Democratic Sentinel, Volume 8, Number 44, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 28 November 1884 — HUMOR. [ARTICLE]

HUMOR.

The young man who would 3Com the idea of being a farmer is the very one who is apt to be an expert in sowing wild oats. — Carl Pretzel's Weekly. A Kentucky teacher writes to ask whether it is “the Duty of a teacher to whipp a pupill hard a Nuff to cut the bind out or Nott.”— Neio York Telegram. “Distrust that man who tells you to distrust,” says Ella Wheeler. And so we do, Mrs. Wilcox. But, on the other hand, must we trust the man who tells us to trust? Not by a jug full. Instructor (examining geometrical figures on the board)—“l don’t understand these constructions." Student —“Very well; I’ll see you after recitation and explain them to you.” An awkward misconstruction: Young Farmer—“ Are you fond of beasts, Miss Gusherton?” Miss Gusherton—“O, really, Mr. Pawker, if you mean this as a declaration, you must speak to mamma. ” Of Mr. Criscross and his girl: Mother—“l am afraid Mr. Criscross is not serious in his attentions.” Daughter—“He is awfully bashful, you know, but he’s offering himself piecemeal. Last night he wanted me to take his arm.” Delmonico said: “Very few people understand how to cook water.” We should think the best way w ould be to boil it. Still, some people may prefer it roasted or fried. It’s purely a matter of taste.— Philadelphia Call. “My dear,” said a sick man to his wife, “how does the doctor say I am getting along?” “Very nicely, indeed.” ■“Does he think I am entirely out of danger?” “Oh, yes.” “Wellj then, you had better have him and the minister discontinue their visits.”— Ex. “Yes sir,” said the entomologist, “I can tame flies so that when I whistle they will come and alight on my hand. ” “Pshaw,” said the bald-headed man, “that’s nothing. They come and alight on my head without any whistling,” The entomologist sat down.—Somerville Journal. When a man is working for his board, and his employer issues a circular outting down all wages 50 per cent, then, indeed, you may say the shadow of hard times is upon us, and that man is justified in resorting to extreme measures.— Burdette.

“What did Cain say when the Lord asked him where lus brother was?” asked an Austin Sunday-school teacher. None of the boys answered, but the smallest boy in the class snapped his fingers and said: “I’ve forgot what Cain said, but I know he sassed the Lord back.” —Ter as Siftings. Fair Philistine—“ Yes, we’ve just returned from a visit to Antwerp, and of course we saw Rubens’ great picture at the cathedral. I don’t like it a bit. I never yet saw any picture by him I did like.” Artist (more in sorrow than in anger)—“Perhaps you have not come across the best examples of that great master.” Fair Philistine—Perhaps not. By-the-by, there was one Rubens there I liked.” Artist (very mueli relieved) — “Ah! there was one. I’m glad to hear that.” Fair Philistine—“ Yes; it was a picture of his death, painted by somebody else.” — Judy. FACING THE MUSIC. His hair was gray, liis step infirm. And life was reminding out its term, lmo his h art had sorrow come; He knew the burning thirst lor rum— His triends had changed, and yet a lew Were slid in iriendslup firm and true. His tears had poured like summer-showers Upon the graves of faded tlowers; Ueneath the daisy-breeding sod Ttiere lie his hostages to uod— His wife and children, all the ties That bind a man to Paradise. Thus chastened for the sinner’s good. The aged man in pen nance stood. Until there came the mighty call Which maketh cowards of us aIL Emboldened by years and pride. He met the summons, and he—dyed His hair and beard of darkest sheen. And married a girl iust sweet sixteen.