A BOUNCER.
"What a splendid jumper your little dog is, Sammie," said Mr. Hicks.
"Well, he ought to be," said Sammie. "He swallowed a rubber ball last week."
Floods in lowland countries have their humorous side as well as their tragic ones. A gentleman recently returned from the West relates a little experience he had with a swollen river in Missouri. The country had been a veritable swamp for some days, and after travelling through it on horseback for a week doing business here and there, he says he arrived at the bank of the river. There was no way to cross it except by swimming, so, dismounting, he tied his clothes to the horse, and drove him into the river, swimming after him. Reaching the other side, he dressed and continued on his way. Before going twenty feet, however, he came to the forks of the road, and not knowing the correct direction he wanted to go, he looked around for a sign. There was none, but just across the river, near the spot he had entered to swim across, he saw a board nailed on a tree. Well, there was nothing to do but to get in and swim across again, as undoubtedly that was the sign containing the directions. He swam across, and after climbing up the bank he read the following notice:
"Five dollars fine for crossing this bridge faster than a walk."
He says that under the circumstances the sarcasm of that sign put him in bad humor for the rest of the day.
In the rush and crush of business in the general post-office the other day an Irishman's answer was heard that is worth repeating. It was at the general-delivery window, and the Irishman was poor, and a typical son of the sod. He had applied for a letter.
"Letter? All right, sir. What name?"
The Irishman gave his name, but the clerk, not catching it, asked,
"How do you spell it?"
"Spell it!" answered the Irishman. "Shure, if a foine smart clerk loike you can't spell it, how d'ye think a poor man loike me can?"