"What a magnificent specimen! Surely it must be the oldest tree in the world!"
An Irishman who was with the party cried out: "Now, faith, how could that be?" and burst out into laughter. "Sure any one knows this is a new country, and how the mischief could that tree be ould?"
A LIGHT BREEZE.
During one of the recent windy days in New York a discussion arose between some gentlemen at dinner about the velocity of wind. Each related a boastful story of his own experiences. One of the party, a hardy Westerner, said he was once riding in a train through Kansas.
"There was what is called out there 'a light breeze' blowing. I had occasion to look out of the window, and the moment I put my head out off went my hat."
"What did you do?" asked one of the party.
"Well, gentlemen, several people told me not to worry, that the breeze was strong enough to take it there. I sort of wondered what they meant, but that hat was handed to me by the station-agent at our next stop, about forty miles from where it blew out of the window. We came along pretty fast, too—I guess about fifty miles an hour. But then eighty miles an hour for wind is called 'a light breeze' in that country, and the hat went by the eighty-mile route."