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1852.]
down the glorious sun, and the whole
broad expanse seemed pulsating with life
beneath its genial rays.
Never before had I gazed upon a
scene so grand and magnificent as this.
Well and truly has the ancient chronicler
described it as 1 a country plane and beau
tiful, full of pleasantness, so that he who
fared therein deemed that he journeyed in
the ways of Paradise.’ The impression
produced upon my companions, who had
in the meantime joined me, was not less
striking than on myself. We had heard
much of the great plain of Leon, but the
reality far surpassed the anticipations
which we had formed of its extent and
beauty. As we rode on, however, we
were surprised to find that, although a
great quantity of land was cleared, not
more than half of it was really under
cultivation ; a remark which we had sub
subsequently frecpient occasion to make,
for agriculture, since the independence,
owing to the unfortunate condition of the
country, has very much declined.”
INTERNATIONAL HUMOUR.
punch’s almanac, for 1852.
*#Among other novelties which reached us
from London “by the last steamer,” is Punch’s
Almanac, always decidedly the wittiest annual of
the English press. We have enjoyed its rare hu
mour, pictorial and literary, so much, that we can
not help dividing, the latter at least, with our rea
ders. We have selected a score of its briefest
jcux d’esprit, as a sample of the whole.
A Speculators Apology. You can’t
make the pot boil without hubbies.
Self-Possession and Presence of
Mind. A thief surprised in robbing a
bank; is asked what he is about, and an
swers—“Only taking notes?”
Important to Punsters. He who
makes real jokes is called a wag —but he
who makes only heavy attempts at jo
king may be termed a Wagon.
The Force of Habit. A retired po
liceman amuses himself by collaring eels.
An Ignis Fatuus. A light fora fool’s
cigar.
Scandal. If scandal didn’t already
exist in the world, woman w r ould invent
it. (Cries of “Shame !”)
Ecclesiastical Information. Can
dles were first introduced into churches
during the dark ages.
Mem. by a Maniac. A one-armed
f uan is always a kind of off-hand fellow.
Non-Intervention. A principle that
cannot be too strongly recommended in
,r dl matrimonial wars!
Rouge et Noir. Port Wine to-day
Ul 'd Black Draught to morrow.
An Unfortunate Man. There is a
SOUTHERN LITERARY GAZETTE.
man who has tried all manner of things,
and never found any thing answer but
Echo.
A Capital Riding Habit. Never to
pay a toll when you can avoid one.
Hobbes’ Philosophy. How to make
the pot boil.
Theatrical. Two eminent actors, one
of a past age, the other living make one
mountebank. How do you make that
out ? llarley-Quin.
Classical Sport. Young ladies should
be informed that the Elgin Marbles
formed no part of the Olympic games.
Morals of the Misletoe. If you
print a kiss, dont publish it.
Excess of Caution. An elderly sin
gle gentleman travelling by rails, object
ed to go in the same carriage with his
sister-in-law’s wet nurse, for fear of catch
ing cold.
The Sentiment of a Briton. An in
dependent elector, in a state of generos
ity and beer, declared that he would
stand any pot but a despot.
A Goose that Saves “the Capital,”
is a goose sent you by a friend with the
carriage paid.
GLEAMS FROM THE “LANTERN.”
**We have here brought a few gleams from
the “Lantern” to a focus, by the convex lens of
editorial research. They are “gleams” only, as
we have said, but the nature of the light may be
judged Irom its glintings.
WHO KILLED KOSSUTH ?
Who killed Kossuth?
I, says Horace in truth,
I killed Kossuth !
Who saw him die ?
Says Downing ’twas I;
I seed him die.
Who dug his grave ?
I, says Watson so brave,
I dug his grave.
Who tolled the bell ?
Dan Howard can tell,
Who tolled the bell.
Who rejoiced at the news?
Says Archbishop Hughes,
I rejoiced at the news.
Who’ll cherish his name?
Says unprejudiced Fame—
I’ll cherish his name.
[Picture of Brother Jonathan, with the Doc
tor ( Kossuth ) feeling his pulse, and Washington
in the back ground holding up a warning finger.]
Doctor the ( Enthusiast '.) “My dear
friend, your pulse is very full—-you re
ally don’t know your own constitution —
you positively must lose a little blood.”
Jonathan (the Patient.) “It’s very well,
Mister, in your opinion, but my old
Doctor thinks otherwise.”
A Mistake Rectified. We always
believed that it was but a step from the
sublime to the ridiculous, until we took
a survey of the distance between Kos
suth and Gen. Webb.
Another Letter from Mr. Clay. A
phonographer, speaking of the great Ken
tuckian, calls hear him Mr. Cla, thus ta
king another and the last, letter from
that great man.
Question in Navigation. What would
you call a large amount of sea-sickness?
A vast heaving !
Question in Music. What is a bar
est ? The intermission at Niblo’s.
Information to Vocalists. The way
to ensure an elevated style, is evidently
to pitch it high.
NATIONAL .COMPLIMENTS.
By Punch’s Discontented,Uninformed,Stupid Correspondent*
The French certainly understand the
art of paying compliments. At the time
of the French Revolution—we mean, at
least we think, for we cannot be sure, but
we imagine it was the last but one—the
word“ Royal” was altered on all the public
buildings to “National.” Thus the “Pa
lais Royal” was changed into “Palais Na
tional ;” the “Acad6mie Roy ale” into
“Opera National and so on, all through
out Paris. Tiis change, it may not be
generally known, was effected out of com
pliment to the National newspaper, by
whose influence, it will be recollected,
the Revolution was principally effected.
We wonder when an English newspaper
will have a similar compliment paid to it ?
—not until, we are afraid, there is, in
such matters, a very great Revolution in
England!
A Cold in the Head. —The weather
has been extremely severe North this
season. The editor of an eastern paper
says:
u At-chee ! —at-chu!” We have caught
the “Idfluedce!” The last was the six
teedth tibe we’ve sdeezed id five bidutes.
We’ve been tryidg to si’g the followi’g
so’g, but bade bad work edough of it:
“By Bary-Adde is like the sad,
Whed at the dawd it flidgs
Its golden shiles of light upod
Earth’s greed a’d lovely thi’gs.
Id vain I sue ; I odly wid
Frob her a scoi dful frowd ;
But sood as I by prayers begid,
She cries, ‘Oh do—bego’de !’
By Bary-Adde is like the hood,
Whed first her silver sheed
Awakes the de'.ightidgale’s soft tude.
That else she had siledt beed :
But Bary-Adde, like the darkest dight
Od be, alas ! looks dowd ;
Her smiles od others bead their light,
Her frowds are all by owd ;
I’ve but one burthed to my so’g,
Her frowds are all by owd !”
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