WIT AND HUMOUR.

Evening Post, Volume XVIII, Issue 5, 5 July 1879, Page 1 (Supplement)

WIT AND HUMOUR.

A patent medicine man posted handbills in every available spot in the village yesterday morning, and before night 15 goats had enough medical information in them to run an eclectic college. A Classical Error. — The late lamented Lampriere tells ua that Io was changed into a heifer ; but we have lately gleaned from a doctor's prescription the following p'ece of information respecting the end of that young person : " 10-dide of potassium." The Real Test.— Plato says that philosophy consoles a man in all trials, but we would have Meed to see Plato chasing a lawn-mower about his front yard and trying to produce a pleasing impression on the pretty girl across the way about the time the machine struck a stone and the handte took him in the pit of the stomach A suitor who recently lost a case in the Queen's Bench through tho ignorance, as he asserts, of his solicitor, always alludes to the latter individual when he speaks of him as "Old Necessity." Asked to explain this appellation, he answered, "Well, I call him Necessity, you see, because, as you perhaps may have heard, Necessity knows no law !" — Fun. Miss Dods' cooking lecture, the other evening Lady soliloquizing : " Now that sh' 'a got it cooked, 1 wish she'd tell us how to use up cold mutton " Next lady overhears and remarks : ' I have pome infallible recipes." First lady, alert with pencil and notebook : " Will you please favor me?" "Six boys !"— PhilidelphU Bulletin. "In the second eermon I ever preached from tbafc text, ' A mess of pottage,' I got it, * A pot of message,' and the worst of it was that I kept repeating the blunder all through the sermon, to the intense amusement of tbe congregation, and some impairment, I fear, of the lesson of the discourse. The devil seemed to be on my tongue, and I Bpoke the text wrong, in spite of myself, almost every time. I grew hot as a furnace ; I perspired to my finger emU ;my face was like a beet ; and when I came to that awful text I would make a great pause, fix my lips right, and then to my intense mortification, say, ' A pot of message !' I was in agony. Finally, I ceased to try to pronounce it, but only said 'my text' — pointing at it." — Talmage. A Battle-seamed Warrior. — The sanguinary experience, related in the following, come 3 from a Virginia gentleman. " Here is a good satire," he writes, " upon the custom that prevails in this state (Virginia) of bestowing a military title upon any person who can establish the remotest claim to it. Some time ago I had the following conversation with a Virginian ' colonel,' an elderly gentlemen belonging, of course, to one of the first families. He was a man of great intelligence, of a very jovial turn, and had withal such a keen sense of humor that he enjoyed a joke none the less because it happened to be at his own expense. I said to him, ' Colonel, did you Bee much service during the war?' 1 Oh, no ; I was not in the army at all. I had passed the military age before the war begun.' 'Ah, then you served in 1812?, 1 No, sir ; that time it was just the other way — I was too young then.' ' I suppose, then, you were a colonel of volunteers in the Mexican war ?' ' You are wrong again, sir. I never^was in Mexico.' 'Oh, I see how it is. You were a militia colonel during the piping times of peace ?' ' No, Bir ; I never served in the militia ' • Well, then, will you please tell me how on earth you got your title of colonel V ' Why, that's very easily explained. You see, there used to be, before the war, a law imposing a fine for not attending the militia masters. And they made me a colonel on account of my promptness in paying the fine.'"