MISCELLANEOUS.

Dunstan Times, Issue 424, 3 June 1870, Page 3

MISCELLANEOUS.

More news of an old friend. America (says an English paper) may be proud of its George Francis Train. We cannot rival him on this side of the Atlantic. He is as unique as Niagara, He lectures on the “Old Fogies of the Bible,” and he sends a telegram to the Queen of England. Here it is:—“ To Victoria, London.--Give me back my tramways, or down goes your monarchy. Train.” It is sublime, audit is a magnificent proof of the subordination of the mere elements to the dominance of gigantic intellect that the Atlantic wire did not shiver into atoms when the tremendous message was transmitted. An ignorant, but conceited fellow got aboard a steamer on Lake Huron. After standing upon the deck awhile among the crowd, and seeing the captain Approach, he inquiredwhat is the name of this lake?” “ The Lake Huron”. “ Yes sir, ” replied the man, But the captain going no further the stranger said: “ Well, what is the name of the lake?” “ The Lake Huron, ” again answered the captain. “1 want to know what lake I am on- -what’s it’s name ?” “ Well, sir, ” said the captain, “ the name of the lake you’r on, is the Lake Huron. Does that satisfy you ?” The crowd was smiling quite audibly, And tbe man walked on, muttering low to h’mself ; “ tbe lake I’m on, is the lake Im’ on. That’s a polite captain indeed.” A contented citizen of Milan, who had never passed beyond its walls during the course of sixty years’ being ordered by the governor not to stir beyond its gates, became immediately miserable, and felt so powerful an inclination to do that which he had so long contentedly neglected, that on his application for a release from this restraint being refused, be became quite melancholy, and at last died of grief. The pains of imprisonment, also, like those of servitude, are more in conception than in reality. We are all prisoners. What is life but the prison of our soul? “Dau” said a little four yean old, “give me a sixpence to buy a monkey.” “We’ve got one monkey in the house now,” replied the elder brother. “Who is it, Dan?” asked the little fellow. “You,” was the reply. “Then give me sixpence to buy the monkey some nuts.” His brother could not resist. A preacher in the neighbourhood of Hartford, Conn., not undeservedly popular had just finished an exhortation strongly recommending the support of a certain very meretorious institution. The congregation was numerous and the chapel was crowded to excess. The discourse being finished, the plate was about being handed round to the respective pews, Vvhen the preacher made this short address to the congregation. . “From the sympathy I have witnessed in your countenances, and the strict attention you have honoure 1 me with, there is one thing that I am afraid of, that some of you may he inclined to give too much. Now it is ray duty to inform you that justice, though not so pleasant, should always be a prior virtue to generosity; therefore, as you will all be immediately waited unon in your respective pews, I wish to have it thoroughly understood that no person shall think of putting anything into the plate who cannot pay his debts.” We need not add that this produced a most overflowing collection.