VARIETIES.

Globe, Volume XXI, Issue 1671, 28 June 1879, Page 3

VARIETIES.

A happy definition of the w r ord piano— An instrument which tortures a groat numb r of persons for the satisfaction of one. If some kind of an amendment could be added to the marriage service which would make it mandatory upon the part of the bride to get up in the morning and kindle the fire there would be fewer old bachelors thumping about the country.—“ Waterloo Observer.” A young woman who had never learned the gentle art of cookery, being dc sirous cf impressing her husband with her knowledge and diligence, manages to have the kitchen door ajar on the day after their return from the bridal trip, and just as her lord comes in from the office exclaims loudly “Hurry up, Eliza, do ! Haven’t you washed the lettuce yet ? ’ Here, give it to me ; where’s the soap?” Judge.— “ Your client had better make a compromise; ask her what will she take. Counsel—“My good woman, his lordship asks what you will take.” Old woman—“l’m oblig'd to his lordship” (curtsey), “ashe’s so kind” (curtsey), “I’ll just take a glass o’ warm ale.” Judge, severely—“ How do you know the defendant is a married man? Wore you ever at his house?” “No, sir.” “Do you know him personally?” “No, sir,” “Do you know his wife?” “No, sir.” “Did anybody ever tell you they were married ?” “ No, sir ; but when I see a man and woman come to the same church regularly for three years, occupy the same pew, and have s, hymn-book apiece to sing out of, I don’t want to see no marriage certificate from them. I can swear to their relation all the time.” Verdict for plaintiff. We never thought of it before, but you never heard of a boy being in favor of macadamising the streets. As we write r very small specimen of a boy, encased in boots, is wading through the sea of mud on White street. He isn’t going straight through it, but from side to side as if to get all the benefit possible from it. He throws it up with his feet, and ploughs his boots through it, and laughs aloud m the mad revel. Twenty years from now he will be blackguarding the authorities for not paving the streets, and threaten with an oath, to leave “such a dead and alive hole.” It is merely a matter of time.— “Danbury News.” Good Dog for a Hard Road.— An American sportsman tolls a good story of a slow railroad in the northern part of the States. He says he went there gunning, and came to a short line of road on which was run a single car, the forward end of which was

partitioned off for baggage. He took his dog into the car with him, and put him under the seat. Presently the conductor came along, and insisted that the dog should go into the baggage room, which, after some altercation ■Was agreed to; but here the baggage master demanded a fee of fifty cents, which was denounced by the sportsman as a “swindle,” a “ put-up job,” between the conductor and the baggage-master; he added that sooner than pay it lie would tie the dog to the tram and let him work his passage. The conductor assented, and the dog was hitched to the rear of the train. The dog —so the narrative says—kept along easily with the train, but the conductor began to get uneasy, making frequent trips to the engineer, urging him to increase the speed of the train, ani back again to watch the effect upon the dog. The latter began to show some signs of fatigue, but after a while caught his “second wind,” and was keeping along as before. The conductor now ordered the engineer to heave all the coal into the furnace and stir up the fire, which being done, the spaed was perceptibly increased. The conductor again went to the rear of the car to observe the effect, but the dog had suddenly disappeared, whereupon he immediately, and with a triumphant air, called the sportsman’s attention to the fact. The latter, after taking a glance at the situation, quietly pointed to a crack in the floor of the car. “And there,” said he, “ was the dog comfortably trotting along under the car, and licking the grease from one of the axle boxes ! ” THE FLIRT OF THE THEATRE. She sat sn the front row of the parquet circle the other night, aud when she wasn’t flirting with tlie gentlemen whose faces she could see, she was discussing the people on the stsge. She was a beautiful blonde, with dark brown eyes, and her /ace attracted much attention. A fair, white skin ; rosy, dimpled cheeks, lips like cherries that grow nearest the sun, at the top of the tree ; pearly teeth, the regular rows of which showed themselves whenever she chose to let her musical laugh be heard (which was often) ; and a pretty-shaped head, crowned with a wealth of golden hair and the cunningest of hats. She talked aloud, and even made up faces nt the gentleman who stared at her. Ordinarily such a character, even though a female beauty, would have been unpleasant at the theatre, but somehow everybody seemed pleased with the lady. If T, G.’s glass did not deceive him, she was about four years old. The only portion of the play she seemed to understand and appreciate was a love-making scene.

When the laughter that followed tha exit of the lovers in the play had subtided, the little one turned to the young lady and said in a perfectly audible voice ; “Della, ’at’s dess ’e way cousin ; George tissed oo ’e uver day.”

The star was much disconcerted to hear a roar of laughter from a portion of the audience just as she made her tragic entrance on the next scene ; but the tribulation was insignificant by comparison with that of a certain couple, who will henceforth leave the “little flirt” at home when they go to the play.—“ Detroit Free Press.” HE MEDITATES OYER THE OTESTERS It was rather late yesterday morning when Mr Willaby got up, and he was vaguely suspicious of a confused recollection of things but ho didn’t say much, and tried to appear as cheerful as ho knew how. Presently breakfast was announced, and the family took their places at the table, but Mr Willaby. was amazed, as he sat staring at six little round wooden boxes of axle grease ranged solemnly in front of his plate. “Where under the sun,” he said, with a puzzled intonation, “what in thunder — where did all this axle grease come from and what is it for ?” “Oh, is it axle grease?” asked his wife, with charming simplicity and innocence just a trifle overdone. “Y~cu said last night when you brought these cans home that they were oysters, and would be nice for breakfast. I thought you had better eat them right away, as they didn’t smell as though they would keep very much longer.” And then Mrs Willaby removed the cans, and her husband sac and looked at the teapot, and thought so long that his coffee was as cold as a rich relation when he thought to drink it. “Toledo Blade,” A HORSE TRADE IN COLORADO. An honest miner sat in a contemplative mood before the door of a saloon in one of the crowded thoroughfares of Denver, He had “taken sugar in his’n ” several times, and now cast a wilful leok at intervals towards unprospected regions in the foot-hills where he hoped to strike a tellurium lead, now that “ the placer diggin’s was played out.” Slowly down the street came a solitary horseman, ill-mounted, poorly clad, meagrely equipped, and stopped in front of the sitter.

“Stranger,” said he, “I want to sell yer a horse.”

“ Stranger,” was the reply, “ I don’t want him.”

“Stranger,” rejoined the wayfarer, “yer reely must buy him. You never see a better horse for the price,” “What is the price, stranger?” asked the contemplative man. “ A hundred and fifty dollars, and flirt cheap at that.” The inquirer meditated for a few moments and then blandly remarked—- “ Stranger, I’ll give yer five.” The equestrian dismounted, saying with earnestness, “ Stranger, I won’t allow a hundred and forty-five dollars to stand between you and me and a trade. The horse is yours !”