VARIETIES.

South Canterbury Times, Issue 2233, 14 May 1880, Page 3

VARIETIES.

Prompt proceeding.—The other day Black-hills stage-driver undertook to horsewhip his passengers into getting out and pushing up hill, but the goldseekers emptied their revolvers into him a few times, and held a coroner’s inquest, and found that he died of pneumonia.

Something Wrong.—We have heard of some Indians out West who captured a lot of kerosene in a whisky barrel,! and drank some, thinking it was liquor, and when they discovered their mistake and sat down to smoke and think the matter over, the result was frightul. Now, Gath, it’s your turn.

He was n(ot) a Careful Man.—Jolliboy : “ Well, old boy. I’m sorry to see you looking so down. What’s the matter? ” Friend : “ Oh, I’ve lost a cousin of my wife’s.” Jolliboy : “ Dear dear ! Why, it was only the other day I met you, you had lost your mother-in-law’s sister. What a careless man you are!” Affable Officer.— Guard. “Now, miss, jump in ; train going on.” Child: “But I can’t go before I have kissed mamma.” Guard: “Jumpin, miss; I’ll sec to that.”

Did you ever notice the fact—of course you have-—that a tramp who claims lie has a trade, but can’t get no work at it, in the winter he is a brickmaker, and in the summer a lumberman or ice sawyer. Mr John Fortune, of Fond du Lac, Wis., recently became the father of twin girls. When ho first looked upon the new comers ho smiled a sort of ghastly smile, and remarked: “ Well, I suppose it is all right, for it is said Miss Fortunes never come single.”

6?? Aquatics—“ Just suppose those abam cloned sinners had sawed Noa.h’s ark in two?” was a problem by the Albany “Journal,” but it was quickly answered by the New York “ People ”:—“The result would have been the same in all human probability—there would have been no race.

Tlic Widow’s'Mite.—A small boy, who lias lost his father and gets spanked by his mother twiec a day, was asked in Sunday school, the other day, to describe the parable of the widow’s mite. With his left hand convulsively clutching the termination of his spinal column, and a voice choked by emotion, he said wildly : “ There ain’t no description to it. If you ever got yanked on to my mother's knee when she’s got a new hickory twig, you’d know all about the widow's might yourself, bet ycr life!” What’s in a name. —Among a party who wore visiting the beautiful country estate of a Boston business man recently was a gentleman considerably interested in ornithology. As they passed through the grounds he accosted a labourer, and asked, “Has Mr 13 any macaws on the place now ?” Hosting from his labours, the son of Erin replied, “M'Caws, is it ? Begorra, I don’t remember any of that name ; but there are the two M'Giucsscs ;at woork forninst the barn.”