Part 16

I. THE SOUTHERN CONFEDERACY.--That is the house that Jeff. built.

II. THE ETHIOPIAN.--This is the malt that lay in the house that Jeff. built.

III. THE UNDERGROUND RAILROAD.--This is the rat that eat the malt that lay in the house that Jeff. built.

IV. THE FUGITIVE SLAVE LAW.--This is the cat that killed the rat that eat the malt that lay in the house that Jeff. built.

V. THE PERSONAL LIBERTY BILL.--This is the dog that worried the cat that killed the rat that eat the malt that lay in the house that Jeff. built.

VI. CHIEF JUSTICE TANEY.--This is the cow with crumpled horn that tossed the dog that worried the cat that killed the rat that eat the malt that lay in the house that Jeff. built.

VII. JAMES BUCHANAN.--This is the maiden all forlorn that milked the cow with crumpled horn that tossed the dog that worried the cat that killed the rat that eat the malt that lay in the house that Jeff. built.

VIII. C. CESH.--This is the man all tattered and torn that married the maiden all forlorn that milked the cow with crumpled horn that tossed the dog that worried the cat that killed the rat that eat the malt that lay in the house that Jeff. built.

IX. PLUNDER.--This is the priest all shaven and shorn that married the man all tattered and torn to the maiden all forlorn that milked the cow with crumpled horn that tossed the dog that worried the cat that killed the rat that eat the malt that lay in the house that Jeff. built.

PUZZLED.--579.

At the Sutter House, Sacramento, a New Yorker, newly arrived, was lamenting his condition, and his folly in leaving an abundance at home, and especially two beautiful daughters, who were just budding into womanhood, when he asked the other if he had a family. "Yes, Sir, I have a wife and six children in New York, and I never saw one of them." After this reply, the couple sat a few minutes in silence, and then the interrogator again commenced. "Were you ever blind, Sir?"--"No, Sir." "Did you marry a widow, Sir?"--"No, Sir." Another lapse of silence. "Did I understand you to say, Sir, that you had a wife and six children living in New York, and had never seen one of them?"--"Yes, Sir, I so stated it." Another and a longer pause of silence. The interrogator again enquired--"How can it be, Sir, that you never saw one of them?" "Why," was the response, "_one_ of them was born after I left." "Oh, ah!" and a general laugh followed. After that, the first New Yorker was especially distinguished as the man who has six children and never saw one of them.

THE PAPER COLLARS.--580.

It is said the Southerns captured at Mansfield two waggons loaded with paper collars, and that General Dick Taylor returned the collars through a flag of truce, with a letter to General Banks, in which the facetious rebel said:--"I have boiled, baked, and stewed these things, and can do nothing with them. We cannot eat them. They are a luxury for which we have no use, and I would like, therefore, to exchange them for a like quantity of hard tack." The joke is a good one, and has convulsed the Western boys, who have no great admiration for the "Liberator of Louisiana." When the Western troops passed General Banks's head-quarters, coming into Alexandria, they groaned, jeered, and called aloud, "How about those paper collars?"

CAUSE AND EFFECT.--581.

Many of the United States papers give with every death they announce the name of the physician who attended the defunct. The following specimen, from a New Orleans journal, will show the business-like manner in which the matter is gone about:--"Died, at his house in Cotton Street, Jonathan Smith, storekeeper. He was a well-doing citizen, and deservedly respected. His wife carries on the store. Gregson physician." The name of the doctor renders the affair complete.

PROFIT AND LOSS.--582.

The keeper of a groggery in New York happened one day to break one of his tumblers. He stood for a moment looking at the fragments, reflecting on his loss; and then turning to his assistant, he cried out, "Tom, put a quart of water into that old Cognac."

THE "NAYGERS."--583.

When the question of the enlistment of the negroes in the Northern army was first mooted, the following song made its appearance, and became very popular. It is supposed to be written by one Miles O'Reilly, a private soldier in the Army of the Potomac. Miles is altogether an imaginary personage, and is represented by his clever inventors as the typical Hibernian soldier of the war. The song is sung to the Irish air of the "Low-backed Car":--

"Some tell us 'tis a burning shame To make the naygers fight, And that the thrade of being kilt Belongs but to the white; But as for me, upon my sowl-- So liberal are we here-- I'll let Sambo be murther'd instead of myself On every day in the year. On every day in the year, boys, And in every hour of the day, The right to be killt I'll divide wid him, And divil a word I'll say.

