The Family Herald: A Domestic Magazine of Useful Information and …, Volume 31 (Google Books)

Sydney Smith, in a letter to Mr. Howard of Corby, once observed:—“The only acquaintance I have made at Taunton is that of the clerk of the parish, a very sensible man, with great Amen-ity of disposition.” There is a difficulty in finding a jury when an Indian comes before, an Omaha court. One of a panel, being asked if he had any prejudice, replied, “No ; only I’ve been chased by ’em, been in several battles with ’em, and would hang every every man-jack of ’em at sight if I could.” “Get out of my way—what are you good forf” said a cross old man to a little bright-eyed urchin who o: to stand in his way. The little fellow, as he stepped on one side, replied, very gently, “They make men out of such things as we are.” The bridesmaids at a recent wedding in Georgia are thus described by a local paper: “It is no idle compliment to say they are like three Graces, their faces mirroring back the purity and softness of the skies, their eyes floating in a light of dewy tenderness, or throwing radiant flashes from the inner shrines of thought like jewel-tinted sparkles caught from broken rainbows.” A School Board authority, while lately examining some young children, asked them the following questions: – “Are there any mountains in Palestine f” “Yes,” replied the children. “How are they situated?” inquired the examiner. “Some are in clusters, and there are some isolated ones,” they answered. “What do you mean by the word ‘isolated’ F’’ asked the examiner. “Why, covered with ice, of course!” was the quick reply. “A charwoman whom I employ,” writes a correspondent, “has a nice little boy, seven years old, of whom she is very proud, and whom she always dresses most carefully, and in the latest fashion. All the poor woman’s earnings are spent upon clothes for her child. As I was blaming her the other day and o: that she ought to think of herself more, ‘Oh, sir, she replied, ‘don’t Flame me! Just think of it—I took little Tommy into the Park on Sunday for a walk, and people took me for his nurse!’” London changes colour on the day of the Oxford and Cambridge boat-race. It is in the blues, light and dark. Everybody wears blue; even babies are borne about in robes of the colours of the fancy crew of the “mamma” and “papa.” On the morning of the last boat-race a fat poodle waddled up Belgravia with a gorgeous and massive dark blue tie round his neck. The spinster lady who proudly led it was much shocked when she was accosted by a butcher-boy, a partisan of the other colour, with “I’d soon make Cambridge of him if I had him 1″ She knew instinctively that he alluded to sausages.

In the year 1848 an actress at the Théâtre des Variétés, Paris–Mademoiselle Boisgontier—was extraordinarily fond of birds. She had set her heart above all others upon a magnificent canary belonging to the box-keeper, which sa almost without ceasing from morning, till night. Her affection for the bir became a perfect passion, and every o she implored the owner to sell it to her; but, although she offered a v andsome sum, her efforts were all in vain. . At length one day, thanks to the political excitement into which the 1st of February threw the whole population, the actress managed to make away with the splendid bird, replacing it with another that she had just bought. Some days afterwards, however, her conscience smote her, and she returned to the theatre. “Sell me your canary,” said she to the box-keeper, hoping to ease her conscience. “Oh, less than ever !” was the indignant reply; of the oor little creature has not sung a single note since Louis-Philippe’s departure.” }: was a hen bird that Boisgontier had bought !

Counsellor Higgins, of the State of —, U.S., who died many years ago, was exceedingly adroit in defending a prisoner, and would sometimes laugh down an indictment for a small offence. A fellow (one so being on trial for stealing a turkey, the counsellor attempted to give a good, humane turn to the affair, “Why, gentlemen of the jury,” said he, “this is really a very small affair; I wonder any one could bring such a complaint into court; if we are going on at this rate, we shall have business enough on our hands. Why, I recollect when I was at college that nothing was more common than to go foraging. We used to have a good supper in this way. We did not get the ło too often in the same place, and there was no harm done, no fault ound.” No.; this appeal, the jury convicted the prisoner. After the Court had risen, one of the jury, a plain …}farmer, meeting the counsellor, complimented him on his ingenuity. “And now, squire,” said he, fixing a rather knowing look upon him, “I should like to ask you one question: which road do you take in going home, the upper or the lower P” “The lower,” said the counsellor. “Well, then, it’s no matter. I only wanted to observe i. you were going my way I would just jog on before you and lock up my en-house,”

AN ANIMATED SEAT.-A bench of magistrates. QUERY.—Can a girl, when she is a belle, be said to have a ringing laugh. AN INCIDENTAL INQUIRY.—Would artificial teeth enable a person to sing false-sett-o: * HoME AFFECTIONs.—Talk about the modern falling off of home affections! Our wives are becoming dearer every day.

Historical, CoN.—If a doctor were to tell the Siamese twins they could be safely separated, and they consented, what Roman emperor would they name *—Severus.

