YANKEE MODESTY.-604.

I CANNOT bear egotism. I never like to praise myself; but, humanly speaking, I can double up any two men in these diggings, take the bark off a tree by looking at it, and bore a hole through a board fence with my eye. But I don't praise myself. I leave others to give my character.

A REBUKE.- -605.

A YANKEE, whose face had been mauled in a pot-house brawl, assured General Jackson that he had received his scars in battle. "Then," said Old Hickory, "be careful the next time you run away, and don't look back."

MONSTER PUNCH-BOWL.-606.

A KENTUCKIAN, on hearing praised the Rutland Punchbowl, which on the christening of the young Marquis was built so large that a small boat was actually set sailing upon it, in which a boy sat, who laddled out the liquor, exclaimed, "I guess I've seen a bowl that 'ud beat that to smash; for, at my brother's christening, the bowl was so deep, that when we young'uns said it warn't sweet enough, father sent a man down in a diving-bell to stir up the sugar at the bottom."

LONG LIVERS.-607.

THE people live uncommon long at Vermont. There are two men there so old that they have forgotten who they c.re, and there is nobody alive who can remember it for them.

REMARKABLE SKIPPER.-608.

It is said that there is a skipper in New York who has crossed the Atlantic so often that he knows every wave by sight.

courts.

YOUTH INDIGNANT.-609.

A LAD was subpoenaed as a witness in one of the American The judge said, "Put the boy upon evidence," upon hearing which young America exclaimed, "Who are you calling a boy? W'e chewed baccy these two years."

DANIEL WEBSTER.-610.

THE Salem Register tells this good story Daniel Webster was once standing in company with several other gentlemen in the Capitol at Washington, as a drove of mules were going past. "Webster," said one of the Southern gentlemen, “there go some of your constituents.” “Yes,” instantly replied Mr. Webster, “they are going South to teach school."

THANKS TO HIS HENS.-611.

A MAN in Missouri planted some beans late one afternoon, and next morning they were up-thanks to his hens.

CONFIDENCE NECESSARY.-612.

THE Boston Post says-"All that is necessary for the enjoyment of sausages is confidence."

PAINFUL NECESSITY.--613.

DURING the long drought of last summer, an American paper says, water became so scarce in a certain parish that the farmers' wives were obliged to send their milk to town genuine.

ANSWERED AT ONCE.-614.

+

AN American clergyman, preaching a drowsy sermon, asked, "What is the price of earthly pleasure?" The deacon, a fat grocer, woke up hastily from a sound sleep, and cried out lustily, "Seven and sixpence a dozen."

MORE COPY.--615.

ONCE in autumn, wet and dreary, sat this writer, weak and weary, pondering over a memorandum book of items used before-book of scrawling head notes, rather; items taking days to gather them in hot and sultry weather, using up much time and leather, pondered we those times o'er. While we conned them, slowly rocking (through our mind queer ideas flocking) came a quick and nervous knocking knocking at our sanctum door. Sure, that must be Jinks," we muttered-" Jinks that's knocking at

