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Waikato Times, Volume XXVIII, Issue 2304, 16 April 1887, Page 1 (Supplement)

Algy: "Do you think, my love, that your father will consent to our marriage ?" Angely : "Of course papa will be very sorry to lose me, darling:." Algy : "But I will say to him that, instead of losing a daughter, he will gain a son." Aneely: "I wouldn't do that, love, if you really want me. Papa has three such sons living at home now, and he's a little bit touchy on the point."

The commitment of John M'Nulty better known as " Coal Oil Johnny," to the county gaol of Burlington, New, Jersey, XI. S. , as a tramp marks the last step in one of the most eventful careers of modern times. Twenty-five years ago, during the period when the petroleum craze was at its height, John M'Nulty, by a sudden stroke of luck, became enormously rich. For many years, while the money lasted, he lived like a prince, throwing away his wealth in the most lavish fashion, and spending thousands of dollars in single gifts to those whom he fancied. His name and actions were proverbial with the newspapers of the day. Then a reverse of fickle fortune came. His fall from the height of wealth and popularity was as sudden and signal as had been his rise. He appealed in vain to those who had been the former recipients of his bounty—all refused to aid him. From that time he has gradually descended lower and lower in the social scale, until now he has no place to lay his head, and the quandom possessor of millions is the occupant of a dreary cell in Mount Holly gaol. He still loves to indulge in pleasing reminiscences of his [last life, and thinks there is yet time for luck to change.

Ax Irishman at ax American Post Oi-TICE.—Pat: " Hove ye iver a letthei , for meeself?" Urbane clerk: "What name?" P;it : "Why my own name av' (Miii'sc : whose else?'' Clerk (still urbane), '' Well, what is your name?" Pat: " Me name's the same as me father's afore me, and would be yet, only he's dead." Clerk (not quite so urbane): " Well, what do you call yourself?" Pat: "I call meeself a gentleman : and it'd a pity there aront a eouule of us !" Clerk (with dignity) "Stand back!" Pat: "It's buck I'll stand when [ gits my letther." Clerk (sternly): " How can I give it you, if you don't tell Mic who you are, you stupid bog-trotter?" Pat: ''Thin is that what you're paid for ; abnsin' honest people that ciime fur their rights ? Give me the letther, or by the whiskers o' Kate Kearney's cat, I'll oast me vote agin ye, when I gets me papers." Clerk (very nearly angry): '"You blundering blockhead, can't you tell me how your letter is addressed?" Pat (contemptously): "'Dressed?' How should it be dressed, barrin' a sheet of paper, like any other letther?" Clerk (decidedly angry): " Confound you ! can't you fell me who you are?" Pat: "Bedad, I'm an Irishman, bred an' born, seed, breed, an' gimigration. My father was cousin to Larry Magra, an' me mother belonged to the Mooneys of Kilmanaisy. You're an ignorant old shalpeen : and if ye'll creep out o' your disty hole, I'll welt you like a new shoe ! and if you get any more satisfaction out of me, me name is not Barney O'Fiynu !" Clerk (mollified): " Oh. that's your name, is it?" And, in whist phrase, he " shuffles " the letters, and " deals " one to Barney, who " cuts."

The Preacher and the Pexitkxt Printer.—Minister : " And you feel an awakening withiu you, my friend?" Penitent Printer : " I do, sir, I feel that I have been a great sinner, a very great sinner. lam afraid there's no salvation forme." M. " Come, come, my friend, do not be despondent. Yon know the lines, being a printer, about the vilest sinner returning. I think you are in a hopeful condition, a very hopeful condition." P.P.: "All! but I have been such a Sabbath breaker." M. : " Working on a Sunday paper, I presurr. '?" P.'P : " Oh, no. The men who work "on Sunday papers doivt break the Sabbath. Their work is done on Saturday night. I work on a daily paper, and the Monday morning issue is all set up on Sundays. But I'm determined to leave the business ; I'll break the Sabbath no more by sotting type.' , M. "I rejoice to find you in such a frame of mind. You will be a bright and shining light in the church one of those days. And you have had to set type on Sundays, my poor friend—reports of dog fights, pugilistic mills and so forth. I suppose '." P.P. (weeping bitterly) :" No, sir ; principally reports of ministers' sermons, in solid nonpareil."—Boston Courier.