HUMOUR.

Globe, Volume VII, Issue 733, 25 October 1876, Page 3

HUMOUR.

Why is a kiss like a sewing machine ? Because it seems so good. Poor Dick, who has his hair pulled out pretty often by his lady love, observed to a friend, " You see, she takes her own hair off so easily she doesn't know how it hurts to have mine pulled out." " It doesn't take me long to make up my mind, I can tell you 1" said a conceited fop. "It's always so where the stock of material to make up is small," quietly remarked a young lady. That was a wise professor who answered his daughter's question, " What is mind ? " by briefly saying, " No matter," and to the other ques'ion, " What is matter ;" " Never mind." Not much more can be said on either point. ' I do not think, madam, that any man of the least sense would approve your conduct,' said an' indignant husband. ' Sir,' retorted his better half, ' how can you judge how any man of the least sense would do?' A celebrated vocalist was some time ago upset in his carriage near Edinburgh. A Scotch paper, after recording the accident, said :—' We are happy to state that he was able to appear the following evening in three pieces. A lady who had been teaching her little four-year-old the elements of arithmetic was astounded by his running and propounding the following problem :—' Mamma, if you had three butterflies, and each butterfly had a bug in his ear, how many butterflies would you have V The mother is still at work on the problem. " What's the matter, uncle Jerry ?" said a bystander, as an old man was passing by growling most furiously. " Matter 1" cried the old man, stopping short. " Why, here have I been drawing water all the morning for Dr Cawdle's wife, and what d'ye s'posei got for it?" "Why, I suppose about a shilling," wa3 the reply. "Shilling! She told me the doctor would pull out a tooth for me some day." Dr Newman spoke in a recent sermon of " the sad funeral procession" which followed Abel to the grave. An irreverent woman in the audience nudged her companion and whispered: "Not such a large procession, but very select; none but the first families." A couple from the couatry came to the city recently, procured a license and were married in due form. They left on the afternoon train for home. They attracted the attention of every passenger by their lavish display of affection. The young man kept his arm tight around the bride's waist, as if he was afraid she would vanish before he knew it; and she didn't seem to care if ho hugged her right along lor half a day. She was so terribly homely that everybody wondered how he could love her, and by-and-by he seemed to think that an explanation would be in order. He borrowed a chew of tobacco of a man near the door, and remarked : " I'm going to hug that girl all the way home, though I know she isn't party." " I wouldn't," briefly responded the man. "And that's where you'd fool yourself," continued the young man, " When I'm hugging a hundred acres of clean, nice land, with forty head of stock on it, I can make the homeliest girl in the world look like an angel to me."