Democratic Sentinel, Volume 8, Number 47, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 19 December 1884 — HUMOR. [ARTICLE]

HUMOR.

A Justice’s pantaloons can hardly bo called breeches of the peace. “M usxc hath charms to soothe a savage breast.” Go West, you tooting bugler, go W T est.— Pretzel's Weekly. Quinine has not been so low in price for years, and a fellow can better afford to have his girl give him the shake this year than at any other time. “There is no place like your home," says the poet. Right! unless it’s the home of the young woman you’re after. This is, of course, an exception. Future poets will please note it. Said an astronomer to a bright-eyed girl, when talking of rainbows: “Did you ever see a lunar bow, miss ?” “I have seen a beau by moonlignt, if that is what you mean,” was the sly rejoinder. Never judge a woman by the clothes she wears. Many a fascinating woman, covered with silks and flounces and furbelows, turns her toes in to such a distressing extent that when she walks her feet look like an isosceles triangle with the base omitted.— Carl Pretzel’s Weekly. “Now, little boy, what is the meaning of the word hvpocr.sy?” asked an Austin Sunday-school teacher of her favorite pupil. “I can’t explain it, but I know it all the same.” “Give me an example of hypocrisy.” “When a fellow says he loves his Sunday-school teacher. That’s hypocrisy.” —Texas Siftings. Not what he intended: He (a crack tennis-player)— “It’s a splendid game, isn’t it? I really think that your sex ought to get up a testimonial to the inventor. It’s the best game ever invented in which ladies can join.” She (with a brother in his university eleven) —Yes, that’s what Jack says; “it’s a splendid game for ladies and duffers. ” They were discussing politics. “If you were marching in a procession and your torch went out you wouldn’t have to call for a match,” remarked Jones; you could light it witti your nose.” “You could do better than that," retorted Smith; “you wouldn’t need any torch at all.” “Indeed[’’replied Jones. “No. All you would have to do would be to light your breath. ” — New York Graphic. A lady in Ireland was asked by an elderly reverend gentleman whom she met in Dublin why it was that she was not married. “You wouldn’t ask that question,” said the lady, “if you knew the state of affairs in the city where I live. Why, there are seven ladies to one gentleman in that place." “And why didn’t you get the ohe gentleman?” slyly asked the questioner.— Lawrence American. , “Don’t you know,” said a minister, addressing a little boy who was fishing, “that God doesn’t love little boys who fish Sundays?” Just then a pull on the line occurred, and the boy lauded a two-pound trout. .“Don’t He?” exclaimed the boy, placing the fish in a basket that contained about a dozen just like it. “Don’t He ? You look in that basket, mister, an’ see if he don’t, —Detroit Post. FINALLY DROPPED ANCHOR. My love was like a buoyant skip O'er sunny waves at sea. And in the voyage of my heart She sailed away from me! I followed in her flying wake— The waves grew strong and fleet; I passed by shoals of circumstance And quicksands of defeat! But little winds of coquetry Still kept our lives apart, Till in my cruise of love I reached The harbor of her heart! “Why does the woman Stand at the corner with her gaze fastened on a house in the center of the block?” “Because she sees a red sign on the house, and she thinks the place will suit her. Now she is walking down. Yes, she likes the location. It is handy to the cars, and people on either side look as if they would lend their flat-irons and washtubs.” “Does she ring the bell ?” “She doth. It is answered by a solid woman with a sort of nitric-acid eye.” “And after she has asked how much the rent is, and how many children the neighbors have, and what society can be looked for, and whether the landlord is willing to make repairs, what happens?” “Oh, nothing much. The solid woman draws herself up, shuts her teeth hard, and points to the sign and hisses: ‘ldiot! Can’t you read!’ ” “And then?” “And the other backs down the steps, and reads: ‘Scarlet fever here!’ ”