FACTITIA.
For the Table Book.
“Where is my Thermometer?”
In a certain town a certain military gentleman regulates his dress by a thermometer, which is constantly suspended at the back door of his house. Some wicked wag once stole the instrument, and left in its place the following lines:—
When ——n to Tartarus got,
That huge and warm gasometer!
“Good lord!” quoth he, “how wondrous hot!
O, where is my thermometer!”
Degradation of a Degree.
“Why,” said our friend T. Q. M. to Sally Listen, an old inhabitant of Wensleydale, “why do you call Mr. ——, doctor, when he has no title to such an appellation? he is only a quack!”—“Why,” said Sally, “I’ll call him naught else. What mun a body mister sic chaps as him for? Doctor’s good enough for sic blacks!”