Odds and Ends.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 219, 20 November 1875, Page 3

Odds and Ends.

Mr S. W. Look, of Chicago, having sent the pet clergyman of his parish four gold dollars on the day of his marriage, the gratified gentleman wished him, per note, a long and happy life, trusting that he may never And in this world that “ too many cooks spoil the broth.”

Treble X.—A gentleman, in addressing the charming Lady X., who lias just remarried in Paris for the third time, said reproachfully. “ You do not come to London any longer?” ‘‘Oh, yes,” she replied in a most natural manner, “I always pass my widowhoods there.”

An old lady in New York particularly desired that a certain cushion on which she sat in church should be buried with her, and as there was a difficulty in getting it into her coflin, it was proposed to cut it, when several thousand dollars in greenbacks were found inkle.

An elderly female, on being examined before magistrates as to her place of legal settlement, was asked what reasons she had for supposing that her deceased husband's settlement was at St Andrews. The old lady, looking at the bench, said, “lie was born and married there, and they buried him there, and if that isn't settling him there, I don’t know what is.”

When a man hands an editor an article for publication, and asks him to insert it, because he “ wrote it in a hurry." and “ hadn't time to revise it,” the editor is certain the writer commenced the article directly after supper, and wrestled with it until after midnight, re-writing it fourteen times, destroying a quire of foolscap, and “blessed” his pen every ten minutes. That’s the way they generally write an article when they are “in a lmrry,” and have “no time to revise it.” A spinster lady went to pay her respects to one of the latest arrivals on the list of babyhood, when the following colloquy took place between her and the little four-year-old sister of the new comer : “ I've come for that baby now,” said the lady, who wished to be facetious. “ You can’t have it,” was the reply. “ But I must ; I came over on purpose,” urged the visitor. “Wo can’t spare it at all,” persisted the child ; “ hut I’ll get a piece of paper, and you can cut a pattern, and get one of your own.” Mark Twain went to a great base-ball match at Hartford recently, and lost his umbrella, for which he advertised as follows “ Two Hundred and Five Dollars Reward—At the great base-ball match on Tuesday, while I was engaged in hurrahing, a small boy walked off with an English-made brown silk umbrella belonging to me, and forgotto bring it back I will pay five dollars for the return of that umbrella in good condition to my house, on Farmington Avenue. I do not want the boy (in an active state), but will pay two hundred dollars for his remains.—Samuel I. Clemens.”

A colored judge at Nashville has got into a little trouble; he recently fined a woman six dollars, and when she paid, he seized the coin, and exclaimed, “ Fanny, dis money jes squares de ’count you owed to me. I’ll freeze to it.” In vain the plaintiff objected to such a course, and called the judge an “old thief.” Mr Butler was not only inexorable, but absolutely violent; for, getting down from the judgment seat, be struck the lady in the mouth, knocked out some of her teeth, and finished by kicking her into the street. The local newspaper remarks that “ his decision will be appealed against.”

Peter Macnally, an Irish attorney, was very lame, and when walking had an unfortunate limp, which he could not bear to be told of. At the time of the Rebellion he was seized with military ardor, and when the different volunteer corps were forming in Dublin, that of the lawyers was organised. Meeting with Curran, Macnally said, “ My dear friend, these.

are not times to he idle ; l am determined to enter the lawyers’ corps, and follow the camp." “Tut, tut, renounce the idea ; you can never bo a disciplinarian.” “And why not, Mr Curran?” inquired Macnally. “ For this reason,” said Curran ; “the moment you were ordered to march you would halt.”

About six months ago a literary couple hoarding together at a Chicago hotel concluded to marry, and last week the following scrap of matrimonial talk between them was overheard;—-She- “ You lacerate my soul with your vulgar sneers.” lie “ You have a superhuman power for evil over my sensitive nature.”

