FUNIOSITIES.

Daily Telegraph (Napier), Issue 3988, 3 May 1884, Page 4

FUNIOSITIES.

Whalers—Crying- babies. Switch-tenders—Hairpins. A cool proceeding—Skating. A clerical pain.—Tom Paine. The floating population—Sailors. Alight-headed thing. —A candle. A hand-in-hand affair—Marriage. Companion of tho Bath—A sponge. Always too broad—the road to ruin. A bund of hope—The wedding ring. A bad debt—Tho owing- of a grudge. A noisy solitude. —A howling desert. Drawn and quartered—The juryman. An old head—The head of navigation. A counter attraction.—A bar luncheon. Food for the imagination—Fancy bread. The ancient philosopher of the clergy.— Plato. The United "States" —Drunk and incapable. A bug that still continues to thrive— Humbug. How to know a sail-maker —By the " cut of his jib." Three things that rhyme—Boys, toys, and noise.

In tho ladder of fame the strongest rungs are of brass.

"You're too hard on me," as the corn said to the boot.

The voice of the gossip is more than six-teen-scandle power.

Why is a knuckle like a prompt lecturer ? —Because it's on hand.

A yawn in company generally indicates a gap in the conversation. "You'll split my sides,,' as the oak tree said to the flash of lightning. Many a man justly consider his wife poetical when she is a verse to him ?

A woman woke her husband during a storm the other night, and said —"I do

wish you would stop snoring, for I want to hear it thunder."

"A young- wife's greatest trial" is probably to find out whether it would bo proper to starch her husband's shirt all over or only the bosom and cuffs.

" That is a good war steed," said a livery stable keeper to a customer, pointing to a mangy-looking - animal. " Why so ?" "Because he'd sooner die than run."

Adoring one (in lavender kids and a blue scarf) —" Oh, bow I wish I were lhat book you clasp so lovingly?" She-—"Howl wish you were, so that I could shut you up." A jolly looking Irishman was saluted with the remark—"Tim, your house is blown away." "Deed, then, it isn't," he answered, "for I have tho kay in my pocket.''

Our book-keeper, who has taken a lively interest in this Egyptian business, says that the accounts are balanced thus: —England— All loss and no profit. Mahdi—All prophet and no loss.

"Is you gwino to get an overcoat the winter?" asked a darkie of a companion. " Well, I dunuo how dats gwino to be," was the reply. "I's got my eye on a coat; but de fellah dot" owns it keeps his eye on it, too."

"May," asked a little Burlington girl of a companion, '' what do you suppose is the difference between a beau' and a beau ideal?" "Well, I don't know," was tho frank response, "unless they leave off tho ideal after they gets married."

A writer on the subject of the management of children says:—" If, in instructing a child, you are vexed with it for want of adroitness, try, if yon have never tried before, to write with your left hand, and then remember that a child is nil left hand."

A Georgia paper tells of a daddy who listened for two hours while his daughter and her dudelet occupied one end of the sofa, and this was tho solo conversation : He—•" If lovie die, what ud do vie do?" She —"Dovie die, too."—Louisville Courier Journal. A wit will have his joke even at tho expense of his gallantry. It was Lord Houghton who, when a lady, more beautiful in her own eyes than in those of tho woiid, was boasting that she had had hundreds of men at her feet:, remarked in an undertone, " Chiropodists."

"Whore are you taking mo tor" asked a criminal, addressing the detective who had just arrested him. "I am taking you to the office of the Police Superintendent," was the reply. " I wish to observe in this case, then," said tho culprit, " that it is the office that seeks the man, and not tho man the office."

"Jack," said a blushing damsel to a lover that her father had forbidden the house, " I don't csire if your feet are big; I love you "just as much." " Well, Sally, I don't mind so much about tho size of my own feet, but I wish your dad's wore a little I should feel more confident, you knovv, about staying." In playing a game of seven- \ip with a young lady from St. Paul, a wicked Bismarcker told her that every time she held the jack of trumps it was a sure sign that her lover was thinking of her. Then the impenitent fiend watched her face at each deal, and every time she blushed and looked pleased led out and caught her jack. —Bismarck Tribune.