Mr. G.--No, sir, I wont; for the last Irishman I employed died upon me, and I was forced to bury him at my own charge. Irishman.--Ah! your honour, you need not fear that of me, for I can get you a certificate that I never died in the employment of any master I ever served. There was no resisting. Poor Paddy got employed at once, and remained a faithful servant until his master’s death. A LAZY HORSE.--Some time ago, a jolly farmer from D---- went to Falkirk for ‘sax furlots o’ beans,’ which he had trysted from a Carse farmer, near B----. After spending the day in dram-drinking and fun with his cronies, about the going down of the sun’ he bethought himself of stepping home. The landlord of the S---- public house, with the assistance of his stable-boy, got the beans, and what was more difficult still, the ‘gudeman himsel’’ on horseback. So off Saunders got almost galloping. Unluckily, however, at a sharp turning of the road on his route, down came our hero, beans an’ a’. The whisky (wae be till’t) had so deranged his powers of perception, that he mounted his bean-sack instead of his mare, that was standing at some distance, no doubt well pleased to see her master belabouring the bean-sack instead of her own bony protuberances. At this moment up comes one of his neighbours, who had, like himself, staid too long in Falkirk, and seeing a man riding on a sack in the middle of the road, at that time of the night, made a solemn pause. After listening a while, he began to conjecture who it was, and venturing a little nearer he exclaims,--‘Preserve us, what are you doing here?’--‘What am I doing here!’ says Saunders, ‘I’ve been fechtin’ this twa hours wi’ that stupid mare o’ mine, and deil ae fit she’ll lift yet.’ MY SHIRT. As _Bayes_, whose cup with poverty was dash’d, Lay snug in bed, while his one shirt was wash’d; The dame appeared, and holding it to view, Said, ‘If ’tis washed again, ’twill wash in two.’ ‘Indeed,’ cried _Bayes_; then wash it, pray, good cousin, And, wash it, if you can, into a _dozen_!’ A farmer who regularly attends Devizes market, some short time since, (finding the article unsaleable) gave another farmer 100 bushels of potatoes, which he was to send for, and on meeting there, the following dialogue took place:--‘How did the ’taties turn out?’ ‘Oh, main, good; I never eated better uns for the time o’ year, and they are pretty nigh gone.’ ‘Well, thee may ha’ some more on um if thee likest.’ ‘Why if I do, thee and me must ha’ a fresh agreement.’ ‘Fresh agreement! why dint I gie thee the ’taties?’ ‘Ah, but I can’t afford to ha’ ony more if thee don’t pay one of the pikes!’ The waggon had to pass two turnpike gates, the toll at one was 4d. and the other 4½d.