An anxious Scotch mother was taking leave of her son on his departure for England, and giving him all good advice. “My dear Sauny, my ainly son, gang south and get all the siller from the southerns, take every thing you can, but the English are a braw boxing people, and take care of them Sauny. My dear son Sauny, never fight a bald man, for you cannot catch hold of him by the hair of his head.” AMERICAN WIT. “Master, if that house cost five hundred dollars, and a barrel of nails five dollars, what would a good sizeable pig _come to_? Do you give it up? Well, he’d _come to_ a bushel of corn.” A BRIGHT IDEA. “What is light?” asked a school-master of the booby of the class. “A sovereign that isn’t full weight is _light_.” FINIS. Daniel O’Rourke’s WONDERFUL VOYAGE TO THE MOON. ALSO, Master and Man; OR, The Adventures of Billy Mac Daniel. [Illustration] GLASGOW: PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS. DANIEL O’ROURKE’S Wonderful Voyage to the Moon. People may have heard of the renowned adventures of Daniel O’Rourke but how few are there who know that the cause of all his perils, above and below, was neither more nor less than his having slept under the walls of the Phooka’s tower. I knew the man well; he lived at the bottom of Hungry Hill, just at the right hand side of the road as you go towards Bantry. An old man was he at the time that he told me the story, with gray hair, and a red nose; and it was on the 25th of June, 1813, that I heard it from his own lips, as he sat smoking his pipe under the old poplar tree, on as fine an evening as ever shone from the sky. I was going to visit the caves in Dursey Island, having spent the morning at Glengariff. ‘I am often axed to tell it, sir,’ said he, ‘so that this is not the first time. The master’s son, you see, had come from beyond foreign parts in France and Spain, as young gentlemen used to go, before Buonaparte or any such was heard of; and sure enough there was a dinner given to all the people on the ground, gentle and simple, high and low, rich and poor. The ould gentlemen were the gentlemen, after all, saving your honour’s presence. They’d swear at a body a little, to be sure, and, may be, give one a cut of a whip now and then, but we were no losers by it in the end;--and they were so easy and civil, and kept such rattling houses, and thousands of welcomes, and there was no grinding for rent, and few agents; and there was hardly a tenant on the estate that did not taste of his landlord’s bounty often and often in the year;--but now it’s another thing; no matter for that, sir, for I’d better be telling you my story.