“I say, there, what are you doing up there? Why ain't you with your regiment ?"

"I'm gettin' 'simmons, I am," replied the soldier. "Persimmons!-thunder! They are not ripe yet. They are not fit to eat."

"Yes; but, general," persisted the Confed., "I am trying to draw my stomach up to suit the size of my rations. If it stays as it is now, I shall starve."

The general had nothing more to say, but rode on.

To be equal with the occasion is with some persons a natural gift. We may mention an incident in connection with the famous French Marshal, Bassompierre. During his incarceration in the Bastile, he was observed by a friend one morning to be diligently turning over the leaves of a Bible, whereupon the friend inquired what particular passage he was looking for.

"One that I cannot find," was the reply: "a way to get out of this prison."

On his coming out of prison, Louis XIII. asked him his age. Fifty was all that the gallant soldier would own to. To the surprised look of the king, Bassompierre answered: "Sire, I subtract ten years passed in the Bastile, because I did not employ them in your Majesty's service."

Some years, however, before this, when serving in the capacity of ambassador to Spain, he was telling the Court how he first entered Madrid.

Among other famous dialect problems is the following dilemma, which is framed with wonderful ingenuity, the acuteness displayed in its construction being probably unsurpassed. It is called Syllogismus Crocodilus, and may thus be stated:

An infant, while playing on the bank of a river, was seized by a crocodile. The mother, hearing its cries, rushed to its assistance, and by her tearful entreaties obtained a promise from the crocodile (who was obviously of the highest intelligence) that he would give it back to her if she would tell him truly what would happen to it. On this, the mother (perhaps rashly) asserted:

"You will not give it back." The crocodile answers to this:

"If you have spoken truly, I cannot give back the child without destroying the truth of your assertion; if you have spoken falsely, I cannot give back the child, because you have not fulfilled the agreement; therefore I cannot give it back whether you have spoken truly or falsely."

The mother retorted:

"If I have spoken truly, you must give back the child, by virtue of your agreement; If I have spoken falsely, that can only be when you have given back the child; so that,

"Ah!" interrupted the joke-loving king; "it must indeed have been an amusing sight to have seen the biggest ass in the place mounted on so small a quadruped." With a profound obeisance came the quiet rejoinder : "I was your Majesty's representative."

We need not mention the particular county in which the following occurred; it is, however, very suggestive of the lively manner in which matters of a parochial kind are occasionally discussed in some districts.

"What a fearful thunder-storm we had last night," said a gentleman on meeting with the overseer of the parish; "the oldest inhabitant can scarcely remember a worse one."

"So I have been informed," was the reply; "but the fact is, we had a meeting of the town council at the time, and none of us heard a single peal of it."

An inquisitive youth, too young to fully comprehend the doctrine of total depravity, but old enough to have at least a vague idea of the hereditary principle of mankind, was recently detected by his paternal ancestor in falsehood, and punished therefor by solitary confinement. The punisement over, the youngster accosted his father with the question:

"Pa, did you tell lies when you were little?" The father, perhaps conscious-smitten, evaded an answer, but the child, persisting, again asked:

"Did you tell lies when you were little ?"

"No," said the father; "but why do you ask?" "Did ma tell lies when she was little ?"

given back."

History is silent as to the issue of this remarkable dis

pute.

Few men are without ambition to become wealthy. The one great object of human existence seems to be the acquisition of riches; therefore the secret of attaining these desires will be welcomed by many.

A German gentleman, named Reuben Hoffenstein, has come about as near to the right method as any one we know.

"Herman," said Hoffenstein, as he glanced over a book in which he kept small accounts, “has dot shoemaker vot keeps de corner around baid vat he owes de sdore yet?"

"No, Misder Hoffenstein," replied the clerk, "but I dhink he vill. He vas a goot man if he vas poor."

"Dot may be so, Herman, but you had better vatch him. Don't let him haf noding more on gredit. You must always dink a man vas a rasgal until he bays vat he owes; if you don't, you vill lose money by dinking he vas goot. My g-r-acious, Herman, I have seen plenty uf poor men who vere goot. Dey vould get dings at my sdore on gredit, and spend dere cash mit some von else. Vatch de shoemaker, Herman, I haf been poor myself vonce."

