Democratic Sentinel, Volume 8, Number 38, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 17 October 1884 — HUMOR. [ARTICLE]

HUMOR.

While they are raising the Talla- : poosa wouldn’t it be a good thing to raise the rest of the navy just a little ? —Merchant Traveler. A man near Santa Rosa, CaL, sheared 110 sheep in one day. The same day a Wall street man sheared one lamb. It is safe to state the Wall street man got the biggest fleece. Since they got in the habit ont West of going down cellar to escape a cyclone it is remarkable how often a man with a barrel of hard cider in the cellar thinks he sees a cyclone coming. Shingled all the same: First small boy—“ Hello, Bill! Bin gittin’ yer head swingled? Second s. b., weeping—“No; ’twan’t my head!* First s. b. howls in a derisive and taunting manner.—Burdette. They now fill teeth with electricity. A woman with a tooth full of electricity and an eye full of fire will be a balmy object for a man to meet on the top landing when he comes home from balancing the books at 2 a. m. “When do you think of celebrating your wooden wedding?” asked a Burlington citizen of another. “Shh!" was tlje cautious reply; “don’t mention it. There are altogether too many broomsticks and rolling-pins in the house already.” “I say, Jones, dine with me at the house to-night, will you ?* “Certainly —with pleasure. Will your wife expect me?" “No; that’s the beauty of it. We had a quarrel this morning about the sea-shore business, and I want to make her mad.” Reckless dude (to burglar, whom he has discovered in closet): “O, you nasty, saucy thing, to hide in my bedroom! There! 11l break your umbrella, so can’t go out without getting soaked, for it’s raining like anything •outside.” Burglar faints. Very Big Boy—“ Please, Miss Blank, I don’t think father would like to have me ‘kept in’ after school.” Pretty Young Teacher—“ Why not, if he knows it is for breaking the rules?” Big Boy—“ This is leap year, you know.” She let him off.— Philadelphia Call. Truth crushed to earth: “Would you say,” asked the professor, “I would rather walk, or I had rather walk?” “Nary,” replied the new boy, “I should say I’d rather ride.” He did, too; he rode all around the big recitation-room to the lascivious pleasing of a slateframe. — Burdette.

coming thro’ the fog. - When a steamer meets another, Coming thro’ the fog. Which should turn out for the other?— Coming thro’ the fog. ' This question is quite hard to wrestle, Until we read the log, , Which clears from blame the lucky vessel ! That has come thro’ the fog! J Puck.— I “Whar’d yer git dat hatchet?" asked an old negro of his son. “Form’ it in Mr. Johnson’s yard on er stump.” “Dat’s all right, den, chile; I was afeered dat yer’d stol’d it Alius be keerful how yer pick up things what doan’ ’long ter yer, but when yer finds er thing, lessen de owner is er lookin’ at yer, it’s your’n.”— Arkansaw Traveler. ■ “What is the breed of your calf?” said a would-*be-buyer to a farmer. “Well,” said the farmer, “all I know about it is that his father gored a Justice of the Pace to death, tossed a book agent into the fence corner, and stood a lightning-rod man on his head, and his mother chased a female lecturer two miles, and if that ain’t breed enough to ask $4 on you needn’t take him!”— New York Tribune. If there is an impression that negroes are laying aside the habits of singing quaint melodies a visit to a negro camp-meeting will destroy the theory. At a large meeting held lately the singing was notable. One hymn began: If onct I get inside the door. You’ll neber fin’ me yere no more. And another verse ran— When I am dead an’ gone I don’ want no one to grieb over me. One melancholy refrain, though musical for all that, was— Daniel’s got in the lion’s den, I r’alv do belieb.