AMERICAN HUMOUR.

Globe, Volume VII, Issue 718, 7 October 1876, Page 3

AMERICAN HUMOUR.

(.American Papers.') The size of a Chicago girl’s shoes is of no consequence—if she will be good enough not to kick. “Gift enterprize”—A financial scheme whose projectors receive gifts and enter prizes in their own pockets. You cannot convince a dog with a string of fire-crackers attached to his narrative that the American Republic is a complete success. Mr Evarts spoke in his oration recently of “our debts to the men of 1776.” Ab> would that all our debts were to the men of 1776. A writer in the Scientific American asks : “ Why are we right-handed ? ” And we suspect it never occurred to him that it is because we are not left-handed. Instinct (if you choose to give it that name) is unerring, or it would not teach you to keep your hand on your pocket-book while in the presence of a man who is cruel to his dog. A contemporary says that “Tilden will enter the coming war with a vigor that will startle his opponents.” But what does Tilden know about war? He never was married ! The crop reports are generally rose-colored, but in some sections, as we learn, cotton is so small that a full grown humble-bee is compelled to get on his knees to search for the evidence of the blossoms. On the night of the third of July the Keeley-motor man dreamed he got in between the hind legs of the last century and was badly trampled on. Philadelphia lager easily affects men of genius. Why does the average man when he has finished eating a piece of watermelon, instead of quietly dropping the rind in the gutter, always looks round for a stray cat or dog at which to shy it. A practical sort of fellow estimates that there was enough powder wasted in this country on the Centennial Fourth —not to pay off half the national debt, but to have kept him in whiskey for thirty years. Cable despatches announce that General Mukhtar Pasha has entered Niksiki unopposed with another convoy of provisions. This is about the third or fourth time, flanged if Niksiki does anything but eat. A woman writes that “a man can bold his age much better than he can hold his youth.” To which a man might add that a woman can hold her age much better than she can hold her mouth, but a respect for our hair prevents us from making the remark. The army of Greece is a tremendous thing. The cavalry branch of it is said to consist of eleven men, nine horses, and a ’bus—not a blunderbus, but an omnibus. When Greece takes up a gun Europe lies down behind a log. There is so much of it that we really don’t believe she can. Twenty years ago she was as lithe and disencumbered as a deer ; now she’s gat a hump on her back and toils like a dromedary. When she comes down to rice, milk, and potatoes, chops her own wood, knocks the bottom out of the lap of luxury, and does her own washing and ironing, the hump will begin to subside. They have a plaster paris cast of a woman at Philadelphia that calls forth admiration on all sides. It breaths and moves its lips but it never scolds ; it raises its foot, but it never kicks at a sick oat; it moves its arms, but it never reaches out after a broom stick ; and now if they can fashion it to wink at one man—and ono man only—then will art have triumphed over nature. The editor of the Register says—“ One hundred years ago we were lighting for liberty. Now we are fighting for bread and butter.” The doctor holds his age well ; but it must be a sad and painful spectacle to see a man over one hundred years old fighting for bread and butter I We hope his subscribers will pay up more promptly.