Democratic Sentinel, Volume 6, Number 49, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 5 January 1883 — HUMOR. [ARTICLE]

HUMOR.

A one-sided affair—Printers’ copy. A model man —The pattern-maker. When a rich Chinaman wants a he buys one. Rich men in China appear to have just as many privileges as widowers in America. Many a man who snarls and growls at his wife in public is very loving and tender when no one else is around. He has to be.— Philadelphia News A juryman was asked if the judge had charged him: “Faith,” said he, “the man lectured us a good deal, but I don’t believe he meant to charge for it.” Upon a writer exclaiming that his works contained much “food for thought,” a friend remarked: “That may be so;but it is wretchedly cooked.” A Tennessee woman has trained a dog to drink beer and chew tobacco. Now you will see that women will never marry. She has no use lor a man around the house.— N. Y. Mercury. England has showing that out of 139,143 of her people engaged in liter ary pursuits only twelve became lunatics. We presume the others were given the benefit of the doubt and called poets. A good old Quaker lady, after listening to the extravagant yam of a person as long as her patience would allow, said to him: “Friend, what a pity it is a sin to lie, when it seems so necessary to your happiness!” It takes from twelve to fifteen yards of cloth to make a woman a dress, and yet a man can make two pairs of trowsers out of less than that, and have one pair with a trail to each leg large enough to pull up over his back and tie around his throat for a necktie.—Phiapdelphia Herald. About GOO years ago a country editor started a joke about a printer who made a mistake in setting np a piece of copy. The next week the editor tried to set up a three-line editorial, and the proof looked like Alexandria after the bombardment, or a rubber overshoe after three years’ service, t “’Tis a poor rule that does not work both ways. I wa& at a dinner party, when a glass of wine was spilled on the table. Henry Meier put some salt on it and no one said a word. Subseqently the salt-dish was capsized and I poured a glass of wine on it,.’whereupon I came near being thrown out of the house.” “Why do women so often -wander aimlessly in the murky solitudes of the dead past brooding over days forever gone?” asks a correspondent, and we give it up, unless it be that she hopes by ransacking the dead past to find that in the wardrobe of the aforesaid dead past she may find something suitable to work up into a rag carpet. — Bill Nye. A day or two ago a passenger oh a milk train that had been detained some time on a siding, approached the conductor and accosted him: “Waiting for a blacksmith, conductor ?” he asked in a confidential whisper. “No,” growled the functionary, “what do we want of a blacksmith?” “I don’t know,” replied the passenger with a sigh. “I thought perhaps this cow had cast a shoe!”— Brake's Travelers' Magazine. The pastor’s little girl, three years old, had been running up and down the room for some time, when she suddenly tumbled down. Papa looked up from his book, expecting her accustomed yell, when, to his surprise, she repeated in her indescribably droll manner" the golden text of the preceding Sundy, “God is the Judge; he putteth down one and setteth up another.” ’ Yertrs have passed, but her drollery is still the life of the parsonage. There had been a heavy thunderstorm the night previous, and the school teaclipr asked little Johnny: “Were you not frightened, Johnny, as the thunder and lightning last night?” “No, sir; not a bit.” “That’s right, Johnnv. You are a good little Sundayschool boy. You know who causes the storm, don’t yon, Johnny?” “Yes, sir; my grandfather.” “Your grandfather! Why, Johnny, I am shocked at you. God makes the thunder and lightning and the storm.” “May be so; but the day before the storm came up my old grandfather said he felt it in liis bones.”

—Texas Siftings.