The eye-glass came up as calmly, as deliberately as ever. "Ah - Ferguson what did I understand you to say the gentleman's name was?" "Name? my!" "Yes, yes. - he got no name! - Mummy!-'Gyptian mum Born here?" "No! 'Gyptian mummy! "Ah, just so. Frenchman, I presume." "No! not Frenchman, not Roman! - born in Egypta ! "Born in Egypta. Never heard of Egypta before. Foreign locality, likely. Mummy mummy. How calm he is - how self-possessed. Is, ah is he dead?" 66 'Oh, sacre bleu ! been dead three thousand years!" The doctor turned on him savagely: "Here, now, what do mean by such conduct as this! Playing us for Chinamen because we are strangers and trying to learn! Trying to impose your vile second-hand carcasses on us! thunder and lightning. I've a notion to to if you've got a nice fresh corpse, fetch him out! or, by George, we 'll brain you! We make it exceedingly interesting for this Frenchman. However, he has paid us back, partly, without knowing it. He came to the hotel this morning to ask if we were up, and he endeavored as well as he could to describe us, so that the landlord would know which persons he meant. He finished with the casual remark that we were lunatics. The observation was so innocent, and so honest, that it amounted to a very good thing for a guide to say. Samuel L. Clemens. Said Mr. Bray to Mr. Clay, "You choose to rival me, And court Miss Bell; but there your court "Unless you now give up your suit, You may repent your love; "So, pray, before you woo her more, If you pop aught to Lucy Bell, I'll pop it into you." But first they found a friend apiece, This pleasant thought to give That when they both were dead, they'd have Two seconds yet to live. To measure out the ground, not long The seconds next forbore; And having taken one rash step, They took a dozen more. They next prepared each pistol pan. Now all was ready for the foes; But when they took their stands, Fear made them tremble so, they found They both were shaking hands. Said Mr. C. to Mr. B., "Here one of us must fall, And, like St. Paul's Cathedral now, Be doomed to have a ball. MUSIC FOR THE MILLION AMONGST the great inventions of this age, Is one, Which every other century surpasses, - just now the rage, Called "Singing for all classes," That now, alas! have no more ear than asses, In time and tune, Correct as clocks, and musical as glasses! Whether this grand harmonic scheme Is more than I pretend to guess - T. Hood In one of those small, quiet streets, To shun the daily bustle and the noise But land, joint-companies, and life-insurance In one of these back streets, to peace so dear, Began to sing with all his might, "I have a silent sorrow here!" Heard in that quiet place, His voice had all Lablache's body, in it; Only a forty-boatswain power of bawling! 'T was said indeed for want of vocal nous The stage had banished him when he 'tempted it, For though his voice completely filled the house, It also emptied it. However, there he stood Vociferous a ragged don! And with his iron pipes laid on A row to all the neighborhood. In vain were sashes closed, And doors against the persevering Stentor; |