"De shoemaker, Misder Hoffenstein," said the clerk, "yould haf baid before dis if he don't haf been so poor."

"But he don't got no pisness being dot vay," replied Hoffenstein. "A man vat vas poor, Herman, don't can blame no one but himself. Vy don't he get velty, like oder people? If a man vas sadisvied mit being poor, he don't be no 'count, you know. Ven I vas beddling, I vent to a velty merchant to get some goods on gredit. He don't

let me haf dem, und I dold him dat I vas honesd if I vas a poor man. Vat you dink, Herman; he says, 'My frient, de lower regions vas so full uf beople in your fix dat dere legs vas sdicking de vindows out.'

"Dot exberience, Herman, learned me dot a poor man don't haf got invluence enough in dis vorld to make de dogs bark at him, und I vent to vork. Dree years after dot I haf a dry goods sdore, und vas de bresident uf a bolitical association.

"My gr-r-acious, Herman, nefer vant to be a poor man! De only ding vot a poor man can get vas religion, und he vouldn't get dot if it cost anyding. Recgollect dot berseverence in business vill make you velty, und dot if you vail in de righd vay dere vas money in it. Ven I vas keeping a redail sdore in de gountry, bisness got dull, und I vent to Simon Krausman, my vife's uncle, und I says, 'Simon, dink I vill vail, dere vas no money in de bisness any longer.' 'Reuben,' he says, 'de boys vas paying as high as dwendy cents, dis year, und I dink you better vait.' I dook his advice, Herman, und nexd, ven dey vas only baying den cents, I vailed, und made ober four dousand dollars. Shust dink uf it!

Now dere vas Solomon Oppenheimer, who put a little sdore up avay out in Arkansas, und de gountry for fifdeen miles around vas so poor dot all de fleas vent avay. Vell, he put his sdore dere, und for seex years he vailed in pisness, und now Solomon owns a gouple uf brick sdores in Houston, Texas. He made all uf dot by his berseverance. Dink uf it, Herman, und vile you dink uf it, don't let de shoemaker ve vas dalking about get avay midout baying vat he owes."

“S’posen you call him arter me? My fust name is Jefferson, and they Jeff me for short. I've got two ten-dollar gold pieces here for him if you want to call him Jefferson." "I'll do it!" promptly responded the woman. "That's business. Here's the cash and the boy is named Jefferson, arter me. Lemme kiss him about four times."

The baby was duly kissed and congratulated, and at the next station he left the train with his mother. The old man was tickled half to death over the matter, until the conductor came along and asked:

"Did you pay her anything to name that baby after you?" "Yes-twenty dollars. He's a clipper, and don't you

domestic incident would indicate.

A few weeks after a late marriage the husband had some peculiar thoughts when putting on his last clean shirt, as he saw no appearance of a "washing."

He thereupon rose earlier than usual one morning, and kindled a fire. When putting on the kettle, he made a noise on purpose to arouse his easy wife. She immediately peeped over the blankets, and then exclaimed:

"My dear, what are you doing?"

He deliberately responded:

"I've put on my last clean shirt, and I'm going to wash one now for myself."

"Very well," replied Mrs. Easy, "you had better wash one for me too."

An artful negro named Sam Johnson was arraigned before the judicial authorities on a charge of burglary.

"If you wanted merely to examine the house with a view of purchasing it, why did you not ring the bell instead of climbing in through the back window ?" said the judge. "I lacks de confidence in you, jedge! Dat's why I can't intrust you wid any of my bizness plans!" said Sam.

A story worth repeating comes from the Detroit Free Press: On the Bay City train the other day was a woman with a baby about eight months old, and in the next seat back was an old man who couldn't sit still until he had said: "That's a baby you have there, isn't it?"

