good story is told of ex-governor Magottin, of Kentucky, who is a good talker and likes to do most of the talking himself. Recently, in making the journey from Cincinnati to Lexington, he shared his seat in the car with a bright-eyed, pleasant-faced gentleman. The Governor, after a few common-place remarks, to which his companion smiled and nodded assent, branched into a description of the scenes that he had witnessed in different parts of the country, grew eloquent over the war, described with glowing speech the numerous horse races he had witnessed, talked learnedly of breeding, and told thrilling stories of his battles with the Indians in the North-West. The hours slipped rapidly away, and when the train was nearing Lexington the two exchanged cards and parted with a cordial shake of hands. The Governor drove to an inn, and to a number of friends he remarked that the ride had never seemed so short before. "Then you must have had pleasant company aboard." "You are right. I met a gentleman of unusual intelligence. We conversed all the way over. I never was brought in contact with a more agreeable man." "Indeed! Who was he?" asked his friends. "Wait a minute; I have his card," and the Governor felt in his pockets and produced the bit of pasteboard. "His name is King." "Not Bob King?" shouted a dozen in one breath. "Yes, gentlemen; Robert King—that is the way the card reads," was the proud reply. A roar of laughter followed. "Why, Governor, Bob King is as deaf as a post; he was born deaf and dumb!"
A NOVEL SITUATION.
uring the past year a gentleman had occasion to visit a certain city in New England. He arrived at night, went directly to his accustomed hotel, and to bed, slept soundly throughout the night, and in the morning discovered his watch had stopped. When he opened the door of his room another gentleman was taking in his boots on the other side of the corridor, and of him our friend asked if he could tell him what time it was. To his surprise, the gentleman took no notice whatever of the question. He asked again, "Sir, will you be good enough to tell me what time it is? My watch has stopped." No answer. The gentleman, without looking up, shut his door and disappeared. At that moment two other gentlemen came walking down the corridor, and Mr. X. asked of them the same question. The two gentlemen, without looking to the right or left, continued their walk without an answer or sign. "Well," thought Mr. X, "this is very curious." However, he went back to his room. Presently the bell rang for breakfast, and immediately a waiter entered the room, seized him by the arm, and began a series of gesticulations. Mr. X. lost his temper, and burst forth with "What in the name of goodness is the matter?" when the waiter cried "Oh," and vanished, laughing. Mr. X. began to think something was very wrong, but went down to breakfast. When he entered the salle a manger, which commonly had a dozen or twenty people at the tables, he found the hall filled with gentlemen in black coats, all feeding gravely, and in silence. A waiter silently beckoned him to a place, and when he was seated he said to his neighbour—"Sir, will you be kind enough to tell what all this is about?" No answer. The person, like Charlotte in Werter, went on eating bread and butter. Our friend began to feel decidedly queer, and getting out of his seat, went to the nearest waiter and piteously besought him, for heaven's sake, to tell him what was the matter with the house. "Oh," said the waiter, "don't you know? Why this is the Deaf and Dumb Convention, which meets to-day at Hartford."
THE DEAF AND DUMB BOTH HEARD AND SPOKE.
incent Ogden was recently charged with begging, under the pretence of being deaf and dumb, at Launceston. P. C. Barrett said that he saw the prisoner in the butcher's market. He was making signs, and pretending to be deaf and dumb. He took him into custody, and after they arrived at the police station asked him his name; he made no reply at first, but subsequently said he was called William Ogden, that he was a native of Manchester, and had just come out of Bodmin Gaol. Committed for two months, with hard labour.