VARIETIES.

Cromwell Argus, Volume VI, Issue 272, 26 January 1875, Page 3

VARIETIES.

Why are ladies the biggest thieves in existence ?—-.Because they steel their petticoats, bone their stays, crib their babies, and hook their dresses. The Centennial .Reporter,— A reporter has excited the envy of all the other reporters by doing up his items in rhyme. This is his style : “ A solemn-eyed man, with a wart on his nose, Created a great deal of mirth, By stumping his toe in front of a bank, And sitting flat down on the earth. The horse was driven by E. H. MacCuire— Who thinks he is some on the drive— Gotfrightened and spilled Mac. outin the street, But they say he was picked up alive. Mrs Hilterby’s back is as rigid as stone, And she wants a divorce on the spot, But her old man, as she’s willing to swear, For her makes it unpleasantly hot.” “ Phairest of the phair,” sighed a lover, “phaucy my pheelings when I phorsee the phearful consequences of our phleeing from your phattier’s phamily. Phew phellows could have phaced the music with so much phortitude as I have; and as phickle phortune phails to smile upon our love, Iphind myself phorced tophorego the pleasure Of becoming your husband. Phair Phrances, phanvell phor ever. ” “ Hold, Phranklin, hold !” screamed Phrances; “ I will pholiow vou phor ever.” But Phranklin phled, and loving Phrances phainted, “ Minnie, I’m in such a quandary ; for if I tu>n my back on Charley he becomes offended at once, and if I don’t he can’t see my new' buckle. What shall I do ?” “ I shall awaken in Paradise with thee, love,” wrote a fair young girl before she took arsenic. But she took too much for a death dose, and awoke with a stomach-pump down her throat. An American literary gentleman and poet writes in mockery of his cold in the following bitter (beer) spirit:— The bood is beabig brighdly, love, The sdars are shidig too ; While 1 am gazig dreabily, Add thigkig love of you ; You caddot, oh, you caddot know, My darlig, how I biss you—(Oh, whadt a fearful cold I’ve got— Ok-tish-u! Ck-ck-tish-u!) Tit for Tat.— An lowa editor who attended a party was smitten wdth the charms of a fair young damsel who wore a rose on her forehead, and thus gushed about it: — “ Above her nose there is a rose ; Below that rose there is a nose. Rose, nose, nose, rose, Sweet rose, dear nose. Below her chin there is a pin ; Above that pin there is a chin. Pin, chin, chin, pin. Sweet pin, dear chin.” Whereupon a rival editor thus apostrophises the 1 owa chap : “ Above the stool there is a fool; Below' the fool there is a stool. Stool, fool, fool, stool, Old stool, damphfool. Below his seat there are two feet; Above these feet there is a seat. Seat, feet, feet, seat, Soft seat, big feet.” A small boy, telling his " pais” how he came to he detected stealing apples in a grocery store, proceeded thus : “ Well, I don’t care so domed much about bein’ seen, but the clerk was crosseyed, an’ I thought he was vatchin’ a dorg fight ’cross the street, but he was lookin’ square onto me, an’ he helped me clean into the gutter !’’— Terre Haule Express.