often catch their opponents napping, and rarely get caught themselves. Everybody likes them "in the field ;" and they often make "home runs." They fail at the "bat," but get a good many bats. As" tallyists," they make their "innings;" but they are not good " umpires," being apt to raise a row. Mosquitoes, like dogs, have their days. In dog days, dogs are expected to go mad. Mosquito days begin with dog days, and end with the first frost. Then they die happy; they gather in large bands under the trees, and there, flying up and down, they sing Man exults in their death; the mosquitoes exult; all is exultant; and soon after the Governor appoints Thanksgiving. their death song. OUR MINISTER'S SERMON. Our minister said last night, says he, If your life ain't worth nothin' to other folks, And that's what I say to my wife, says I, I tell you our minister is prime, he is; When I heard him a givin' it right and left Of course there couldn't be no mistake And the minister he went on to say, I don't think much of the man that gives I guess that dose was bitter enough Give us some more of this open talk, The minister hit 'em every time, And when he spoke of fashion, And riggin's out in bows and things, And coming to church to see the styles, I could't help a-winkin' And a-nudgin' my wife, and says I, "That's you," And I guess it sot her thinkin'. Says I to myself, that sermon's pat; But man is a queer creation, ● And I'm much afraid that most of the folks Won't take the application. Now, if he had said a word about My personal mode of sinnin', Just then the minister says, says he, Go home," says he, "and find your faults, Go home," says he, "and wear the coats My wife she nudged, and Brown he winked, And lots o' looking at our pew, Is gettin' a little bitter; I'll tell him, when the meetin's out, that I LEGAL WHISKERS. As o'er their wine and walnuts sat, THE BEAUTIFUL BALLAD OF WASKA WEE. Her voice was sweet as a ban-do-lin, Her mouth was small as the head of a pin; Oh, she was the belle of Yeddo town. Now, lovely Waska Singty Wee, This Turkish man a turban had, 66 'Oh, fly with me to my own Turkee! Now simple Waska Singty Wee, To be eighteenth wife to the Turkish man. But though her heart was full of glee She hung her head and said to he: Then this horrid, sly, old Turkish man "And so," said he, "my bright winged bird, Thou'lt have for thy fortune the widow's third." Then flew the maid to the Mi-ca-do, And told the plan of her Turkish beau. "And now," said she, "the whole thou'st heard, How much will it be, this widow's third ?" Now the Mi-ca-do was wondrous wise, Then flew the maid to the court of Lords, Where every man wore a brace of swords, And bade them name what sum would be hers When the Turk should go to his forefathers. They sat in council from dawn till night, And the end of it all, as you well might know, Said, "Go back alone to your old Turkee !" SPRING SURPRISES. The parson paused by the Strawberry bed, The berries were forming full, ripe and red, Yet gravely he looked down. The parson strode by the garden path, Beneath the apple trees, From each rosy blossom a honey bath The parson reclined in his study chair, And softly the air stirred his silvery hair, But he suddenly cast his pen aside, And pacing to and fro, |