Democratic Sentinel, Volume 10, Number 8, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 26 March 1886 — HAPPY AS A KING. [ARTICLE]

HAPPY AS A KING.

From trifles our pleasures in life often spring. The smallest thing happiness renders. And every man feels as proud as a king In a pair of embroidered suspenders. —Boston Courier.

Smythe kins is trying to arouse the courage of his better half, who has recently lost her pet parrot and is overcome with grief: “Come, come! What the deuce. Be a man, my dear! Suppose you had lost me!”— New York Mail.

Clara—“ What nonsense they do talk about trade and people in trade not being really aristocratic and all that. ” Mabel—“ Yes, I know, dear, and yet I am always glad that papa’s store has no retail department. Trade does seem common,after all. ” — Chicago Rambler. A Cleveland (O.) man is before the courts charged with stealing his own sister. There have been cases where some other fellow’s sister was stolen, but this is a much rarer happening. The Judge is reported as “puzzled!” One would think he might be.— New Haven Palladium.

“What is the meaning of the words, ‘De mortuis nil nisi bonum ?’ ” asked Johnny Fizzletop of his father. “It means, my son, that, when a man closes both eyes, the public is expected to close one eye at least to whatever wrongs he may have committed while he was alive.— Texas Siftings. “Is the King of Wurtemberg coming over here to lecture, or sing, or anything?” asked Le Diggs. “Not that I know of,” replied De Wiggs. “Why?” “I see that he has just told a newspaper correspondent that he loves Americans, and that is a bad symptom, you know.” “So it is.”— Pittsburg Chronicle.

Office Boy (to country editor) —“A man was in while you were out wh,o said he was the genuine John Wilkes Booth.” Editor(hastily)—“He’s a fraud. You didn’t give him anything, did you?” Office Boy—“ No. He left a dollar for six months’ subscription. ” Editor—“ Well, well. And so John Wilkes Booth is still alive. It beats all. ” Chicago Rambler.

“Mr. Trialbalance,” said Old Hyson to the bookkeeper, “you were away two days last week. ” “I was Mr. Hyson ; I was summoned suddenly to atitend the funeral of my grandmother.” “Ah, yes,” said the merchant—“quite right, quite right. Accept my condolences. Did you bury the old lady ?” “Yes, sir.” “Ah, yes; buried her. I thought from your breath you had embalmed her.” (Loud and long-contin-ued silence.) — Brooklyn Eagle.

IMAGINE MY SURPRISE. I saw a maiden with soulful eyes; We met upon the street. She slipped and fell—the treacherous ice— I helped her to her feet. I was in love, way down in love; My heart was all aglow. She was the fairest being that I’d ever seen, you know. She blushed and thought to thank me, but, My Ca? Bar, when she said; “The next time, sir, I’d thank you much To turn your horrid head. ’’ —Louisville Courier-Journal.

A German writer says: “Humor is the endsemonological pessimism which includes within itself the teleological evolutionary optimism which may cause a truly, that is to say, an at once realistic, radical and universal reconciliation to appear as possible.” We have often noticed that, but we never permit any of that sort of stuff to paralyze our paragraphs if we can help it.—Norristown Herald.