Wit and Humour.

Cromwell Argus, Volume I, Issue 12, 26 January 1870, Page 6

Wit and Humour.

—o— Blushes, like little girls, become women. Carpets are purchased by the yard, but worn sby the foot.

A hospital for women who have become disrated with their husbands, is about to be established in Cleveland.

" I live by my pen, 1 ' said an editor, wishing to impress a young lady. " You look as if you lived in one," was the reply. '" Did you ever shave before?" said a gentleman to a rough "barber. •' Oh, yes Bah.""—" Did the man live V

" Bedad," said an liishman, "if a Yankee were cast away on a barren island, he'd begin sellin' maps to the inhabitants." An opened letter at the dead letter office read as follows—" Seven years la raether long to kort a gal; but ile hav you yet. Kate." A Shrewd Answer.—Lady (at Sunday school): " And what do you understand by 'the pomps and vanities of this wicked world ?" Head of the class : " The flowers in your bonnet!" At a total eclipse of the sun, a coloured individual becoming excited, exclaimed, " Bress de Lord—niggers' time hab ceme at last, and now we're gwine to hab a black sun !" "Now, my little boys and girls," said a teacher, I want you to be very still—so still that you can hear a pin drop." In a minute, all was silent, when a little boy shrieked, "Let her drop !"

A boy having complained to His father that Bill had thrown the Bible at him and hit him on the head, the father replied, " Well, you are the only member of the family on whom the Bible ever made any impression." Some Indian tribes have the beautiful superstition that a bird loosed on the grave of their beloved will fly away to the spirit-land, and never close its wings until it has delivered its precious burden of affection to the departed. A droll answer is said to have been given lately in an examination at Cambridge. The candidate being asked who Wycliffe was, and doubtless having heard him called "the morning star of the Reformation," and that he died Vicar of Lutterworth, answered that the great reformer " was for some time editor of the Morning Star, and died Vicar of Wakefield."

Strawberries.—Josh Billings, in an article on strawberries, says :—" Oherrys iz good, but they are tew much like sucking a marble with a handle tew it. Peaches iz good, if u don't get enny uv the pin feathers intew yure lips. Watermelons will sute ennybody who iz satisfied with half-sweetened drink ; but the man who kan eat strawberrys, besprinkled with crushed sugar and bespatted with kream (at somebody else's expense), and not lay hiz hand on hiz stummuk and thank the authur uv strawberrys and stummuk, and the phellow who pays for the strawberrys, is a man whuz mouth tastes like a hole in the ground, and don't kare what goes down it."

Hard on the Fathers.—Mistakes will happen, but a little presence of mind and a good deal of audacity will sometimes get a person out of a very awkward position. A London paper tells the following anecdote in point:—Two youths were speaking to each other in a crowded ballroom. "Oh, look at that old man," said X. : " what a ridiculous head he has got."—" 1 beg pardon : it happens to be my father," says Y.— lleplies X. : "Indeed, that is your most respected father ? Well, could you see. mine, it is quite another affair—he is twenty times more ridiculous !" The two laughed, shook hands, and understood each other perfectly. Translations with a "Vengeance.—Never was the French better translated into plain Saxon than in the story which is told of an old-fash-ioned pair, who received a card of invitation to dinner from some much gayer folks than themselves. At the bottom of the card was thj then now "E.S.V.P." (Rcspmulez a'U vow plait—answer, if you please). This puzzled the worthy couple, and it might puzzle us in these days, although most of us are a little hotter acquainted with the French. The old gontleman took a nap on it, from which he was awakened by his helpmate, who, after shaking him up, said, " My lova, I h\v-3 found it out, R. S. V, P. mean* ' Remember, six Very punctual!' " J