A SIMILE.—464.
A jeweller in Philadelphia advertises that he has a number of precious stones to dispose of, adding that they sparkle like the tears of a young widow.
FIVE OUTS AND ONE IN.—465.
A poor Yankee, upon being asked the nature of his distress, replied that he had "five outs and one in:" to wit, "out of money and out of clothes; out at the heels and out at the toes; out of credit, and in debt."
SAM SLICK'S DESCRIPTION OF A TEETOTALLER.—466.
I once travelled through all the States of Maine with one of them air chaps. He was as thin as a whippin' post. His skin looked like a blown bladder, after some of the air has leaked out—kinder wrinkled and rumpled like; and his eye as dim as a lamp that's livin' on a short allowance of ile. He put me in mind of a pair of kitchen tongs—all legs, shaft, and head, and no belly; real gander-gutted lookin' crittur; as holler as a bamboo walking-cane, and twice as yaller. He actilly looked as if he had been picked off a raft at sea, and dragged through a gimlet hole.
ECLIPSING HIMSELF.—467.
A Virginian tavern keeper going down to his wine cellar, by mistake went down his own throat. He did not discover the error he had committed until the candle he carried was blown out by the first inspiration he took. He described it as being very difficult to find his way up again in the dark.