Mr. Redpath applied to Mr. Warner, author of “My Summer in a Garden,” to enter the lecturing field. The genial author replied that there was less prospect now than ever of his consenting to do so. “It seems to me,” he wrote, “that the older I grow, the wiser I grow.”
The Six-Mile House, on the San Bruno Road, is the favourite calling place on the road. No one ever thinks of passing without stopping to have a word with Harry Blanken.
Twenty-eight different kinds of “bitters” sold in Rhode Island for “strictly medicinal use” are undergoing analysis by the State Chemist from an excise point of view.
This is the best part of the paper at the present time, and the best part of this—that is, the most original—is formed by the advertisements. There must now and again be a great run upon that edition of “Joe Miller” the proprietor keeps in his room, when the “exchanges” refuse to give out new or second-hand humorous paragraphs. We will conclude this section of our cousins’ peculiarities with the following, picked out from a Boston sheet, where it was nestled close by the biggest of the advertisements:—
Keep on Advertising.
Don’t fear to have a small advertisement by the side of a larger competing one. The big one can’t eat it up.
Which, freely translated, means, “Keep on advertising, and don’t be afraid. We’ll take you, big or little, so long as you have the money, and of course we’re quite disinterested.”