DRAMATIC SKETCH OF A THIN MAN.
A long lean man, with all his limbs rambling—no way to reduce him to compass, unless you could double him like a pocket rule—with his arms spread, he'd lie on the bed of Ware like a cross on a Good Friday bun—standing still, he is a pilaster without a base—he appears rolled out or run up against a wall—so thin that his front face is but the moiety of a profile—if he stands cross-legged, he looks like a Caduceus, and put him in a fencing attitude, you would take him for a piece of chevaux-de-frise—to make any use of him, it must be as a spontoon or a fishing-rod—when his wife's by, he follows like a note of admiration—see them together, one's a mast and the other all hulk—she's a dome, and he's built together like a glass-house—when they part, you wonder to see the steeple separate from the chancel, and were they to embrace, he must hang round her neck like a skein of thread on a lace-maker's bolster—to sing her praise, you should choose a rondeau; and to celebrate him, you must write all Alexandrines.—Sheridan's MSS. in Moore's Life of him.
A man of words and not of deeds,
Is like a garden full of seeds.
STOLEN GOODS.
A Negro in Jamaica was tried for theft, and ordered to be flogged. He begged to be heard, which being granted, he asked—"If white man buy tolen goods why he be no flogged too?" "Well," said the judge, "so he would." "Dere, den," replied Mungo, "is my Massa, he buy tolen goods, he knew me tolen, and yet he buy me."—Elgin Courier.