Democratic Sentinel, Volume 8, Number 41, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 7 November 1884 — HUMOR. [ARTICLE]

HUMOR.

Spellbound—the dictionary. Well backed up—the dromedary. A secluded spot—the ace up your sleeve. The title of Wilkie Collins’ last novel is “I Say No.” It was evidently not written when Wilkie was asked to step up and have something. “Money goes a great ways nowadays, ” observed a New York bank cashier, as he pocketed $50,000 of the bank’s funds and set out for Canada. “Fish?” asked a waiter of a visitor at the seaside hotel. “Wall, I dunno,” was the reply; “wait till I get snthin ter eat, and then I’ll talk with yer about goin’ fishin.”— Boston Bulletin. Little Edith has made a discovery in natural philosophy. She guesses the flies always turn their faces to the wall because they are ashamed of themselves for being such horrid nuisances to everybody. A young lady in South Carolina began singing, and kept it up until her two canaries sank exhausted in their efforts to outsing her. Now, we understand the meaning of the old saw about killing two birds with one’s tone. “There is nothing very brilliant about our Bremen dentists,” said a lady to an individual who practiced the art in Berlin, “but they are obliging. If you wish a tooth extracted with gas, they forthwith light the chandelier.” “Can I get a whisky cock-tail this morning ?” asked a stranger as he entered a Chatham street restaurant and bar last Sunday. “No, sir; it’s against the law to sell liquor Sunday. Just take a seat at the table. Here, waiter, bring a Kentucky breakfast for one.”— New York Sun. the widow nailed him. He loved her. She know it. She liked him. What then? He asked her to marry him again and again. She refused. He grew amrry. He left in a pet. He told her he wished that they never had met. She married another. She was happy. But he Roamed the wide world over on land and on sea. He returned after long years. Her husband was dead. He proposed. She accepted. And so they were wed. Eighteen years’ imprisonment and S3OO fine is all it cost the editor. of El Porvenir, a Spanish journal, for an article decided to be “disrespectful' to the King of Spain.” Where would the editors of this edtfolSty be if the press were muzzled only a tithe as muoh here ? Or say two-tithes as much?— Peck’s Sun. “Ah, Chari iej my dear boy, “what’s your hurry?” “Well, to tell the truth, Ned, my defalcation has been found out, and I am rather in a hurry to get away.” “Well, come up to the. club and tell me about it, and ” “No, I really can’t; I have got to leave in the morning. The Sheriff has just told me that I will be arrested in a day or so.” “Well, good-by, oilman; write when you have time.” *...• “Yes," said the young man to the Lecture Committee, “I want to deliver a temperance lecture in your town.” “You don’t look like a man who has had experience in drinking, ” remarked the Chairman, suspiciously. “Have you eve* been a drunkard?” “I lectured all through the South last winter, and in Florida, where I saw a swamp-snake fifty feet long, I-——” “Pardon my curiosity, sir,” interrupted the Chairman, hastily, “when do you want the lall 7”—Graphic.'