A CANADIAN VIEW OF PUNCH.
A copy of Punch's Almanac has been received at this office. It is England's leading exponent of humor. A member of this great journal's staff read it through carefully and studied every drawing. Then he went outside and kicked at a strange dog. The English brand of humor is sedate and stately. It is not intended to be laughed at. Laughter—that is, loud laughter—is excessively rude, don't you know. Punch's Almanac for 1906 is sixpen'orth of humor profundo. The man who would laugh at Punch would go into hysterics at a funeral. Punch's notion of humor is altogether too sublime for any place outside of an English drawing-room.—Bobcaygeon (Ontario) Independent.
CONCERNING MRS. TAYLOR.
Mrs. Herbert Taylor, who is a pleasant and estimable woman, and who can bake the finest cake ever made, having sent us some, and, therefore, making us a judge, and who has a family of nice, clean, polite children, and who plays the piano beautifully, and gives lessons to a few fortunate pupils in our little city, had a tooth pulled Friday.—Waitesburg (Missouri) Record.
A SUGGESTIVE FAREWELL.
An editor of a country paper thus humorously bids farewell to his readers: "The sheriff is waiting for us in the next room, so we have no opportunity to be pathetic. Major Nabbem says we are wanted and must go. Delinquent subscribers, you have much to answer for. Heaven may forgive you, but we never can."—Western Exchange.
A QUIET NIGHT IN PLUSH.
A very pleasant surprise party was given at the 7T Ranch about a week ago, at which every one had a very enjoyable time. Jeff Parish took all honors for the best dancer. Another party was given at Plush last Friday night; a large crowd attended and had a good time, without any fights. One or two bluffs were stirred about, but no hard blows were cast.—Plush correspondence Lakeview Examiner.
FASHION NOTES IN ARIZONA.
Every symptom points to a tendency to spread of style in Tombstone. Among other instances in this direction, the boys bought a pair of beautiful barber-pole suspenders and presented them to the amiable dispenser who shoves the amber extract of cheerfulness over the mahogany of the Parlor Saloon. He promptly donned the innovation, but claimed that he felt like he had a fence-rail on each shoulder. Then, when they became overburdensome, he would unbutton them and permit them to dangle in front, but he finally got them down fine enough to go to church in. Several old-timers, conspicuously court attendants from the other end of the county, have fallen into the habit of wearing boiled shirts, and it looks as if sky-blue overalls might be discarded as a full-dress costume. Getting "powerful tony" in town nowadays.—Tombstone (Arizona) Prospector.