Having been obliged, owing to the violence of the storm, to relinquish his hold of the main-mast our sea-faring friend was washed overboard, but rescued by Landlubbers, who conveyed him home in an Agricultural Cart, which he imagined was the life-boat, and tried to impress upon the driver that “Veshel musht be shaved—val-ble cargo aboardsh. Whyshnot dishplay Shignals of Dishtresh?”
STILL IN THE SHAFTS.
Mr. Longfoot (to disagreeable friend, who has tried to destroy the reputation of his new Horse).—You said he would never make a Hunter, and that he was only fit for Harness. Why, he carries me splendidly!
Disagreeable Friend.—Yes, no doubt he carries you well; he sees those feet of yours, and thinks he’s still in the shafts.
A VERY OLD AND CURIOUS VINTAGE.
First “Old Varmint.”—They tell me you are the oldest Foxhunter going? Now, I don’t think you are; I have hunted with the H—— sixty-five years.