An Irishman who, with his wife, is employed on a truck-farm in New Jersey, recently found himself in a bad predicament, when, in attempting to evade the onslaughts of a savage dog, assistance came in the shape of his wife.
When the woman came up, the dog had fastened his teeth in the calf of her husband's leg and was holding on for dear life. Seizing a stone in the road, the Irishman's wife was about to hurl it, when the husband, with wonderful presence of mind, shouted:
"Mary! Mary! Don't throw the stone at the dog! throw it at me!"
Mary had a little lamb,
It's fleece was gone in spots,
For Mary fired her father's gun,
And lamby caught the shots!—Columbia Jester.
During the Saturday night revels in a frontier town, the scrawniest and skinniest beanpole-type citizen got shot in the leg. The only doctor in the town had done celebrating and gone to bed. A posse of citizens pounded on the doctor's door, until he thrust his head out of a window.
"Whazzamazzer?" he called down.
"Comea-runnin', Doc. Joe Jinks's been shot."
"In the laig."
"Some shootin'!" And the doctor slammed the window shut.