Mine’s eau de vie,” responded a patient waiter, as he stepped up readily to the bar with the three who were invited to join a new-comer. “Yes, and you’ve owed a V here now these six weeks,” said the barkeeper, “ and ought to be branded as a man that don’t pay.” And he was so brandied.

“ We have plenty of fresh salt air here —even our lady boarders wear sol’taires in their ears,” said an enthusiastic seaside landlord. “ Don’t say so,” said the press guest; “have you a salt-rheum in the house? ’ “ Yes, sir,” said the landlord, quickly; “ a humorous correspondent has it just now.” A full bearded young grandfather recently had his hirsute appendage shaved off, showing a clean face for the first time for a number of years. At the dinner-table his 3-year-old granddaughter noticed it, gr.zed long with wondering eye, and finally ejaculated, “ Grandfather, whose head you got on ?” “Sweets to the sweet,” said a young man on passing the sirup to a young lady seated at one of our hotel tables. “And beets to the beat,” remarked the lady, shoving a dish of that vegetable toward the young man. For some reason the observation cast a settled gloom o’er a countenance that just before was radiant with smiles.

Here is the peroration of an able counsel’s remarks: “I hope, gentlemen of the jury, that you will not regard the case for the prosecution as having been made out. But if, to suppose an impossibility, you should condemn my cliert, let me beseech you to have what mercy you may have upon this unhappy man who has never yet strayed from the path of rectitude, and only asks your assistance to enable him to return to it.” Now doth the merry harvester Whistle the jelly tunes, The while the gentle bumble-bee Skips up his “pantaloons.” Gone after the arnica. —Stillwater Lumberman. Never lose yourself in church, if you have anything weighing on your mind. A man in a neighboring city, who had just paid the milliner a fearful bill for his better-half’s new and elaborately decorated head-gear, dropped into a doze in his pew, and, when the minister gave out to be sung that hymn of Montgomery’s commencing: What is the thing of greatest price The whole creation round ? the drowsy man, forgetting where he was and supposing the question was propounded to him personally, electrified the congregation by very audibly ejaculating, “My wife’s new bonnet!”• — Chicago Commercial Advertiser.