The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1876-09-16 00:00:00

AMERICAN RUMOUR.

A Vermont girl is dying from poison received by
wearing striped stockings; yet the percentage of deaths
from that cause Is very smaEi considering the number of
stockings.

"I won't be long after her," was the mournful
remark of a grief-stricken gentleman who buried his wife six
months ago. And he was "after her" in less than three
months—but the "her" was fall of life and Joyousness, and
wore the latest style.

Josh Billings says :—I write like a lover, for
IV)tusseau says—..Ta write a good love letter you ought to
begin without knowing what you mean to say, and to finish
without knowing what you have written."

Some profane cynic, having no fear of Cupid before
his eyes, perpetrates the following :
" Love is a nightmare with one foot,
Two children with one ban,
Two turnips with a single root,
Two foolish heads as one."
Young and sentimental Henry Burn, of Nevada,
killed himself, leaving a letter, in which he said, "My
Annie is dead, and I must be with her, lest some angel
rival should win her affection."

A resident of the Seventh Ward in New Jersey, who
attempted a few days ago to wrestle, Devonshire style, with
a New Jersey mosquito, was recognised by his clothes after
the encounter, and the remains reached the town yesterday.
He was a kind husband and indulgent father, but he did not
know anything about New Jersey mosquitoes.
A LARGE Momra.—She led him to a sofa and in a
deep bass voice called him her soul's idol, and inquired what
his monthly income was. Seeing his gaze fixed on her boa-
constrictor-like mouth, she remarked, "Darling, I see you
notice my large and beautiful mouth; let me explain to you
the reason of its unusual size. When I was quite a child I '
was playing on pappy's cellar door; it gave Way; I was pre-
cipitated down into the basement and caught by the mouth
on a prcjeciting hook, which ripped up my face and extended
my mouth several inches." With his eyes full of sympathetic '
tears, he rose from the sofa, and replied as he made towards
the door: "My angel, you are perhaps mistaken. Probably
in the excitement of that awful moment yon left your
mouth down in the basement and accidentally brought
no the cellar door. We shall meat again In a better world.
Adieu."
S63IETIIING LIKE A DROK I—A good story is told
of the venerable Judge H. The other day, while holding the
Circuit Court, he grew weary of the endless tongues of the
attorneys, and, calling to a bailiff, said huskily, "Go over to
the 'Hole in the Wall,' and bring me a drink of whisky."
The bailiff disappeared, and reappeared shortly with an inch
and k half of corn juice in a glass, enough for any Christian
man, but not sufficiency for an Alabama judiciary system.
"Go back," growled the judge, "and tell Hagerty to send me
a drink—a drink of whisky.' The The bailiff disappeared again,
and reappeared a second time with a tumbler brimming full
'Ah," said the wearer of the ermine, "that, now, is a drink 1
But what," wiping his lips with the cuff of his coat, "did he
say ?" "Oh, he didn't say anything, your honour I' answered
the bailiff, blushing. "Oh, yes, he must have made some
remark when I sent a second time. Now what did he say 1'
"Well, I don't like te tell you, your honour." "Go on and
tell me exactly what he said," demanded the judge. "Well,
your honour," drawled out the bailiff, "he said, I sent him
a drink of whisky at first; I didn't know that the old fool
wanted to take a bath

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