"Kitty, where's the frying-pan?"—"Johnny's got it, carting mud and oyster shells up the alley, with the cat for a horse."—"The dear little fellow! what a genius he'll yet make; but go and get it. We're going to have company, and must fry some fish for dinner."
Lighting an editor's fire with rejected contributions—Burns' Justice.
Lady F—— had arrived to so extreme a degree of sensibility, that, seeing a man go by with a mutilated wheelbarrow, she cried out to her companion, "Do turn aside, it distresses me above measure to see that poor unfortunate wheelbarrow with one leg."
"La, me!" sighed Mrs. Muggins, "here have I been sufferin' the begamies of death for three mortal weeks. Fust, I was seized with a painful phrenology in the left hampshire of the brain, which was exceeded by a stoppage of the left ventilator of the heart. This gave me an inflammation in the borax, and now I'm sick with the chloroform morbus. There is no blessin' like that of health, particularly when you're sick."