AMERICAN HUMOUR.

Globe, Volume VII, Issue 712, 30 September 1876, Page 3

AMERICAN HUMOUR.

(American Papers ) The intense heat has knocked the spots out of the sun. Lunacy is increasing in France, where fashion originates. It is better to do right than to do wrong, if you have the time. Two men were sunstruck in Boston last week, while looking out for counterfeit fivedollar bills. Emergency frequently makes men, and suffering will develop the best of traits. Even a hollow tooth is made prominent in the raspberry season. It is the expression, not the features, which makes a face attractive or repulsive. Sitting Bull is going to drive all the whites into the Atlantic Ocean. It is well to be a little tanned before. Sensible families now introduce a paregoric cruet into the castor, The President doesn’t like members of the Yaryan race. Two y’s, you know. After all we do not believe last winter was half so cold as people thought it was. The ladies of 1776 wore pinafores, while those of 1876 wear ’em pinned behind. There appears to be another revolution in Hayti. Somebody has hooked a horse. The Emperor has gone, and a good many people who made his acquaintance may say domino. A well-moulded arm is prettier without bracelets, besides they are liable to scratch a fellow’s ear. Few men can make a speech. It is a very lucky thing that there are firecrackers on the 4th July. It is singular how early in life a child gains the reputation of resembling its richest and best-looking relations. These are the cholera mixture days, when the unripe watermelon makes its periodical visitation, and seems to forget that a man’s stomach isn’t a ball-room. Garry Gaines, a woman’s rights advocate, thinks the best young men are unappreciated. We have been painfully conscious of the fact for some time. The Charity of the world may occasionally throw an old biscuit at you from the thirdstory window, but if you don’t move on then it will turn the dog loose in the front yard. The bustle is said to have stepped down and out. It was always superfluous and never disgraceful; but we never thought of deserting its wearers for such a little thing as that. It is supposed that the reason graduates of female colleges are called bachelors of art instead of maids of art, is that the former is a higher degree. At least the maids are always after the bachelors. Don Carlos, the distinguished fugitive from Spanish justice, has been in Washington the last few days, and he says he can tell this is a great and glorious country, from the number of empty bottles lying around.

“ Clarence, you’ve got a real kind heart,” gratefully observed a young lady on the cars to a sallow-faced youth as he dropped a prize package of pop-corn in her lap, “Yes, Mary, my heart’s all right,” he sadly replied, “what I want is a new liver.” An up-town man has discovered a new remedy for the potato bug. He comes out every morning at sunrise with a volume of the Kev Mr Talmadge’s sermons and begins to read aloud, and in less than fifteen minutes the last bug is seen climbing over the fence, with a finger in each ear. The cattish and bass in the Delaware show more interest in sun umbrellas than they do in the choicest bait. It is edifying to see a dozen intelligent catties and bass reposing in the shade of the umbrella under which sits a patient, sweltering fisherman, wondering why they don’t take hold. _ Only a woman’s hair ! Who has not some time in his life picked such a golden thread from his best coat collar, and felt his heart beat quicker for it ? Or gazed upon a tress laid away in some nook, and not felt the influence of tender memories ? Only a woman’s hair ! And yet we do not like it in the butter. A Western tailor advertised, “ Wanted— Two or three steady girls to put on pants.” Dr Mary Walker called next morning, and said, “Nowbring on your pants, and don’t look.” The tailor explained, and she left with a sorrowful air, vowing that she would send him a grammar as soon as she got home. The universal sphere of industry is illustrated at Washington market. New York, by “ a man milliner and a woman butcher, who occupy adjoining stalls.” It must be an entertaining spectacle to witness the man milliner cutting the body of a Fifth avenue woman, while the woman butcher is sawing off a leg for a man. It is difficult to explain some of the great problems of nature. It is estimated that it takes eighteen centuries to form a foot of coal, but it is a well-known fact that a ton left out in the sidewalk will usually skrink 50 per cent or more in a single night. Thurlow Weed steps to the front and tells us that riotous living and lax morality are the reason why our country is squirming around to-day like a worm in the mud. Nations are like hair mattresses—they want jerking apart, and making over every now and then. A new religious sect has sprung up in lowa, one of whose principal tenets is that ‘ ‘ man in a normal condition should be married to two women.” Let’s all hurry back to a normal condition and join that sect. This thing of limiting one’s self to one wife always did look like a rather picayunish business.