Varieties.

Western Star, Issue 281, 25 January 1879, Page 7

Varieties.

Joseph GHllon, an Edinburgh wit of the early part of the present century was asked if he thought that a certain young advocate of the Liberal'party “ would rise.” “J Oh, yes,” said Joseph, “I’ll be bound he will—at the general rising!” An Irishman having arrived from Dublin at the house of a respectable merchant in the.borough, and having left Ireland three weeks before brought with him a basket of eggs ; his friend asked him why he took the trouble to bring eggs from Ireland to England. “ Because,” said lie, “ I am fond of them now laid, and I knew these to be so.” An old Irish soldier, who prided himself upon his bravery, said he had fought in the battle of Bu'l Eun. When asked if he had retreated and made good his escape as others did on that famous occasion, he replied : “ be jabers, those that didn’t run are there yit!” The schoolmaster “ teaing” with bis three children at a friend’s house. Friend ; “ Pass the butter, Johnny.” Johnny (mechanically) : “Butter, common noun, singular number, neuter gender, objective case, agreeing with bread.” Sensation ! Our little Jennie religiously believes that the babies come from heaven by a sort of celestial express. The other day she was called in to see a newly-born babe which lay very still among th« flannels. “ Poor little thing,” said Jennie, “ tired coming so far, isn’t it ?” The following is from a school inspection:— The Inspector asked young Nokcs what a transparent object was. “ A body you can see through,” was the reply. “ Very well; give me an example,? * l A pane of glass sir.” “ Eight! Now, Atkins, you give me another example.” “A keyhole, sir.” A Solemn Warning.—Careful physicians, who have thoroughly investigated the matter, say that writing on both sides of the paper will predispose the system to diplheria and bronchitis, and is one of the primary causes of that disease. We trust our correspondents, especially those who write' poetry and politics, will remember this. Awfully Cruel. —Says an American exchange : —How busy is death in our Midst! Every lime we catch sight of the head line, “ Death of a Millionaire,” we catch our breath with a convulsive grasp and press our nervous hand on our anxious heart to still the tremulous fluttering, . until our apprehensive eyes can look further on, and see that it is not some uear and dearly loved relative that has passed away. It is cruel to * head a death notice in such an ambigious manner,