Dynamite!—Millionnaire Cyrus W. Field, of New York, raised a monument to Andre, the English spy, with great pains and expense. Some other party razed it, a few nights ago—with a dynamite cartridge. Robert Simons, while trying to kill fish at Little Rock, Ark., with dynamite, exploded some of the stuff in his pocket, and his right arm was blown off in a jiffy.
Archbishop Croke says: "Politics now simply means food and clothes and decent houses for Irishmen and women at home; they mean the three great corporal works of mercy; they mean the protection of the weak against the strong, and the soil of Ireland for the Irish race rather than for a select gang of strangers and spoliators."
The Landlord War is raging in Ireland. The Boycotting campaign is being pushed. This chorus is intoned by "T. D. S." and caught up throughout the land:
"Tis vain to think that all our lives
We'll coin our sweat to gold,
And let our children and our wives
Feel want and wet and cold;
We first must help ourselves, and then,
If we have cash to spare,
Let landlord, and such idle men,
Come asking for a share;
So landlords, and grandlords,
We pledge our faith to-day—
A low rent, or no rent,
Is all the rent we'll pay."
A Cheerful Prospect.—Sympathetic Friend: I say, Toombs, old man, you're not looking well. Want cheerful society, that's it! I shall come and spend the evening with you, and bring my new poem, "Ode to a Graveyard!"
The English Elections.—One of the unexpected effects of the public excitement consequent upon the general election has been the revelation of some of the most grotesque vagaries of Protestantism that have ever come under our notice. One clergyman told his parishioners not to scruple about telling lies as to the party for which they intended to vote. Another characterized the Liberals as "a set of devils." Archdeacon Denison, an octogenarian ecclesiastic, informed his audience at a public meeting that they "might as well cheer for the devil as for Mr. Gladstone."