Rensselaer Republican, Volume 13, Number 50, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 1 September 1881 — JOCOSITIES. [ARTICLE]

JOCOSITIES.

Somebody calls ice-cream a “feast of free-zin.” j Nothing vulgar about the miller, when he bolts his meat . t Eve was the first of her race to feel shocked at the bare idea. A bright little maid who wasftollcky Made th e Bweet est green leav ps on maj ollca. Bat she swallowed some paint, And now she's a saint, After being an boar pale and colicky. Believe me, if all those endearing young charms Which I gazed on so fondly to-day, Were discovered encased in another man's Do youVhink 1 would caper away? Ch, no! by the sword of my parent grim, I swear that I’d venture a swoop, And in aperlod brief you’d be wishing with That you’d perished in youth with the croup. Lady Lodger—“ Your dog is unbearable, sir. He howls all night.” Male Lodger—“lndeed! Well, he might do worse than that—he might play the piano all day!” “Mamie,” said he: and his voice was singularly low, “will you be my wile? Will you cling to me as the tender vine clings to the—” “ Yes, I’ll catch on,” said she. It is said that kerosene will remove stains from furniture. It has also been known to remove furniture, stains and all, with a stove and a red-headed servant thrown in oftimes. -Billy’s little sister had fallen and hurt her nose, and she cried a great deal over it. Hearing her mother tell her to be careful lest she might spoil it next time, he said: “What’s* the good of a nose to her! She never blows it,” A bride complained to her husband that she had been too busy all day to get off her feet once, and that unhappy man, who had already discovered several surprising “make-ups” in her tout ensemble, exclaimed in amazement: “Great Jerusalem crackers! do they come off too?” “You should have seen the situation of her lips,” said the young clerk, enthusiastically. “The situatian?” began his friend. ‘‘Yes, the situation of her lips.” “What did you do?” “I grasped the situation. That’s what I did. In fact, I grasped the situation several times before I left. “No-no,” he said, “I didn’t mind having that Newfoundland dog run between my legs. But when that contemptable son rof a swamp angel whistled to the dog as he was half way through and made him turn round suddenly to go back, it raised the inferal regions with me and I was mad.” The Ashantee of Africa, when be drinks, spills a little of liquor on the ground as an offering to the gods. It is a ridiculous, heathenish custom, and will never obain in civilized communities. In this country, if the gods were to be set up on their hind legs and howl twenty seven hours a day, a whisky drinker wouid not spill any on the ground to appease them—not as long he was sober enough to pour all the stuff down his throat.