Varieties.

Cromwell Argus, Volume 1, Issue 51, 2 November 1870, Page 6

Varieties.

“ How many are there ov ye’s down there?" shouted an Irish overseer to some men in a coalpit. “Five,” was the answer. “Well, then the half ov ye’s come up here." Several Chicago merchants have engaged handsome young ladies to collect their outstanding accounts. The plan is said to work well, only the bachelors rather like that kind of dunning. Liverpool is a wonderful place. Babies are no longer born there, if we credit the announcement in a local paper, that “during the month of February 229 young gentlemen, and 324 young ladies were born in the city.” An lowa minister, who had formerly been a disciple of Thespis, lately astonished his congregation by the announcement that his next text might be found in Proverbs, act iv., scene 5. A witness being called upon to give evidence in a court in Connecticut respecting the loss of a shirt, gave the following;—“ Mother said that Ruth said that Kell said that Poll told her that she see a man that see a boy that run through the street with a shirt all checked ; and our gals won’t tell stories, for mother has whipped them a thousand times for telling stories.” A weeklvnewspaper has just been started in Louisiana called the Eagle. The following sentences are taken from its opening article : “ Once more at the helm, we fear no storms, no thunder, no billows. The winds may roar and surge, and in wild mad career upheave the political ocean until her discoloured depths are seen and bear mountains height with wild confusion the billows, and the billows’ spray. From cloud to cloud the rending lightning may rage, until the heavens appear one broad sheet of fire, and the torrents pour in unbroken floods, a solid mass. The ocean may rave, and her billows strive to reach the very heavens, yet, safely, proudly, fearlessly will we steer our staunch, storm-tossed barque, until we have anchored in the placid waters of Constitutional Liberty.”

PtLK-DiuvtNT: an'd Post-Settisg. —There is a fact in connection witla timber, especially that used for piles, which experience has proved to he of great value, and which persons engaged in pile-driving and post-setting ought to remember and act upon. That is, that trees, when inserted into the ground or river bed in the reverse of the position they occupied when growing, will last three times longer than when placed the ordinary way. The idea is by no means new, but, it, is not sufficiently acted upon. The .Maoris are credited with taking advantage of this peculiarity of timber, and insert their piles accordingly; and it was proved long after Chat Moss, over which the Manchester and Liverpool Railway runs, was piled ; for a few piles which had been accidentally suuk the reverse way were still sound, when all the rest were decayed. Apply the practice to bridge piling, and the saving would be very great. As the contractors for such works as bridge building arc frequently unable to ascertain (especially in the case of short piles), which is the actual run of the growth of a tree, fellers of timber ought to be required to mark the tree with a broad arrow, pointing towards what was the top of the tree, and the operators could then sink as the arrow points. A similar mark would be useful in ordinary fencing, which, in the best of .New Zealand woods, decays with rapidity. A A’ice Animal.—Mark Twain says of his horse : —“I have a horse by the name of Jericho. He is a mare. I have seen remarkable horses before, but none so remarkable as this, i wanted a horse that would shy, and this fills the bill. I had an idea that shying indicated spirit. If it was correct, I have the most spirited horse on uaith. He shies at everything he comes across with the utmost partiality. Ho appears to have a mortal dread of telegraph poles especially ; and it is fortunate that these are on both sides of the road, because as it is now, 1 never fall off twice in succession on the same side. If I fell on the same side always, it would get monotonous after a while. The creature has shied at everything he has seen to-day except a hay-stack. He walked up to that with an intrepidity and recklessness that was astonishing. And it would till any one with admiration to see how he preserved his self-possession in the presence of a barley sack. Tills dare-devil bravery will be the death of this horse some day. He is not particularly fast, but I think ho will do all the work I want. He has only one fault: his tail has been chopped off, or else he has sat , down on it too hard some time or other, and has to tight the flies with his heels. This is all very well, but when ho tries to kick a fly off the top of his head with his hind loot, it is too much of a variety. Ho is going to get himself into trouble that way some day. He reaches around and bites my legs, too. I do not care particularly about that,—only 1 do not like to see a horse too sociable.”