Poor Leech’s last sketch represented an Irishman and his wife, The man had lost his hat, his hair looked as if it had been pulled and twisted in all directions, his eyes were black and swollen, his nose was broken, and his clothes were in more than the’.r natural tatters. His wife was reproaching him for his folly in running into a fight, and, by way of reply, he says, “Whisht, Biddy, whisht —it’s mate and drink to me.”
A Good Judge of a Sermon.—There are two sermons preached every Sunday in St. Mary’s ''Church at Oxford, and, as there are very many preachers, every scheol of theology is represented. “You hear a great many sermons,” said a Don once to the beadle. “I’ve been here ten years,” returned the beadle; “ Ive heard two sermons every Sunday—High Church, and Low Church, and Broad » hurch —but I thank Heaven I am still a Christian.” This man got to be as good a judge of the value of a sermon as a porter at Christie’s might be of the value of a picture. They used to ask his opinion about them. “ What did you think of the sermon to-day?” “ Well, sir, I never liked that sermon. I did not like it the first time 1 heard it, and I did not like it time; and I did not like it this time.”
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Evening Star, Issue 3889, 11 August 1875, Page 3
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230Untitled Evening Star, Issue 3889, 11 August 1875, Page 3
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