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our door; Jinks, the everlasting bore." Ah, well do we remind us, in the walls which then confined us, the "exchanges," lay behind us, and before us, and around us, all scattered o'er the floor. Thought we, "Jinks wants to borrow some papers till to-morrow, and 'twill be relief from sorrow to get rid of Jinks the bore, by opening wide the door.' Still the visitor kept knocking - knocking louder than before. And the scattered piles of papers, cut some rather curious capers, being lifted by the breezes coming through another door; and we wished (the wish was evil, for one deemed always civil) that Jinks was to the d-1, to stay there evermore; there to find his level -Jinks the nerve-unstringing bore. Bracing up our patience firmer, then, without another murmur, Mr. Jinks," said we, "your pardon, your forgiveness we implore. But the fact is, we were reading of some curious proceeding, and thus it was, unheeding your loud knocking there before." Here we opened wide the door. But phancy now our pheelins-for it wasn't Jinks the bore-Jinks, nameless, evermore! But the form that stood before us, caused a trembling to come o'er us, and memory quickly bore us back again to days of yore-days when items were in plenty, and where'er this writer went he picked up interesting items by the score. 'Twas the form of our "devil," in an attitude uncivil; and he thrust his head within the open door, with "The foreman's out o' copy, sir-he says he wants some more!" Yes, like Alexander, wanted "more." Now this "local" had already walked about till nearly dead-he had sauntered through the city till his feet were very sore-and walked through the street called Market, and the byways running off into the portions of the city, both public and obscure; had examined store and cellar, and had questioned every "feller" whom he met from door to door, if anything was stirring - any accident occurring-not published heretofore--and he had met with no success; he would rather guess he felt a little wicked at that ugly little bore, with the message from the foreman that he wanted " something more." Now, it's time you were departing, you scamp!" cried we, upstarting. "Get you back into your office-office where you were beforeor the words that you have spoken will get your bones all broken;" (and we seized a cudgel, oaken-that was lying on the floor); "take your hands out of your pockets, and leave the sanctum door; tell the foreman there's no copy,

you ugly little bore." Quoth the devil, "send him more." And our devil, never sitting, still is flitting, still is flitting, back and forth upon the landing, just outside the sanctum door. Tears adown his cheeks are streaming strange light from his eye is beaming-and his voice is heard, still crying, "Sir, the foreman wants some more." And our soul pierced with the screaming, is awakened from its dreaming, and has lost the peaceful feeling; for the fancy will come o'er us, that each reader's face before us, hears the horrid words-"We want a little more!"-Words on their foreheads glaring, "Your 'funny' column needs a little more!"

POPPING CORN.-616.

And there they sat a-popping corn,
John Stiles and Susan Cutter:
John Stiles as stout as any ox,
And Susan fat as butter.

And there they sat and shelled the corn,
And raked and stirred the fire,
And talked of different kinds of ears,
And hitched their chairs up nigher.

Then Susan she the popper shook,
Then John he shook the popper,
Till both their faces grew as red
As saucepans made of copper.

And then they shelled and popped and ate,
And kinks of fun a-poking,

And he haw-hawed at her remarks,
And she laughed at his joking.

And still they popped, and still they ate
(John's mouth was like a hopper),
And stirred the fire and sparkled salt,
And shook and shook the popper

The clock struck nine, the clock struck ten,
And still the corn kept poppin ; :

It struck eleven, and then struck twelve,
And still no signs of stopping.

And John he ate, and Sue she thought—
The corn did pop and patter,

Till John cried out: "The corn's a fire!
Why, Susan, what's the matter?"

Said she, "John Stiles, it's one o'clock;
You'll die of indigestion;

I'm sick of all this popping corn,
Why don't you Pop the Question ?”

POWERFUL SERMON.-617.

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JUDGE had noticed for some time that on Monday morning his Jamaica was considerably lighter than he had left it on Saturday night. Another fact had established itself in his mind. His son Sam was missing from the parental pew on Sundays. On Sunday afternoon, Sam came in and went up stairs very heavy, when the judge put the question to him: " Sam, where have you been?" To church, sir," was the prompt reply.- -"What church, Sam?" "Second Methodist, sir.""Had a good sermon, Sam?" Very powerful, sir; it quite staggered me." "Ah! I see," said the Judge, "quite powerful!" The next Sunday the son came home rather earlier than usual, and apparently not so much under the weather. His father hailed him with, "Well, Sam, been to the Second Methodist again to-day?" "Yes, sir." -"Good sermon, my boy?" "Fact was, father, that I couldn't get in; the church was shut up, and a ticket on the door."-" Sorry, Sam; keep going, you may get good by it yet." Sam says that on going to the office for his usual refreshment, he found the "John" empty, and bearing the following label :-"There will be no service here to-day; the church is temporarily closed."

HUGGING.-618.

AN editor in Iowa has been fined two hundred dollars for hugging a girl in church.--Early Argus. Cheap enough! We once hugged a girl in church some ten years ago, and it has cost a thousand a year ever since.-Chicago Young American.