"Rest and refreshments," replied the printer.

"Super and lotchin, I reckon?"

"Yes, supper and lodging, if you please."

"Pe ye a Yankee peddler, mit chewelry in your pack, to sheat the gals?"

"No, sir, I am no Yankee peddler."

"A singin'-master, too lazy to work?"

"No, sir."

"A shenteel shoemaker, vat loves to measure te gals' feet and hankles petter tan to make te shoes?"

"No, sir, or I should have mended my own shoes."

"A pook achent, vat podders te school committees till they do vat you vish, shoost to get rid of you?"

"Guess again, sir. I am no book agent."

"Te tyfels! a dentist, preaking te people's jaws at a dollar a shnag, and running off mit my daughter?"

"No sir, I am no tooth-puller."

"Prenologus, ten, feeling te young folks, heads like so much cabb.i.t.c.h?"

"No, I am no phrenologist."

"Vell, ten, vat the mischief can you be? Shoost tell, and ye shall have te pest sa.s.sage for supper, and shtay all night, free gratis, mitout a cent, and a shill of whiskey to start mit in te morning."

"I am an humble disciple of Faust--a professor of the art that preserves all arts--a typographer at your service."

"Votch dat?"

"A printer, sir: a man that prints books and newspapers."

"A man vat printish nooshpapers! oh yaw! yaw! ay, dat ish it. A man vat printish nooshpapers! Yaw! yaw! Valk up! a man vat printish nooshpapers!

I vish I may pe shot if I didn't d.i.n.k you vas a poor old dishtrict schoolmaster, who verks for notting and poards around--I tought you vas him!"

TRUTH STRANGER THAN FICTION.

A NEW ORLEANS lady recently eloped, leaving a note, bidding her idolizing husband good bye, and requesting him not to mourn for the children, as "none of them were his."

TELLING ONE'S AGE.

A LADY, complaining how rapidly time stole away, said, "Alas! I am near thirty." Scarron, who was present, and knew her age, said, "Do not fret at it, madam; for you will get further from that frightful epoch every day."

ALL FLESH IS DUST.

"MAMMA," said a promising youth of some four or five years, "if all people are made of dust, ain't n.i.g.g.e.rs made of coal-dust?"

TALLEYRAND.

AT a time when public affairs were in a very unsettled state, a gentleman, who squinted terribly, asked Talleyrand how things were going on. "Why, as you see, Sir," was the reply.

KITCHINER AND COLMAN.

THE most celebrated wits and _bon vivans_ of the day graced the dinner-table of the late Dr. Kitchiner, and, _inter alios_, the late George Colman, who was an especial favourite; his interpolation of a little monosyllable in a written admonition which the doctor caused to be placed on the mantel-piece of the dining-parlour will never be forgotten, and was the origin of such a drinking bout as was seldom permitted under his roof. The caution ran thus: "Come at seven, go at eleven." Colman briefly altered the sense of it; for, upon the Doctor's attention being directed to the card, he read, to his astonishment, "Come at seven, go it at eleven!" which the guests did, and the claret was punished accordingly.

CREDIT.

AMONG the witty aphorisms upon this unsafe topic, are Lord Alvanley's description of a man who "muddled away his fortune in paying his tradesmen's bills;" Lord Orford's definition of timber, "an excrescence on the face of the earth, placed there by Providence for the payment of debts;" and Pelham's argument, that it is respectable to be arrested, because it shows that the party once had credit.

SWIFT.

IN the reign of King William, it happened that the king had either chosen or actually taken this motto for his stage coach in Ireland: "Non rapui, sed recepi,"--"I did not steal it, but received it," alluding to his being called to the throne by the people. This was reported to Swift by one of the court emissaries. "And what," said he to the Dean, "do you think the Prince of Orange has chosen for his motto?" "Dutch cheese,"

said the Dean. "No," said the gentleman, "but 'non rapui, sed recepi.'"

"Aye," said the Dean, "but it is an old saying and a true one, '_The receiver is as bad as the thief._'"