The city of Nashville boasts of a smiling-contest, as an adjunct to a Presbyterian church fair. There were three competitors, young men, and a judge to decide which of them smiled most sweetly. Three trials were had, the contestants standing on a platform in full view of the assembly, with a strong light thrown on their faces. Louis Tillichet was declared the winner of the prize, which was the privilege of kissing any one of the girls attending the candy-counter, where the prettiest daughters of the church were engaged. * * * * * A lady asked her little boy, “Have you called your grandma to tea?” “Yes. When I went to call her she was asleep, and I didn’t wish to halloo at grandma, nor shake her; so I kissed her cheek, and that woke her very softly. Then I ran into the hall, and said, pretty loud, ‘Grandma, tea is ready.’ And she never knew what woke her up.” A BUDGET OF FACETIÆ. A Columbia clergyman, who, while preaching a sermon on Sunday evening, perceived a man and woman under the gallery in the act of kissing each other behind a hymn-book, did not lose his temper. No! he remained calm. He beamed mildly at the offenders over his spectacles, and when the young man kissed her the fifteenth time, he merely broke his sermon short off in the middle of “thirdly,” and offered a fervent prayer in behalf of “the young man in the pink neck-tie and the maiden in the blue bonnet and gray shawl, who were profaning the sanctuary by kissing one another in pew seventy-eight.” And the congregation said “Amen.” Then the woman pulled her veil down, and the young man sat there and swore softly to himself. He does not go to church as much now as he did. * * * * * At Boulogne, during the reception of Queen Victoria, some years ago, a number of English ladies, in their anxiety to see everything, pressed with such force against the soldiers who were keeping the line that the latter were forced to give way, and generally were—to use the expression of policemen—“hindered in the execution of their duty.” The officer in command, observing the state of affairs, called out, “One roll of the drum,—if they don’t keep back, kiss them all.” After the first sound of the drum the ladies took to flight. “If they had been French,” said a Parisian journal, “they would have remained to a woman.” * * * * * The portrait-painter, Gilbert Stuart, once met a lady in Boston, who said to him, “I have just seen your likeness, and kissed it because it was so much like you.” “And did it kiss you in return?” said he. “No,” replied the lady. “Then,” returned the gallant painter, “it was not like me.” * * * * *