Wit and Humour.

Cromwell Argus, Volume I, Issue 6, 15 December 1869, Page 7

Wit and Humour.

Why is a hon immortal ? —Because her ton never sets. The song of the netted herring.—"Let ms like a soldier fall." Why are you so late this morning, you varmint?” we asked our boy.— He answered, “ ’Cos I held the caudle till midnight for mother, who sat up mending stockings. She says sho saw a book in the shop-window that says, ‘ It’* never too late to mend.’ ” A witness ■who had been cautioned to give » precise answer to every question, and not tads about what he might think the question meant, was interrogated as follows :—“ You drive » waggon?”—“No, sir, I do not.”—“Why, sir, did you not tell my learned friend so this moment?”—“No, sir, 1 did not.”—“Now, sir, I put it to you on your oath, do you not drive * waggon?”—“ \o, sir.”—“ What is your occupation, then?”—“ 1 drive a horse, sir.” ’Bus driver to conductor of opposition Tms—“l’ve knowed yen- ever since you was born, t knowed yer poor mother ; she had two on yer chat time. One was a worry nice little boy ; t’osher was a half hidiot—a sort of brown paper feller. The werry nice little boy died werry young, he did.” A WICSSD FRAUD. It is seldom pleasant to one's own feelings t» tell on one’s self, but sometimes it is a sort of relief to a man’s feelings to make a sad confession. I wish to unburden my mind now, and yet I almost believe that I am moved to do it more because I long to bring censure upon another man than because 1 desire to pour balm upon nay own wounded heart. (I don’t know what balm is, but 1 believe it is the correct expression to use in this connection—never having seen balm.) You may remember that 1 lectured in Newark lately for the young men of the Claytouian Society ? I did, at any rate. During the afternoon of that day, I was talking with one of the young gentlemen just referred to, and he said he had an uncle, who, from some cause or other, seemed to have grown permanently bereft of any emotion. And, with tears in hi* eyes, this young man said—- “ Oh, if I could only see him laugh once more ? Oh, if I ooul l only see him weep 1" I was touched. I never could withstand distress. I said—- “ Bring him to my lecture. 11l start him for you.” “ Oh, if you could but do it! If you could but do it, all our family would bless you for • evermore, for he is very dear to us. Oh. my benefactor, can you make him laugh ? Can you bring soothing tears to those parched orbs ?” I was profoundly moved. I said—“Vy son, bring the old party round. I have got some jokes in that lecture that will make him laugh if there is any laugh in him ; and if they miss lire, I have some others that’ll make him cry or kill him, one or the other.” Then the young man blessed me, and wept on my neck, and went after his uncle. He placed him in full view, in the second row of benches that night, and I began on him. 1 tried him with mild jokes, then with severe ones; I dosed him with bad jokes, and riddled him with good ones ; I fired old jokes into him, and peppered him fore and aft with red-hot new ones, I warmed up to my work, and assaulted him on the right and left, before and behind ; I fumed and sweated, and charged and routed, till I was hoarse .and sick, and frantic and furious; but T never moved him once—never started a smile or a tear ! Never a ghost of a smile, and never a suspicion of moisture ! 1 was astounded. I closed the lecture at last with one despairing shriek—with one wild burst of hum mr—and hurled a joke of supernatural atrocity full at him. I never phased him ! Thou I sat down, bewildered and exhausted. The president of the society came up, and bathed my head with cold water, and said—- “ What made you carry on so towards the last ?” I said—“ I was trying to make that confounded old fool in the second row laugh,” And he said— “ Well, you wore wasting your time, because he is deaf and dumb, and as blind . as a badger, ” ! Now was that any way for that old man’s [ nephew to impose on a stranger and an orphan 5 j like mo? I simply ask you, as a man and a i i brother, if that was- any way fur him to do ? i Mark TV.vm,