Give and Take

An English statesman on one occasion, when engaged in canvassing, visited a working-man’s house, in the principal room of which a pictorial representation of the Pope faced an illustration of King William, of pious and immortal memory, in the act of crossing the Boyne.

The worthy man stared in amazement, and seeing his surprise the voter’s wife exclaimed;

“Shure, my husband’s an Orangeman and I’m a Catholic.”

“How do you get on together?” asked the astonished politician.

“Very well, indade, barring the twelfth of July, when my husband goes out with the Orange procession and comes home feelin’ extry pathriotic.”

“What then?”

“Well, he always takes the Pope down and jumps on him and then goes straight to bed.  The next morning I get up early, before he is awake, and take down King William and pawn him and buy a new Pope with the money.  Then I give the old man the ticket to get King William out.”

Too Much of a Good Thing

“I’ve got the very thing you want,” said the stableman to a ruralist in search of a horse; “a thorough-going road horse.  Five years old, sound as a quail, $175 cash down, and he goes ten miles without stopping.”

The purchaser threw his hands skyward.

“Not for me,” he said, “not for me.  I wouldn’t gif you five cents for him.  I live eight miles out in de country, und I’d haf to walk back two miles.”

Had Missed It

“What are you crying for, my poor little boy?” said a man to a crying boy.

“Pa fell downstairs.”

“Don’t take on so, my boy.  He’ll get better soon.”

“That isn’t it.  Sister saw him fall—­all the way.  I never saw nuffen.”

Denied the Only Shade

It was a broiling hot day in the park, and those walking therein were well-nigh exhausted, when a very stout old lady came bustling along one of the paths, closely followed by a rough-looking tramp.

Twice she commanded him to leave her, but Still he followed just behind.

At last the old lady, quite disgusted, turned angrily around and said: 

“Look here, my man, if you don’t go away I shall call a policeman.”

The poor fellow looked up at her with a tear in his eye, and then remarked: 

“For goodness’ sake, mum, have mercy and don’t call a policeman, for ye’re the on’y shady spot in the park.”

Wanted to Make Her Happy

In one of the many hospitals in the South a bright, busy-looking and duty-loving woman hustled up to one of the wounded soldiers who lay gazing at the ceiling above his cot.  “Can’t I do something for you, my poor fellow?” said the woman imploringly.  The “poor fellow” looked up languidly.  The only things he really wanted just at that time were his discharge and a box of cigars.  When he saw the strained and anxious look on the good woman’s face, however, he felt sorry for her, and with perfect sang froid he replied:  “Why, yes; you can wash my face if you want to.”