"In battle's wild commotion I shouldn't at all object If Sambo's body should stop a ball That was coming for me direct. And the prod of a Southern bagnet-- So generous are we here-- I'll resign, and let Sambo take it On every day in the year. So hear me, all boys, darlins, Don't think I'm tippin' you chaff, The right to be killt we'll divide wid him, And give him the largest half."

PICKLED ELEPHANT.--584.

Old Rowe kept a hotel in the northern part of York State, which he boasted was the best in those parts; where, as he used to say, you could get anything that was ever made to eat. One day in came a Yankee. He sent his horse round to the stable, and stepping up to the bar, asked old Rowe what he could give him for dinner. "Anything, Sir," said old Rowe; "anything from a pickled elephant to a canary-bird's tongue." "Wal," says the Yankee, eyeing Rowe, "I guess I'll take a piece of pickled elephant." Out bustles Howe into the dining-room, leaving our Yankee friend nonplussed at his gravity. Presently he comes back again. "Well, we've got 'em; got 'em all ready, right here in the house; but you'll have to take a whole 'un, 'cause we never cut 'em." The Yankee thought he would take some cod fish and potatoes.

SAME DRUNK.--585.

A gentleman, finding his servant intoxicated, said, "What, drunk again, Sam? I scolded you for being drunk last night, and here you are drunk again." "No, massa; same drunk, massa, same drunk," replied Sambo.

CATCHING.--586.

"Jem, you've been drinking." "No, I haven't; I've been looking at another man drinking, and it was too much for me."

TO MAKE LEECHES BITE.--587.

If the leech will not bite, bind him apprentice to a broker for a week, and his teeth will become so sharp that he will bite through the bottom of a brass kettle.

LACONIC.--588.

"Hillo, master," said a Yankee to a teamster, who appeared in something of a hurry, "What time is it?--Where are you going?--How deep is the creek?--And what is the price of the butter?" "Past one, almost two--home--waist deep--and elevenpence," was the reply.

AIDS TO MEMORY.--589.

A paper publishes a story in which it is stated that a man who came very near drowning had a wonderful recollection of every event which had occurred during his life. There are a _few_ of our subscribers whom we would recommend to practice bathing in deep water.

SIMMONS ON LIFE.--590.

"What is the use of living?" asked Jack Simmons the other day. "We are flogged for crying when we are babies, flogged because the master is cross when we are boys, obliged to toil, sick or well, or starve, when we are men, to toil still harder when we are husbands, and after exhausting life and strength in the service of other people, die, and leave our children to quarrel about the possession of father's watch, and our wives to catch somebody else."

CUTE EXPEDIENT.--591.

There was a law in Boston against smoking in the street. A down-easter strutted about the city one day, puffing at a cigar. Up walked the constable. "Guess your smokin'," he said. "You'll pay two dollars, stranger." "I ain't smokin'," was the quick response, "try the weed yourself; it ain't alight." The constable took a pull at the cigar, and out came a long puff of white smoke. "Guess you'll pay _me_ two dollars," said the down-easter, quietly. "Wal," replied the constable, "I calc'late you're considerable sharp. S'pose we liquor."

A MILD ASSERTION.--592.

This is to certify that I have always been bald, and have used up a barrel of common hair-dye. I accidentally heard of your Invigorator, and purchased a bottle, and carried it home in my overcoat pocket. The pocket was full of hair when I got home! I took the bottle and held it in the sun, when the shadow fell on my head. A thick head of chestnut-coloured hair grew out in thirty minutes by the watch, all curled and perfumed. Send me twenty bottles by return mail.

FRIENDLY NOTICE.--593.

The editor of the _Florence Inquirer_ gives the following notice to one of his friends--"The gentleman who took out of our library the number of _Graham's Magazine_, is respectfully invited to call again in about two weeks and get the number for August."

TIPPING THEM LATIN.--594.