The following is from an American paper “ At Modesto, April 2, William Dona, who killed John Connelly last December, was executed at seven minutes past one o'clock. He dropped five and a-half feet, and died in sixteen minutes. He made no remarks.” It would have been very surprising if he had. To Avoid Valuations.— Semblins overheard two scientific gentleman in a private conversation. One says, “ Doc., I see you have your shingle out as a regular family physician ; how is that? 1 thought you were intending to practise the veterinary.” “Well, I’ll tell you, Colonel: I did practise at that, and expected to keep on at it; but it’s so awkward, .sometimes, you know; a valuable horse dies on your hands, and there’s a devlisli sight of talk about it—everybody speculates upon what the horse was worth, and how he might have been saved ; and there’s a chance for a suit of_ damages—malpractice, and all that; but in this family physician line, if a child slips the hooks, or sombodv’s wife or mother-in-law dies, the ground is dug up and turned over on the whole store, and there's none of that foolisli talk.

There lias been a contest between the lowa newspapers as to which can turn out the tallest and slimmest man in the State. After some smart competition the palm was finally awarded to C. Sanborn, Esq. The following is an accurate description of Mr Sanborn’s appearance “Mr Sanborn stands 7ft. J.'r inches high, weighs JSlbs., and is so thin that a prayer inscribed on a tliree-cent piece can be read through Ins body by the light of a tallow candle with the greatest ease. He was never known to cast a shadow ami is so airy and transparent that lie can lie down and go to sleep on the hank of a heavy fog. ” Ax American paper rather sleepily says it was a curious tiling recently to see a horse in lowa pull the plug out of the bung-hole of a barrel and slake his thirst. JY edo not see anything extraordinary in the occurrence. If the horse had pulled the barrel out of the bung-hole and slaked its thirst with the plug or if the barrel had pulled the bung-hole out of the’plug and slaked its thirst with the horse, or if the plug had pulled the horse out of the barrel and slaked its thirst with the bung hole, or if the bung-hole had pulled the thirst out of the horse and slaked its plug with the barrel, or if the barrel had pulled tiie horse out of the bung-hole and plugged its thirst with a slake, it might be worth while to make a fuss over it. Josh Billings has become sentimental on the honey bee. _ He sent the following to the last spelling be in his locality “The hunny bee is about 10 times tiie size of the lious filv—l never meazured them—they won’t stand still long enuff, but i think i hav got their dimenslmns about right. If i hav made blunder in this matter, i am ready to repent and be forgiven for it. Hunny bees are built with a sting, which is quicker than a ghost when a good bizziness chance offers : but i never knu one to use it just for the devilry of the thing. Hunny bees have a queen, but never a king ; this iz a grate konipliment to the sex and iz an argument for “Wimmin’s Rights.” I luv the hunny bees bekauze they are allwuss bizzy, and hava stinger allwuss hot and reddy for the lazy.”

The Wav of Saying it.— lt is related of Mrs. biddons that once, when dining at the country seat of a friend, she frightened out of his wits a servant ■iu’j when • 0n th . e P° int of handing her the butter, withdrew it quickly, saying, “ Excuse me for a moment, madam—there’s a fly on the butter." To winch the great actress, assuming a look and tone of intense horror, exclaimed, “Aliy, say ye! How gat it there ? Something of the same sort comes to us fresh from Rome of her niece, Fanny Kemble, of whose withering speeches to indiscreet persons many dmll stories are told in society. One of the drollest is this A meek young man was presented to her, and unluckily opened the conversation with, “ Bir ! 1 have no hotels in America!” she replied, in, ameasured, contemptuous voice, that caused the young man to retreat with alacrity. Mark Twain, in a letter to the inventor of a mosquito net, talks in this way about the only thing worth talking about, now that the third term is gone : . There is nothing that a just and right-feeling man rejoices in more than to see a mosquito imposed on and put down and brow-beaten and aggravated, and this ingenious contrivance will do it. And it is a rare thing to worry a fly with, too. A fly will stand off and curse this invention till language utterly fails him. I have seen them do it hundreds of times. I like to dine in the air on the back porch in summer, and so I would not be without this portable net for anything. AY hen you get it hoisted the flies have to wait for the second table. AVe shall see the summer day come when we shall sit under our nets in church and slumber peacefully, while the discomfited flies club together and take it out of the minister. There are heaps of ways of getting priceless enjoyment out of these charming things, if I had time to point them out and dilate on them a little.”