KEEPING TIME.-A San Francisco paper tells of a gentleman who gave his Chinese servant five hours’ leave of absence the other day, and was somewhat amused by seeing him walk out of the gate with a twelve-pound clock under his arm, which he took with him to keep the “run” of the time and be back in season.

THE OLD LADY’s Advice.—“Girls,” said a worthy old American lady to her grand-daughters, “whenever a fellow pops the question, don’t blush and stare at your foot. Just throw your arms around his neck, look him full in the face, and commence talking about the furniture. Young fellows are mighty nervous sometimes. I lost several good chances before I caught your fond, dear grandfather, by putting on airs, but I learnt how to do it after a while.”

WHERE *—Where is the railway passenger who, when he leaves the train, is so uncommonly polite as to shut the door after him f . Where is the public orator who can ever keep his promise to say a “few words only” P Where is the builder who never lets his bill exceed his given estimate? Where is the organ fiend who will move from your door without your fetching, a policeman? Where is the barber, who can manage to content himself by cutting our hair simply, without making any cutting observations on its scantiness? Yo… is the woman who is content not to have “the last word” P And, lastly, where is the young lady who can pack her own boxes and not leave half her “things” behind her?

“THE MATTER ExPLAINs ITSELF.” —An awkward affair which once occurred to one of the judges on the Western Circuit, has been the subject of much mirth. It appears that, having finished his labours and cast off his forensic wig at his lodgings, he had retired into the next room to wait for his brother judge, whom he was about to accompany to meet some of the local . aristocracy at dinner. The female servant of the house had entered the bedchamber by a side-door, and, not knowing that the judge was in the next room, in a frolic arrayed herself in his wig. Just at the moment when the fair Mopsy was #. herself in the folio the † *. entered the room ; and poor Mopsy, catching a sight of the stern countenance looking over her shoulder in the glass, was so alarmed that she fainted, and would have fallen to the ground if the learned judge, impelled by humanity, had not caught her in his arms. . At this critical moment his brother i. arrived, and, on opening the dressingroom door, with a view to see if he was ready, discovered his searned brother with the fainting maid in his arms. The intruder quickly attempted to withdraw; when his brother judge vociferated, “For heaven’s sake, stop and hear this matter explained ” “Never mind, my dear brother—the matter explains itself;” and he left his learned brother to bring the fainting maid to as best he could.

MARK Twan’s StoRY of Poor LITTLE STEPHEN GIRARD.—“The man lives in Philadelphia who, when young and poor, entered a bank, and says he, ‘Please, sir, don’t you want a little boy P’. And the stately personage said, ‘No, little boy; I don’t want a little boy.’ The little boy, whose heart was too full for utterance, chewing a piece of liquorice stick he had bought with a cent he had stolen from his good and pious aunt, with sobs plainly audible, and with great globules of water running down his cheeks, glided silently down the marble steps of the bank. Bending his hoble form, the bank man dodged behind a door, for he thought the little boy was going to shy a stone at him. But the boy picked up something and stuck it j poor but ragged jacket. ‘Come here, little boy’—and the little boy did “come here;’ and the ank man said, “Lo what pickest thou up f” And he answered and said, “A pin.’ And the bank man said, ‘Little boy, are you good?’ and he said he was. And the bank man said, ‘How do you vote—excuse me, do you go to Sunday school P., And he said he did. Then the bank man took down a pen made of pure gold, and flowing with pure ink, and wrote on a piece of paper, ‘St. Peter, and asked the little boy what it stood for, and he said, “Salt Peter. Then the bank man said it meant ‘Saint Peter.’ . The little boy said, ‘Qh !’. The bank man took the little boy to his bosom, and the little boy said “Oh l’ again, for he squeezed him. Then the bank man took the little boy into a partnership, and gave him half the profits and all the capital, and he married the bank man’s daughter, and all he has is all his, and all his own too.–Story of Another Little Boy: My uncle told me the above story, and I spent six weeks picking up pins in front of a bank, I expected the bank man would call me in and say, Little boy, are you good?’ and I was going to say ‘Yes;’ and when he asked me what ‘St. John’stood for, I was going to say ‘Salt John.” But I guess the bank man wasn’t anxious to have a partner, and I guess the daughter was a son, for one day says he to me, ‘Little boy, what’s that you’re picking up f” Says I, awfully meek, “Pins.’, Says he, ‘Let’s see ’em.’ And he took ’em, and I took off my cap, all ready to go in the bank and become a partner and marry his daughter. But I didn’t get an invitation. He said, “Those pins, belong to the bank, and if I catch you hanging around here any more, I’ll set the dog on you!’ Then I left, and the mean oki cuss kept the pins. Such is life as I find it.”

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