Andrew Jackson was once making a stump speech out West in a small village. Just as he was concluding amen, Kendall, who sat behind him, whispered, "Tip 'em a little Latin, General; they won't be content without it." The man of iron instantly thought upon a few phrases he knew, and in a voice of thunder he wound up his speech by exclaiming--"_E pluribus unum--sine qua non--ne plus ultra--multum in parvo_." The effect was tremendous, and the Hoosier's shouts could be heard for miles.

A SOLID REASON.--595.

A distinguished Southern gentleman, dining at a New York hotel, was annoyed at a negro servant continually waiting upon him, and desired him one day at dinner to retire. "Excuse me, Sir," said Cuffy, drawing himself up, "but I'se 'sponsible for de silver."

SQUASHED.--596.

A romantic youth, promenading in a fashionable street in New York, picked up a thimble. He stood awhile, meditating upon the probable beauty of the owner, when he pressed it to his lips, saying, "Oh, that it were the fair cheek of the wearer!" Just as he had finished, a stout, elderly negress looked out of an upper window, and said, "Massa, jist please to bring dat fimble of mine in de entry--I jist drapt it."

BRIGHT AND BLUE.--597.

I met her in the sunset bright, her gingham gown was blue; her eyes, that danced with pure delight, were of the same dear hue. And always when the sun goes down, I think of the girl in the gingham gown.

OYSTERS.--598.

A man seeing an oyster vendor pass by, called out, "Give me a pound of oysters!" "We sell oysters by measure, not by weight," replied the other. "Well," said he, "give me a yard of them."

ABSTRACTION.--599.

An editor at a dinner-table being asked if he would take some pudding, replied in a fit of abstraction, "Owing to a crowd of other matter we are unable to find room for it."

MODERN DEFINITIONS NOT FOUND IN ANY OF THE ANCIENT DICTIONARIES.--600.

_Hard Times._--Sitting on a cold grindstone and reading the President's message.

_Love._--A little world within itself intimately connected with shovel and tongs.

_Genteel Society._--A place where the rake is honoured and the moralist condemned.

_Poetry._--A bottle of ink thrown over a sheet of foolscap.

_Politician._--A fellow that culls all his knowledge from borrowed newspapers.

_Patriot._--A man who has neither property nor reputation to lose.

_Independence._--Owing fifty thousand dollars which you never intend to pay.

_Lovely Woman._--An article manufactured by milliners.

"One wants but little here below, And wants that little for a _show_."

FIRM FOUNDATION.--601.

The editor of the _Albany Express_ says, the only reason why his dwelling was not blown away in a late storm was because there was a heavy mortgage on it.

GALLANT CORRECTION.--602.

An American agricultural society offers premiums to farmers' daughters--"girls under twenty-one years of age," who shall exhibit the best lots of butter, not less than 10 lbs. "That's all right," says a New York paper, "save the insinuation that some girls are over twenty-one years of age."

HARD HEARING.--603.

We know a man down East whose hearing is so hard that he broke it up and sold it for gun-flints.

YANKEE MODESTY.--604.

I cannot bear egotism. I never like to praise myself; but, humanly speaking, I can double up any two men in these diggings, take the bark off a tree by looking at it, and bore a hole through a board fence with my eye. But I don't praise myself. I leave others to give my character.

A REBUKE.--605.

A Yankee, whose face had been mauled in a pot-house brawl, assured General Jackson that he had received his scars in battle. "Then," said Old Hickory, "be careful the next time you run away, and don't look back."

MONSTER PUNCH-BOWL.--606.

A Kentuckian, on hearing praised the Rutland Punch-bowl, which on the christening of the young Marquis was built so large that a small boat was actually set sailing upon it, in which a boy sat, who laddled out the liquor, exclaimed, "I guess I've seen a bowl that 'ud beat that to smash; for, at my brother's christening, the bowl was so deep, that when we young'uns said it warn't sweet enough, father sent a man down in a diving-bell to stir up the sugar at the bottom."

LONG LIVERS.--607.

The people live uncommon long at Vermont. There are two men there so old that they have forgotten who they are, and there is nobody alive who can remember it for them.

REMARKABLE SKIPPER.--608.

It is said that there is a skipper in New York who has crossed the Atlantic so often that he knows every wave by sight.

YOUTH INDIGNANT.--609.

A lad was subpoenaed as a witness in one of the American courts. The judge said, "Put the boy upon evidence," upon hearing which young America exclaimed, "Who are you calling a boy? W'e chewed baccy these two years."

