MCXCV.—A WINDY MINISTER.
In one of our northern counties, a rural district had its harvest operations seriously affected by continuous rains. The crops being much laid, wind was desired in order to restore them to a condition fit for the sickle. A minister, in his Sabbath services, expressed their wants in prayer as follows:—"Send us wind, no a rantin', tantin', tearin' wind, but a noohin' (noughin?), soughin', winnin' wind." More expressive words than these could not be found in any language.
MCXCVI.—READY RECKONER.
The Duke of Wellington, when Premier, was the terror of the idlers in Downing Street. On one occasion when the Treasury clerks told him that some required mode of making up the accounts was impracticable, they were met with the curt reply: "Never mind, if you can't do it, I'll send you half-a-dozen pay sergeants that will,"—a hint that they did not fail to take.
MCXCVII.—A "DISTANT" FRIEND.
Meeting a negro on the road, a traveller said, "You have lost some of your friends, I see?"—"Yes, massa."—"Was it a near or a distant relative?"—"Well, purty distant,—'bout twenty-four mile," was the reply.
MCXCVIII.—TYPOGRAPHICAL WIT.
"Ho! Tommy," bawls Type, to a brother in trade,
"The ministry are to be changed, it is said."
"That's good," replied Tom, "but it better would be
With a trifling erratum."—"What?"—"Dele the c."
MCXCIX.—A NAMELESS MAN.
A gentleman, thinking he was charged too much by a porter for the delivery of a parcel, asked him what his name was. "My name," replied the man, "is the same as my father's."—"And what is his name?" said the gentleman. "It is the same as mine."—"Then what are both your names?"—"Why, they are both alike," answered the man again, and very deliberately walked off.