She was all sorts of a gal--there warn't a sprinklin' too much of her; she had an eye that would make a fellow's heart try to get out of his bosom; her step was as light as a panther's, and her breath sweet as a prairie flower. CUTTING.--536. General Lee one day found Dr. Cutting, the army surgeon, who was a handsome and dressy man, arranging his cravat complacently before a glass. "Cutting," said Lee, "you must be the happiest man in creation." "Why, General?" "Because," replied Lee, "you are in love with _yourself_, and you have not a _rival_ upon earth." THE DARKIE'S WISH.--537. I wish de legislatur would set dis darkie free, Oh! what a happy place den de darkie land would be We'd have a darkie parliament, An' darkie codes of law, An' darkie judges on de bench, Darkie barristers and aw. POOR PREACHING AND POOR PAY.--538. "John, what do you do for a living?"--"Oh, me preach."--"Preach, and do you get paid for it?"--"Sometimes me get a shilling, sometimes two shillings."--"And isn't that mighty poor pay?"--"Oh, yes, but it's mighty poor preaching." A TRUMP CARD.--539. There was a very large family of Cards wunst at Slickville. They were mostly in the stage-coach and livery-stable line, and careless, reckless sort of people. So one day Squire Zenas Card had a christenin' at his house. Says the minister, "What shall I call the child?"--"Pontius Pilate," said he.--"I can't," said the minister, "and I won't. No soul ever heard of such a name for a Christian since baptism came in fashion."--"I am sorry for that," said the squire, "for it's a mighty pretty name. I heard it once in church, and I thought if ever I had a son I'd call him after him; but if I can't have that--and it's a dreadful pity--call him Trump;" and he was christened "Trump Card."--_Sam Slick._ TIMELY WARNING.--540. A Yankee editor thus confesses to have had dealings with Satan, for the good of his readers, of course:--I was sitting in my study, when I heard a knock at the door. "Come in," said I; when the door opened, and who should walk in but--Satan! "How d'ye do?" said he.--"Pretty well," said I.--"What are you about? preparing your leader?"--"Yes," said I.--"Ah! I dare say you think you are doing a great deal of good?"--"Well," said I, "not so much as I could wish; but a little good, I hope."--"You have a large lot of readers," said he.--"Well, pretty well for that," said I.--"And I dare say you are very proud of them," said Satan.--"No," said I, "that I am not, for not one-third of them pay for their papers!"--"You don't say so!" said he.--"Yes, that I do," said I; "not one-third of them pay for their papers!"--"Well," said he, "then they are an immoral lot; but let me have the list, I think I can do a trifle myself with such people." HABITUAL THIRST.--541.