DANIEL WEBSTER.--610.

The _Salem Register_ tells this good story. Daniel Webster was once standing in company with several other gentlemen in the Capitol at Washington, as a drove of mules were going past. "Webster," said one of the Southern gentlemen, "there go some of your constituents." "Yes," instantly replied Mr. Webster, "they are going South to teach school."

THANKS TO HIS HENS.--611.

A man in Missouri planted some beans late one afternoon, and next morning they were _up_--thanks to his hens.

CONFIDENCE NECESSARY.--612.

The _Boston Post_ says--"All that is necessary for the enjoyment of sausages is _confidence_."

PAINFUL NECESSITY.--613.

During the long drought of last summer, an American paper says, water became so scarce in a certain parish that the farmers' wives were obliged to send their milk to town genuine.

ANSWERED AT ONCE.--614.

An American clergyman, preaching a drowsy sermon, asked, "What is the price of earthly pleasure?" The deacon, a fat grocer, woke up hastily from a sound sleep, and cried out lustily, "Seven and sixpence a dozen."

MORE COPY.--615.

Once in autumn, wet and dreary, sat this writer, weak and weary, pondering over a memorandum book of items used before--book of scrawling head notes, rather; items taking days to gather them in hot and sultry weather, using up much time and leather, pondered we those times o'er. While we conned them, slowly rocking (through our mind queer ideas flocking) came a quick and nervous knocking--knocking at our sanctum door. "Sure, that must be Jinks," we muttered--"Jinks that's knocking at our door; Jinks, the everlasting bore." Ah, well do we remind us, in the walls which then confined us, the "exchanges," lay behind us, and before us, and around us, all scattered o'er the floor. Thought we, "Jinks wants to borrow some papers till to-morrow, and 'twill be relief from sorrow to get rid of Jinks the bore, by opening wide the door." Still the visitor kept knocking--knocking louder than before. And the scattered piles of papers, cut some rather curious capers, being lifted by the breezes coming through another door; and we wished (the wish was evil, for one deemed always civil) that Jinks was to the d----l, to stay there evermore; there to find his level--Jinks the nerve-unstringing bore. Bracing up our patience firmer, then, without another murmur, "Mr. Jinks," said we, "your pardon, your forgiveness we implore. But the fact is, we were reading of some curious proceeding, and thus it was, unheeding your loud knocking there before." Here we opened wide the door. But phancy now our pheelins--for it wasn't Jinks the bore--Jinks, nameless, evermore! But the form that stood before us, caused a trembling to come o'er us, and memory quickly bore us back again to days of yore--days when items were in plenty, and where'er this writer went he picked up interesting items by the score. 'Twas the form of our "devil," in an attitude uncivil; and he thrust his head within the open door, with "The foreman's _out o' copy_, sir--he says he wants some more!" Yes, like Alexander, wanted "more." Now this "local" had already walked about till nearly dead--he had sauntered through the city till his feet were very sore--and walked through the street called Market, and the byways running off into the portions of the city, both public and obscure; had examined store and cellar, and had questioned every "feller" whom he met from door to door, if anything was stirring--any accident occurring--not published heretofore--and he had met with no success; he would rather guess he felt a little wicked at that ugly little bore, with the message from the foreman that he wanted "something more." "Now, it's time you were departing, you scamp!" cried we, upstarting. "Get you back into your office--office where you were before--or the words that you have spoken will get your bones all broken;" (and we seized a cudgel, oaken--that was lying on the floor); "take your hands out of your pockets, and leave the sanctum door; tell the foreman there's no copy, you ugly little bore." Quoth the devil, "send him more." And our devil, never sitting, still is flitting, still is flitting, back and forth upon the landing, just outside the sanctum door. Tears adown his cheeks are streaming--strange light from his eye is beaming--and his voice is heard, still crying, "Sir, the foreman wants some more." And our soul pierced with the screaming, is awakened from its dreaming, and has lost the peaceful feeling; for the fancy will come o'er us, that each reader's face before us, hears the horrid words--"We want a little more!"--Words on their foreheads glaring, "Your 'funny' column needs a little more!"

POPPING CORN.--616.

