THE POTATY IS COOKED.

Akaroa Mail and Banks Peninsula Advertiser, Volume V, Issue 468, 18 January 1881, Page 3

THE POTATY IS COOKED.

The profit was aaitert alono in bis wharry When bould Captain Knollys came tip to the door ; Tho Aid-to-Kong bowin' exclaimed :— " Faix I'm sarry, To tlirouble ye, darlint, but railly I'm sure Yell pardon tlie freedom taken, for me mission Is paiceful an , good, an' yer frinslrip I've book'd, Me masther Sir Arthur's a grate polytician " — Tny Whitty then sea—" Tho pot.ity is cook'd " " Begorra. me boy, sure I don't undhor6tand ye, Yer language is sthrango, and its maniti' obscure, Bir Arthur has sint me to as an 7 command ye To meet him." The Profit danced round on tho floor ; The Captain, bewhildered was filled wid commotion, Tay Whitty so funny an' comical look'd, Be-dad, blur-an-ages, it seemed a sthrange notion. Again came the words—"The potaty is cook'd." " Grate Profit," again spoke the Captain '•this lctthcr Was written be Johnny, tho mighty Prime-ear, He heard yon J wer sick, and he hopes that yer betther I've brought yo adhrop o' the craythiir, me dear, The light's on the mountain, the livers are plucky " — Tay Whitty's sly wink said, " I'm not to be liook'd," His look seemed to say—" Now, clear out it' yer lucky." _ , Hiii torifue only said—"The poUly is • cook'd." PADDY MURPHY.

A good child complained that her catechism v/as too h.-inl, and f-orir-inly inqiiirod if llujro wore not some kittonuhisins for little girls.

I Mr Henry Varley was once going to Geelong, and as he had just taken his seat in tho carriage a man rushed frantically in, mopped his face with hi s handkerchief, sat down, find began to curse all the railways np hill and down dale. When asked to explain his conduct, he cursed himself by saying he had got into no less than four different trains and found they were not for Geelong. ' Such mismanagement,' &c, &c. Mr Varley < was vory shocked by bis strong language and mildly asked him ' if ho know where lie was going.' " Well, upon my soul, after two days' experience I don't think it safe to say I do.' ' Ah, young man, you're going to hell.' 'Good heavens I wrong train again !' and away he cut.

A poetical lover ended a poem with what ho considered a masterly line, ' I kissed her under the silent stars.' Ho sent it to be printed, but the ruthless compositor made it, ' I kicked her under the cellar stairs.'

A well-known citizen returned home in a rather " how-come-you-so " condition the other night, and in reply to bis wife's remonstrance, said ho had been attending a meeting of tha election committee, and pushing forward the movement. " But how came all that mud on the shoulder of your coat ?" she asked; to which he replied, meekly, " I've been putting my shoulder to tho wheel." She was satisfied.

It is singular that it is always the friend of your soul who discovers all your defects o£ appearance and manner. Vanity will never take a great hold upon your soul as long as you possess a crony. She wilj keep you well informed of everything you had rather not know. She discovers those grey hairs that you fondly dreamt no one ever saw, and is kind enough to tell you that you looked your worst at that last party.

" Tale-bearers will oe whipped " is the significant writing to be se en on a black board in a Virginia city school, and it is one which emblazoned forth on every hand. Better be the sinner than (he scandal monger; better the Publican than tho Pharisee. There is nothing so mean, so contemptible, as to see a number of men or women engaged in dilating upon every pecarlillo of someone else, and much meaner and more contemptible does i* appear when the object of the talebearer is to instale himself into tho favor of some person or persona. The semi-religious wholly hypocritical class of people who go around the world bewailing tho sins of everybody pise, pouring their stories into the ears of all who listen, and thanking God that they are not as their fellows?, are generally worse sir.ners than the harum-scarums whom they affect to pity—they are gone;ally steeped in hypocrisy, tainted with bigotry, and shadowed by the hand of inhumanity. Wβ never yet saw a tale-bearer —walked lie tho streets in sin hims-elf or lifted his voice to (-rod from a gorgeous pulpit— who was not at heart a worse man than he against whom he bore witness.