The Collecting Mania.-It is astonishing to see how the collecting mania has pervaded all classes of society, even to the juveniles. On the recent day of prayer for the President's recovery, at the hour appointed for service in the churches, the pupils of a certain public school in a Western city were requested to study for a few moments a prayer which their teacher wrote upon the blackboard, and then at a given signal to rise and repeat it in concert. Upon the conclusion of this ceremonial, and while all was solemnity, a boy piped out:

ros, while his old hat always had the same old mashed and battered look. He never washed his face, nor combed his hair, nor buttoned his shirt-collar, and when about "halfseas over," provided with the stump of a cigar, he was never known to have a whole one,-smoking in peace on a rock-pile, he seemed supremely happy. With all these irregularities and eccentricities, "King Solomon" was as honest, upright, and industrious and, withal, had as big a heart in his breast as any man in Lexington or Fayette County, and in the dark, gloomy, and fearful days of 1833,

Certainly," said his teacher, "but why do you want to copy it ?"

Because," said the boy, "it is the first time I ever prayed for a President, and I want to keep it."

many a grave after more boastful and better-dressed men had fled from the city.

Another Odd Prayer.-The amusing prayers in the last number of the MONTHLY reminded me of one I heard at a funeral last summer.

A minister who was not even the pastor of the deceased, only an acquaintance, had been invited, for some reason, to take part in the services. After praying for some time with great unction, and with an air of such deep distress as would certainly have led a stranger to suppose that he was himself one of the afflicted family, he finally reached the climax in this remarkable petition :

"O Lord, wipe the tears from our eyes with thy tender 'kerchief!"

A lady who was present rather irreverently remarked afterward, "that science had developed a great many things, but she never knew before that the Lord carried a pocket-handkerchief!" H. G. F.

King Solomon."-One of the eccentric characters connected with the early history of Lexington, Kentucky, was William Solomon, known familiarly as " King Solomon." He was born in Virginia, in 1775, and at what period he came to Lexington no one ever knew, as all who knew him there at all remembered him as one of the old familiar landmarks of the place. One of the kindliest souls that ever lived, and quaint as he was kind, he seemed a part of the very town itself. He always boasted that he and “Henry," as he familiarly termed Henry Clay, had been boys together. He admitted, however, that "Henry" had risen somewhat higher in the world's regard than he had himself-he being a cellar-digger. He was one of the most incorruptible and Jackson-defying Whigs that ever lived, and clung to "Henry" through all his trials. One of the most independent voters in Fayette County, he was once approached by a candidate who gave him some money to go and vote. "King Solomon" pocketed the money and did go and vote, but against his benefactor. As we said, no one knew when he came to Lexington he seemed to always have been here. Neither did any one ever see him in a new suit of clothes. His "rig," as he called his clothes, seemed always to have been old, and fitted him about as loosely as the hide on a rhinoce

limb, commenced sawing upon it between where he sat and the tree. Falling into a meditative mood, he sawed away until the limb snapped off, hurling him suddenly, and somewhat short of breath, on the hard ground. The rare wisdom he displayed in sawing off the limb between himself and the tree obtained for him, without a dissenting voice, the title of "King Solomon," the wisest of earthly monarchs. While the good-natured old soul was in the zenith of his glory, an admirable portrait of him was painted by a first-class artist, Colonel Price, and copies of it now adorn many elegant homes in Lexington. He was induced to sit for it by being supplied with plenty of his daily beverage and the stump of a cigar to make himself pleasant on his favorite seat—a rockpile. When the kind-hearted old fellow died (November 27, 1854), he was tenderly laid away to rest in Lexington's beautiful cemetery, and followed thence by a large number of sympathizing friends.

LA PARIERE.

"Well, Brown," said the second, "we have had some trouble to arrange about distance; but at length it is settled for twenty paces; both fire together, and the meeting is for to-morrow morning at nine o'clock."

Pretty short notice."

"Have you any other objection?"

"I should just as soon have it at fifteen, or even ten paces." "Well, I wanted to put you up at fifteen, but Allison's second would not agree to it, so I yielded the point.”

"Ah! you yielded that point. I am fully determined, however, that they shall not have another point yielded." "No one asks it."

"I am the offended party." "Undoubtedly."

"And therefore have the choice of weapons. Well, I choose small swords."

"Small swords! Why, did you not just now consent to fight at twenty paces?"

"Yes; I am not the man to retire from an agreement which a friend has made in my name. I repeat that fifteen or even ten paces would have suited me just as well. But you have said twenty, and let it be twenty."

As Brown persisted in "maintaining his rights," the duel, of course, never took place.