If the leech will not bite, bind him apprentice to a broker for a week, and his teeth will become so sharp that he will bite through the bottom of a brass kettle.
LACONIC.—588.
"Hillo, master," said a Yankee to a teamster, who appeared in something of a hurry, "What time is it?—Where are you going?—How deep is the creek?—And what is the price of the butter?" "Past one, almost two—home—waist deep—and elevenpence," was the reply.
AIDS TO MEMORY.—589.
A paper publishes a story in which it is stated that a man who came very near drowning had a wonderful recollection of every event which had occurred during his life. There are a few of our subscribers whom we would recommend to practice bathing in deep water.
SIMMONS ON LIFE.—590.
"What is the use of living?" asked Jack Simmons the other day. "We are flogged for crying when we are babies, flogged because the master is cross when we are boys, obliged to toil, sick or well, or starve, when we are men, to toil still harder when we are husbands, and after exhausting life and strength in the service of other people, die, and leave our children to quarrel about the possession of father's watch, and our wives to catch somebody else."
CUTE EXPEDIENT.—591.
There was a law in Boston against smoking in the street. A down-easter strutted about the city one day, puffing at a cigar. Up walked the constable. "Guess your smokin'," he said. "You'll pay two dollars, stranger." "I ain't smokin'," was the quick response, "try the weed yourself; it ain't alight." The constable took a pull at the cigar, and out came a long puff of white smoke. "Guess you'll pay me two dollars," said the down-easter, quietly. "Wal," replied the constable, "I calc'late you're considerable sharp. S'pose we liquor."