Savour Morsels.

Thames Star, Volume XIV, Issue 4494, 31 May 1883, Page 2

Savour Morsels.

DREAMT IT.

A New Yorker who spent several weeks in the Black Hills country last fall met with some rare chances as soon as he left Denver. The first party took him.aside --\ and began :

"Say, stranger, are you after a mine?" " Well, perhaps." "Do you want the biggest spec in the West?"

" I might take it." - " Then you lay low. A sick raanjover here has dreamed three times running of finding the richest mine in the world, and I'll vet all the directions as to how to find it for 500dols. cash down."

The offer was not accepted, and within a few hours a second party had a "find" on hand that his brother h«adreamed out,. The third man wanted to sell bis father's dream for 200 dols , and the fourth had a dream or his own to sell cheap fur cash. When the fifth one began negotiations the New Yorker cut him short with: "Say. don't do it! you are the fifth mail' who has tried the dream business on me this week. Don't you do anything but dream out here ?" " Well, there's a good deal of- dreaming around this locality," placidly answered the, man —"in fact, too'much of it. If some of the boys don't quit the businossl reckon I'll hare to go back to N salting mines and selling out to Chinamen." J^"

The following anecdote is told of Wagner:—When in Naples he was troubled, it is said, with headache, so he sent to have his hair out short. When the barber received the gammons and heard its purport, he sold averjp {.pros. • pective hair of Wagner's head .'to' his' admirers, getting half the money dbwn. To the barber's intense chagrin, Madame Wagner witnessed the operation, and appropriated the whole of, the severed hair to her own use. What was to be*, done? The hairdresser made a clean, breast of it to madame, and she suggested; that a butcher round the corner had/tie same kind of hair as her husband. And. half Naples slept that night with the hair, of the butcher under its pillows.

A new poet of the Oscar Wilde brand has appeared, and he has published a little volume of his ; verse. His name, or perhaps his nomele plume, is Kennell Bodd,. and in one. of his songs he sings, " Ah* wild swan, wiDging southward, I would* fly with you to-night. Southward, e?er swiftly southward, through the autumn grey twilight." We advise him not to fly,/ It. wouldn't be safe.; If the pair were •een winging southward by a gunner, the goose would be shot and the swan left flying alone.

A young nan from the agricultural districts was lately in a tailor's «hop getting measured tor a vest. " Married or unmarried ?" queried the tailor, after taking down the number. " Unmarried," said the young man with a blush. " In» side pocket on the left hand side then," -observed the tailor, as if to himself, making a memorandum to that effect. After a few moments' pause the young xna*. was prompted to ask, " What difference does my being married or unmarried make as to the inside pocket of the Test P" •• Ah, my dear sir," observed the tailor, with a bland smile*, " all the difference possible, as you must see. Being unmarried, you want the pocket on the left Bide, so as to bring the young lady's picture next to your heart? "But doesn't the married man also want his Wife's picture next to his heart? " queried the anxious youth. " Possibly there is an instance of that kind," said the tailor, arching his eyebrows, " but I never heard of it."

A baric.that arrived in New York a few "- days ago;ireported that three of the sailors were washed overboard one day by a heavy " tea* and the return swell-swept them back into the vessel again. That might have easily occurred. -It recalls the incident of the girl who fell out of a fourth story window, and alighting on her patent Indiarubber bustle, was bounced back into the witujpw uninjured^