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Hawke's Bay Times, Volume III, Issue 168, 1 April 1864, Page 3

A laugiLviile'incident is related of a jealous woman, at Lewiston, Maine, who went into an auction-room the other day, and saw, as she supposed, her husband very familiarly sitting beside a young lady. Stepping up sottly, she seized a head in each of her hands, and pounded them together a number of times at a great rate. Her surprise may be imagined when she found that the innocent stranger was not her “ worser half.” She apologized and passed on, amid the laughter and great merriment of the crowd. The last idea of Paris is a plan in alto-relievo of the whole of Europe, not in maps or models, but actually raised out of the ground. A garden is to be set aside for the modeller ; who, taking “ Mont Blanc,” fifteen feet high, as his point de depart, is to raise, in just proportion around it, the rest of the mountains of Europe, pour the seas into their proper places, and intersect the whole with roads, canals, railways, and telegraphs. A steam-engine is to act the part of moon, and regulate the tides. It will be a geographical garden, where “he who runs may read”—when it is accomplished.

Mutiny ox board op the Pawn. —The brig Faiun has'been brought into-Otago seamen from the Felorus man-of-war. They reported that the crew of the Fawn had mutinied off the Isle of St. Paul’s, and the Captain having|hoisted the Ensign upside down, as a signal for assistance, Capt. Boyd, ot the Felorus, bore down and boarded her He held a court-martial, and” took on board the Felorus the mate, second mate, cook, and two hands. He left three of the men on board of the Fawn, and proceeded to Singapore. The Fawn was chartered by Messrs. Dalgety, Battrey, & Co. from Mauritius with sugar. A Hockshioneeb. —“ Sally, I’ve a sweetheart — such a nice young man ! V He’s in o profession 1” “Oh, Jemima! don’t use such wicked words.” “ It ain’t a wicked word at all, Sally—it’s a business.” “Business, Jemima? what business?” “ Guess, Sally, what it is. Itj'begins with H.” “I know Jemima —it’s a hofficer ” “No it ain’t though ; its something much better than an hosifer.” “ Then it’s a horange merchant —that’s it, Jemima!” “ Oh, you hateful thing—to think of anything so wulgar! He’s a hockshioneer.”

“ My mother,” said a conceited fop to Talleyrand, “ was renowned for her beauty; she was certainly the handsomest woman I have overseen.” “ Ah !” said Talleyrand, looking him through, and taking his measure at once, “it was your father, then, who was not good-looking.”

Social Science. —Mixing whiskey-toddv. Where does Neptune stable his horses ? Whv, wherever the Sea-Mews may be, of course.