Rensselaer Republican, Volume 14, Number 1, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 22 September 1881 — JOCOSITIES. [ARTICLE]

JOCOSITIES.

Fe gased Into the Ms shot gun, Saying ligbtly, “Tta not loaded Then removed nia eye—bat not until 1 Tbe weapon bad exploded. Bbe gently seiaed tbe paraflln, , To stimulate the lire, And tbe tenor who bad loved her At the funeral led tbe choir. , Mias Jane, she was of fine pbisique, . in art she was a good critique. Her nose was Qriqne, Heir temper mique, But one of her eyes was quite oblique. ‘•My ma-ln-law at our last talk Kept getting maddor’n madder, \ ‘Till she busted a blood-ves-sl-al * And climbed tbs golden ladder." The watermelon In Ireland’s national emblem. It has the green above the red. The explosion of a can of baked beans in New* Jersey the other day shows where the Boston people get their energy. . 1 lowa headlines: “The Lurid Light* ning Leaps down from its Lofty Lair and Lays Low the LiviDg.” Fourteen Feel the Fierce Flashing of the Fatal Fluid.”

Lessons for young housekeepers: “How can you tell a young fowl from an old one?” “By the teeth.” By the teeth? But fowl rave no teeth!” “I know they havn’t, but I have.” There are people who don’t believe that editors earn their bread by the sweat of their brows, but if those peoSle could see us mopping the prespiraion off our desks with an old pair of linen Dan ts, after writing a poem on the “Warm Conclusion of the Bumble Bee,” they would change their minds. Four years ago a young man without a cent on his back, aud only one suit of olothes to his name, entered Denver and begged his supper. Last week he eloped with his employer’s wife and ten- thousand of his cash. Close application to coupled with pluck and industry wins every time. “Forward!” cried the eaptain. “For* ward there, Dennis McCarthy.” “Be aisy, CaDtain Soolivan.” said Dennis; “OI aiwlz was bashful from me youth, and shure, though Oi’m shpoiling to go into this foight, I would not be forward, don’t ye see. Oi think it’s your rear Oi’d be guarreding while yez go an,” Deacon Stiles—“l have a request to make of you, Brother Potts.” Brother Potto—“Happy to oblige you, if 1 can.” Deaoon Stiles—‘‘You kissed Mrs. 8. behind an elder bush at our last Sun-day-school picnic?” Brother Potts — “Yes.” Deacon Stiles—“ Well, don’t do it again, please, as it might breed a coolness between the two families. My mother-in-law objects.”