Judge —— had noticed for some time that on Monday morning his Jamaica was considerably lighter than he had left it on Saturday night. Another fact had established itself in his mind. His son Sam was missing from the parental pew on Sundays. On Sunday afternoon, Sam came in and went up stairs very heavy, when the judge put the question to him: "Sam, where have you been?" "To church, sir," was the prompt reply.—"What church, Sam?" "Second Methodist, sir."—"Had a good sermon, Sam?" "Very powerful, sir; it quite staggered me."—"Ah! I see," said the Judge, "quite powerful!" The next Sunday the son came home rather earlier than usual, and apparently not so much under the weather. His father hailed him with, "Well, Sam, been to the Second Methodist again to-day?" "Yes, sir."—"Good sermon, my boy?" "Fact was, father, that I couldn't get in; the church was shut up, and a ticket on the door."—"Sorry, Sam; keep going, you may get good by it yet." Sam says that on going to the office for his usual refreshment, he found the "John" empty, and bearing the following label:—"There will be no service here to-day; the church is temporarily closed."
HUGGING.—618.
An editor in Iowa has been fined two hundred dollars for hugging a girl in church.—Early Argus. Cheap enough! We once hugged a girl in church some ten years ago, and it has cost a thousand a year ever since.—Chicago Young American.
TART.—619.
Mr. Mewins was courting a young lady of some attractions, and something of a fortune into the bargain. After a liberal arrangement had been made for the young lady by her father, Mr. Mewins, having taken a particular fancy to a little brown mare, demanded that it should be thrown into the bargain; and, upon a positive refusal, the match was broken off. After a couple of years the parties accidentally met at a country ball. Mr. Mewins was quite willing to renew the engagement. The lady appeared not to have the slightest recollection of him. "Surely you have not forgotten me," said he.—"What name, sir?" she inquired. "Mewins," he replied; "I had the honour of paying my addresses to you, about two years ago." "I remember a person of that name," she rejoined, "who paid his attentions to my father's brown mare."
WHO FIDDLED.—620.
In the Pennsylvania Legislature, two years ago, there was a member named Charlie Wilson, from one of the Northern frontier counties, who considered himself among the great orators of the day, and, when pretty well filled with "Harrisburg water," would get off for the edification of his colleagues some very rich illustrations. Being somewhat interested in a bill before the House, he made what he considered one of his master-speeches, during the delivery of which he used the illustration of "Nero fiddling while Rome was burning." He had scarcely taken his seat when a member tapped him on the shoulder, and said: "Say, Charlie, it wasn't Nero that 'fiddled,' it was Cæsar. You should correct that before it goes on the record." In an instant he was upon his feet, and exclaimed. "Mr. Speaker—Mr. Speaker—I made a mistake. It wasn't Nero that 'fiddled' while Rome was burning; it was Julius Cæsar." Happily for him, the Speaker was so busily engaged that he did not hear him; but some members near heard and enjoyed the joke. Afterwards some one told him that he was right in the first place, which resulted in his reading all the ancient history in the State Library during the remainder of the winter, to assure himself as to who it was that "fiddled."