When a man tells you
after this that the planet of Saturn is not inhabited, tell him that
you know better, that it is not only inhabited, but that the married
couples up there have family fights the same as on this mundane
sphere. In about ten minutes I will be ready again to explain the
wonders and beauties of the sparkling heavens to such of you as
prefer a million dollars' worth of scientific knowledge to ten cents
in vile dross. Meanwhile permit me to call your attention to my
celebrated toothache drops, the only perfect remedy yet invented for
aching teeth."
BROTHER WATKINS.
BY JOHN B. GOUGH.
An old southern preacher, who had a great habit of talking through
his nose, left one congregation and came to another. The first Sunday
he addressed his new congregation he went on about as follows:--
My beloved brederin, before I take my text, I must tell you of
parting with my old congregation-ah, on the morning of last
Sabbath-ah I entered into my church to preach my farewell
discourse-ah. Before me sat the old fadders and mothers of Israel-ah.
The tears course down their furrowed cheeks, their tottering forms
and quivering lips breathed out a sad fare-ye-well Brother
Watkins-ah.
Behind them sat middle-aged men and matrons, youth and vigour bloomed
from every countenance, and as they looked up, I thought I could see
in their dreamy eyes fare-ye-well Brother Watkins-ah.
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