THE PUGNACIOUS RAM.—78.

John B. Gough, in one of his eloquent temperance lectures, was encouraging those who signed the pledge to stick to it. "Stick to it," said he, "as the old ram did to his butting." The story is that a farmer had a ram which would run his head against the cows, horses, pigs, and, indeed, against everything in motion. The farmer himself was more than once butted over, and he finally determined to break up this propensity: so he tied a heavy block of wood upon a rope, and hung it on the limb of a tree. The block was set in motion, and the ram, seeing it move towards him, hit it a blow. This sent it off; but it swung back, and the ram hit it again, and so kept on doing. The farmer watched him until it was dark, and then left him (true to his nature) butting away. Early in the morning, on going out to see how the ram had fared, he found that he had butted himself all away, except a part of his tail, and that was hammering away at the swinging block. That's the way to stick to your pledge.

A HORRIFIED DANDY.—79.

A dandy, who was seated on the balcony of a Saratoga hotel, among a large company, was exquisitely dressed, and very highly perfumed with musk, which is very disagreeable to some persons. A plain farmer happening to pass near him, commenced snuffing suspiciously, and, looking around for the cause of the musky effluvia, he soon smelt out the dandy, and thus addressed him:—"I say, mister, I can tell ye what'll take that smell out of yer clothes: just bury 'em under ground for a week. My uncle run agin a skunk once, and—" but before the sentence was finished the enraged dandy sped from the crowd to escape the shouts of laughter, while the innocent farmer, who only meant to do him a kindness, was wondering what caused his sudden departure.

STRIKING EFFECT OF A STRIKE.—80.

A Boston contemporary says he finds among his exchanges the following paragraph:—

[TN: "The printers are on a strike for higher wages, we have concluded to set our own types in future! It is easy enough,">[

HABITS OF A GREAT MAN.—81.

Several paragraphs (says a New York paper) have been going the rounds in relation to the habits of great men, which paragraphs, as usual, are all wrong; inasmuch as we have had the pleasure of dining and hobnobbing with all the great men of this and every other country on the face of the globe. An illustration will prove this to the satisfaction of everybody. Mr. Seward generally rises from his bed in the morning about the time he gets up. He rarely, if ever, eats his breakfast before he gets it. He is not particular what kind of food he has, if he is provided with what he calls for. In his dress he is plain; never appearing in public without his pantaloons. He never wears his vest outside of his coat. He speaks his native dialect without a foreign accent. As an evidence of the methodical precision with which he attends to business, it is only necessary to allude to the fact that he invariably draws his salary the moment it is due; his memory in this respect is prodigious. He generally writes on paper, and uses a pen, which at intervals he dips into a stand of ink, that he keeps upon his table.