Varieties.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 574, 23 March 1870, Page 3

Varieties.

A young lady, who has been tried in the State of Alabama for firing a pistol at her false lover as he waa escorting another fair one to churcb, was . acquitted on the ground tbat there was no malice, but, on the contrary, an excest of love I " v\ hat do you know of the character of this man?" was asked of a witness at a police-court the other day. " What db I know of his character ? I know it to be unreachable, yer honour," replied he, with emphasis. A story is told of a farmer who, having bought his first barometer, was more puzzled than instructed by its movements. When the sky was overcast and tbe rain falling in torrents, the index-band pointed to ''set fair." Losing all patience, be took the instrument into the open air, and exclaimed, " now will you not believe your own eyeß ?" PoNcruAUTr. — It may seem of little moment to be punctual, but to use the words of an eminent theologian, " our life is made up of little things." Our attention to them is the index of our character, of ten the scales by which it is weighed. Punctuality requires I no undue exertion, and its influence is a most salutary one. Its cultivation seems the more important ns we witness the deleterious influence of dilatoriness in habit, the evil effect of which none deny. "Better late than never," transformed into "better never late," is an ex ellent maxim. Whether we move in the higher walks of life, or tread the quiet paths cf humble pursuits, punctuality amply repays us for what little effort we make in its cultivation. In Suffolk, black puddings made in guts are called links. Once when George the Second landed at Har wick, it was so dark by the time he reached Copeluck that lights were thought necessary : the harbinger

going before enquired of the landlady of the inn if she had any flambeaux, or could procure any ? Being answered in the negative, !he asked her if she had any links ? " Aye, that I have/said she),' aud some as good as ihis Majesty, God bless him, ever ate in all ■his life I" A steamboat captain on one -of the American lakes was recently feeling his way along in the dark, when, the look-out ahead .cried out, " Schooner without a light.'.' It was a narrow escape ; and as the steamer passed the schoonor the captain demanded, " What are you doing with your schooner here in the dark without a light ? "To his dismay, the skipper, who was a Frenchman, answered, " Vat ze dibble you-do here viz your ole steamboat in three feet of water, eh ? " and just then the steamer landed high and dry on a sand-bank.