A Circuitous Route.
We know several folks who have a way of beating round and boxing the compass, from A to Z, and back again, that fairly knocks us into smithereens. One of these characters came to us the other day, and in a most mysterious manner, with the utmost earnestness, solemnity, and hocus pocus, says he—
"Cap'n, (winking,) I wanted to see you—(two winks;) the fact of the business is, (wink, nod, and double wink,) I've wanted to see you, badly; you see, I-a—well, what I-a (two winks)—was about to remark (two nods and a short cough),—that is to say, it don't make much matter, if-a—(wink, wink, wink;) you see it was in this way, I-a—wanted to—a, to tell you that (dreadful lot of winks) I've been—not, to be sure, that it's an uncommon-a thing, (nod, cough, and forty winks,) but no doubt if I-a—the fact is—"
"Well, what in thunder and rosin is the fact, old boy?" says we.
"The fact is, cap'n, I'd a told you at once, but-a—I don't know why I—shouldn't tho', (wink on wink,) have you got two shillings you won't want to use to-day?"
We hadn't!
Major Blink's First Season at Saratoga.
"Ha, ha!" said Uncle Joe Blinks, as the subject of summer travel, a jaunt somewhere, was being discussed among the regular boarders in Mrs. Bamberry's spacious old-fashioned parlors; "Ha! ha! ha! ladies, did Mrs. Bamberry ever tell you of my tour to Saratogy Springs?—last summer was two years."