And there they sat a-popping corn, John Stiles and Susan Cutter; John Stiles as stout as any ox, And Susan fat as butter.

And there they sat and shelled the corn, And raked and stirred the fire, And talked of different kinds of ears, And hitched their chairs up nigher.

Then Susan she the popper shook, Then John he shook the popper, Till both their faces grew as red As saucepans made of copper.

And then they shelled and popped and ate, And kinks of fun a-poking, And he haw-hawed at her remarks, And she laughed at his joking.

And still they popped, and still they ate (John's mouth was like a hopper), And stirred the fire and sparkled salt, And shook and shook the popper.

The clock struck nine, the clock struck ten, And still the corn kept popping: It struck eleven, and then struck twelve, And still no signs of stopping.

And John he ate, and Sue she thought-- The corn did pop and patter, Till John cried out: "The corn's a fire! Why, Susan, what's the matter?"

Said she, "John Stiles, it's one o'clock; You'll die of indigestion; I'm sick of all this popping corn, Why don't you Pop the Question?"

POWERFUL SERMON.--617.

Judge ---- had noticed for some time that on Monday morning his Jamaica was considerably lighter than he had left it on Saturday night. Another fact had established itself in his mind. His son Sam was missing from the parental pew on Sundays. On Sunday afternoon, Sam came in and went up stairs very heavy, when the judge put the question to him: "Sam, where have you been?" "To church, sir," was the prompt reply.--"What church, Sam?" "Second Methodist, sir."--"Had a good sermon, Sam?" "Very powerful, sir; it quite staggered me."--"Ah! I see," said the Judge, "quite powerful!" The next Sunday the son came home rather earlier than usual, and apparently not so much under the weather. His father hailed him with, "Well, Sam, been to the Second Methodist again to-day?" "Yes, sir."--"Good sermon, my boy?" "Fact was, father, that I couldn't get in; the church was shut up, and a ticket on the door."--"Sorry, Sam; keep going, you may get good by it yet." Sam says that on going to the office for his usual refreshment, he found the "John" empty, and bearing the following label:--"There will be no service here to-day; the church is temporarily closed."

HUGGING.--618.

An editor in Iowa has been fined two hundred dollars for hugging a girl in church.--_Early Argus._ Cheap enough! We once hugged a girl in church some ten years ago, and it has cost a thousand a year ever since.--_Chicago Young American._

TART.--619.

Mr. Mewins was courting a young lady of some attractions, and something of a fortune into the bargain. After a liberal arrangement had been made for the young lady by her father, Mr. Mewins, having taken a particular fancy to a little brown mare, demanded that it should be thrown into the bargain; and, upon a positive refusal, the match was broken off. After a couple of years the parties accidentally met at a country ball. Mr. Mewins was quite willing to renew the engagement. The lady appeared not to have the slightest recollection of him. "Surely you have not forgotten me," said he.--"What name, sir?" she inquired. "Mewins," he replied; "I had the honour of paying my addresses to you, about two years ago." "I remember a person of that name," she rejoined, "who paid his attentions to my father's brown mare."

WHO FIDDLED.--620.

In the Pennsylvania Legislature, two years ago, there was a member named Charlie Wilson, from one of the Northern frontier counties, who considered himself among the great orators of the day, and, when pretty well filled with "Harrisburg water," would get off for the edification of his colleagues some very rich illustrations. Being somewhat interested in a bill before the House, he made what he considered one of his master-speeches, during the delivery of which he used the illustration of "Nero fiddling while Rome was burning." He had scarcely taken his seat when a member tapped him on the shoulder, and said: "Say, Charlie, it wasn't Nero that 'fiddled,' it was Cæsar. You should correct that before it goes on the record." In an instant he was upon his feet, and exclaimed. "Mr. Speaker--Mr. Speaker--I made a mistake. It wasn't Nero that 'fiddled' while Rome was burning; it was _Julius Cæsar_." Happily for him, the Speaker was so busily engaged that he did not hear him; but some members near heard and enjoyed the joke. Afterwards some one told him that he was right in the first place, which resulted in his reading all the ancient history in the State Library during the remainder of the winter, to assure himself as to who it was that "fiddled."

BONNETS.--621.

An old bachelor, who has evidently been taken in by a love of a bonnet, thus discourseth:--