In a recent trial of a “bootlegger” in western Kentucky a witness testified that he had purchased some “squirrel” whisky from the defendant.

“Squirrel whisky?” questioned the court.

“Yes, you know:  the kind that makes you talk nutty and want to climb trees.”

General Carter, who went to Texas in command of the regulars sent south for maneuvers along the Mexican border, tells this story of an old Irish soldier:  The march had been a long and tiresome one, and as the bivouac was being made for the night, the captain noticed that Pat was looking very much fatigued.  Thinking that a small drop of whisky might do him good, the captain called Pat aside and said, “Pat, will you have a wee drink of whisky?” Pat made no answer, but folded his arms in a reverential manner and gazed upward.  The captain repeated the question several times, but no answer from Pat, who stood silent and motionless, gazing devoutly into the sky.  Finally the captain, taking him by the shoulder and giving him a vigorous shake said:  “Pat, why don’t you answer?  I said, ‘Pat, will you have a drink of whisky?’” After looking around in considerable astonishment Pat replied:  “And is it yez, captain?  Begorrah and I thought it was an angel spakin’ to me.”

See also Drinking.

WHISKY BREATH

See Breath.

WIDOWS

During the course of conversation between two ladies in a hotel parlor one said to the other:  “Are you married?” “No, I am not,” replied the other.  “Are you?”

“No,” was the reply, “I, too, am on the single list,” adding:  “Strange that two such estimable women as ourselves should have been overlooked in the great matrimonial market!  Now that lady,” pointing to another who was passing, “has been widowed four times, two of her husbands having been cremated.  The woman,” she continued, “is plain and uninteresting, and yet she has them to burn.”

WIND

VISITOR—­“What became of that other windmill that was here last year?”

NATIVE—­“There was only enough wind for one, so we took it down.”

  Whichever way the wind doth blow
  Some heart is glad to have it so;
  Then blow it east, or blow it west,
  The wind that blows, that wind is best.

  —­Caroline A. Mason.

WINDFALLS

A Nebraska man was carried forty miles by a cyclone and dropped in a widow’s front yard.  He married the widow and returned home worth about $30,000 more than when he started.

WINE

  When our thirsty souls we steep,
  Every sorrow’s lull’d to sleep. 
  Talk of monarchs! we are then
  Richest, happiest, first of men.

  When I drink, my heart refines
  And rises as the cup declines;
  Rises in the genial flow,
  That none but social spirits know.