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Wairarapa Standard, Volume II, Issue 57, 1 February 1868, Page 3

“ What’s gone of yonr husband, woman? ” —“What’s gone of him, ycr honour? Faith, and he,s gone dead.” “Ae”! what did he die of?” Die of, ycr honour ? lie died of a Friday.” I don’t mean what day of the week, but what complaint ” —“ Oh ! wind complaint, yer honour ? Faith an’ its himself that didn't get time to complain.’ 41 Oh! he died suddenly ? ’ —“Rather that way, yer honour” “ Did he fall in a fit?”—No answer. “He fell down in a fit, perhaps ?” —“ A fit, ycr honour ? Why, not exactly that. He fell out of a window, or through a cellar door—l don’t know what they call if.” “Ay,ay! and broke his neck?” —“No, not quite that, yer worship.” “What then?”—“ There w'asahito’string, or thatlike, and it throttled poor Mike.” Loan Macaulay’ passing one day through the Seven Dials, bought a handful of ballads from some street singers who were bawling out there contents to a gaping audience. Proceeding on his way homo, he was astonished to find himself followed by half a score of urchins, there tacos beaming with expectation. “ Now then, my lads, what is it! ” said he. Oil, that’s a good ’un,” replied one of the boys, “after we’ve come all ibis way.”—“Rut what are you waiting fog ?' said the historian, astonished at the lad’s famililarity. “ Waiting for! why, ain’t you going to sing, guv’ncr?" Fexelox. who often teased Richelieu (and ineffectually, it would seem) for subscriptions to charitable undertakings, was one day telling him that he had just seen his picture. “ And did you ask it for a subscription?” said Richelieu, snceringly. “ No! I saw there was no chance,” replied the other, “ it was so like you.”

“ Gnxrn\i.," said a sickly Copperhead to Joe Johnston at the New York Hotel, “ they didn’t whip ns, did they ? they only overran ns” “Were you in the Southern array?” said Joe Johnston. “Oh no, sir, I stayed, at home.” “ Well! ” finished the General, “ they may not have whipped yon, but they whipp.il “ me” pretty well! ”

Extraordinary Lake. —The “ Sentinel," published at Jacksonville, Oregon, on the 1 2th ult. says: “Severn of our citizens returned last week from a visit to the great -sunken L'ke, situated in Cascade 'Mountains, about 75 miles north-east from Jacksonville. This lake rivals the famous valley ofSindhandthc Sailor, It is thought to average two thousand feet down down to the water all round. The Avails are altnos perpendicular, running down into the water and leaving no beach. The depth is unknown, and its surface is smooth and unruffled, and it lies so far below the surface of the mountain that the air currents do not affect it. Its length is estimated at twelve miles and breadth at ten. No living man ever has readied and probably never will he able to reach the water’s edge. It ’ics silent, still, and mysterious in the bosom of the ‘everlasting hills,’like a huge well scooped out by thehands of the giaut’gcaii of the mountain in'ages gone by, primeval forest watch and ward are keeping. The visiting party fired a rifle into the water sevral times at an angle of 45 degrees, an.) were able to note several seomds of time from the report of the gun until the hall struck the water. Such seems inci edible hut is vouched for by some ■ T our most reliable citizens.