“TThhee ccoommppoossiittoorr wwhhoo sseett tthhiiss ppaarr. hhaass hhaadd eexxaaccttllyy aa ggllaassss aanndd aa hhaallff ttoooo mmuucchh aanndd tthhiiss iiss pprreecciisseellyy wwhhaatt hhee ffeeeellss lliikkee.”
Yes, that compositor may only have had “a glass and a-half too much,” but the typo who is supposed to have set up the appended advertisement has manifestly indulged to even a greater extent—
£ DOGSH LOSHT!
Reward Five Shtrayed or Shtolen,
Bandy Coloured Liver Legged Dog
Had on Collar Marked “Rover,”
Answers to name of C.B., Esq.
Whoever bringsh 5£ receive dogsh reward. No
furtherdogsh will be offered.
AUTHORS’ MISERIES.
As you are conducting Lady Gotobed to her carriage from Lady Highjink’s “noble party,” and fancying yourself a man of fashion, you hear the servants in the hall saying one to another, “that’s him—that’s Poonch!”
American printers are much given to these diverting devices, and in the following instance we have a number of papers vieing with one another in extracting fun from the technical terms for the various signs and punctuations—
“If brevity is the soul of wit, how is this for a funny ¶?—‘Wheeling Journal.’ It is without a ‖.—‘New York Enterprise.’ Did you expect anybody to “ ” that?—‘Philadelphia Sunday Mirror.’ Those are the worst jokes of the .—‘Washington Critic.’ My * * *, you’re pointed as a †, aren’t you?—‘Burlington Enterprise.’ We
the opportunity to say these are ,cal ? ? ? you fellows pro£.—‘Gold.’ Well, they afford a $ous sort of amusement at best and —— our spirits greatly.—‘New York “L.” R. Journal.’”