MISCELLANEA.

North Otago Times, Volume IV, Issue 79, 24 August 1865, Page 3

MISCELLANEA.

It h Baid that Mrs Tom Thumb may increase the number of the human race by a small item ere long. "Mother, I shouldn't wonder if onr Susan gets choked some day."- " Why, my son ?"— " Because John Wipsy twisted his arms round her neck the other night, and if she had not kissed him to lot her go, he would have strangled her." - A Little too Blunt.— (A scene in a cheap inn.)— Hungry Customer— '* Here, waiter, bring me another carving knife. 1 can't cut anything with this villanous thing."— Honest Waiter— "Beg pardon, sir, but we never sharpen the knives for a shilling ordinary." The Last "Little Story." There is a melancholy pleasure in recalling the genial humor of the late President. His anecdotes were a fund of wit and wisdom in themselves. He is said to have told his last " little story" in Richmond. While seated in the pailor of the lato Confederate President, some one related to him the circumstance of Davis' flight. He said it reminded him of the negro who, when the preacher told the congregation there weie only two roads, the one leading to heaven and the other to damnation, exclaimed— "Den dis nigger take to de woods !" How to Get Out of a Difficulty.— An M.P., who owned extensive estates, and possessed a considerable personal celebrity, was spending a few days at the residence of a noble family. There were several interesting and accomplished young ladies in the family, to whom the honorable member, as in duty bound, paid every attention. Just as he was about to take his leave, the nobleman s wife proceeded to consult him in a matter which, she alleged, was causing her no little distress. It is reported," said the Countess, " that you are to marry my daughter L , and what shall we do ?— what shall we say about it ?" " Oh," quietly responded the considerate M.P., "just say she refused me!"— Court Journal. v The Authoress of "John Halifax "—A correspondent of the "Inverneas Courier" says that the husband of this lady is not Professor Craik, of Glasgow, as reported ; but a nephew, who bears the same name as the Professor. The " Courier" adds : — " The circumstances alluded to by our correspondent are interesting, and savpr somewhat of romance. A few years ago a railway | accident occurred veiy near London. ' Mr Craik was one of the passengers, and was severely injured. Previous to this time he had been an enthusiastic admirer of Miss Mu'ock, who was a friend of his father's. He gave her address to the railway officials, and was carried to her house at Hampstead. There he had one of his legs amputated, and ho remained till convalescent under the lady's roof. She was joined by some of his relatives in nuising and watching over him with assiduous tenderness and care, and such kindness increased the admiration of the young man tbwards the fair authoress*. Ever afterwards he was a constant suitor for her hand. On account of some dispaiity in years, Miss M. long resisted, but at 1-ngth, adding another proof to the correctness of the sentiment of Collins, that 'pity melts the soul to love,' she reciprocated the attachment, filling her grateful admirer's cup of happiness." As the funeial'pageant of Lincoln was passing Cham-bers-street, New York, a fine St. Bernard dog suddenly bounded from the side of his owner, and ran under the funeral car, where he quietly walked along until the train reached the terminal point. This cuiious performance is explained by the fact that the dog is said to havo known Lincoln well, having frequently been caressed by hin, and was with him the day before he died. The rage for frogs is growing in Paris. Alsace sends them to the capital in huge baskets, into which it would be unpleasant for most people to thrust their white hands, although there is little compunction shown in skinning them alive, and less in eating them. It seems that the right colour isa beautiful green, which leduces them more than ever to the reptile appearance. A troop of the 9th Lancers is to be located in Belfast during the ensuing month, lest the Orangemen should cause an outbreak there. It is not long sincu the grand master of their body, in a special address, besought them to keep the peace on the occasion of the approaching anniversaries ; but the Government exhibit much wisdom in not lelying upon this appeal to prevent disturbances. The Lancers, with a large body of police, will prove moie efficacious. Pleasant Practice. — Monsieur L , the famous scenepainter, bad a fancy that he could cure all diseases, and, accordingly, prescribed liberally for his friends and others willing to come under his hands. A person of great faith applied to him for the cure of a very bad cold, and Monsieur L — 's ndvice was — " Do you see, sare, can you like to drink bran-tea ?" — " Brandy," replied the patient, nothing loth to find such a palatable medicine hinted, as he imagined, " certainly, 1 have no objection to do it whatever." — " Vy, den," said L , *' bran-tea is the very thing for you. Take tree, four — yes, four cups of it as hot as you can soop— good, big teacups, just after breakfast."—" "What sir !" asked the patient, rather amazed, "without water?" — "Vidout vater !" said L , " vat do you mean ? No more vater than is in the bran-tea when made. Take it as you got it. Take four large, very large coops, between breakfast and dinner; and ven you find a change for better or vorse, come to me." The faith of the patient was great, and so was his swallow. For five days he stuck to what he thought was the prescription of the painter— was, of course, drunk all day— and at the conclusion of his exertions in this way, he came back to L , full of gratitude for his advice. "I am quite cured, Monsieur L ," said he; "I never imagined brandy was so complete a cure ; I feel quite obliged." — " Ob yes," said L , " I was sure it would cure you — you felt quite cool all the time you was taking it 1" — " Cool ?" said the patient ; " no, not exactly cool. I was rather hot. Zounds, no man can drink a quart of spirits in a forenoon and keep cool."— *' Spirits !" said L •, rather astonished. " Vy, there is no spirits in tea made of bran, sare." — "Tea made of bran!" said his friend. "It was hot brandy I drank." An explanation, of course, followed— the gentleman, however, was cured.