hull, and cut of sail,
That did for all our yatches.

But novelty, I hear them say,
Fresh novelty still hatches!
The Yankee yatch the keels will lay
Of many new club yatches.
And then we'll challenge Yankee land,
From Boston Bay to Natchez,
To run their crackest craft agin
Our spick-and-span new yatches.

Wit and Cruelty as Allies.

The Temptation to be Clever at Another's Expense is so Irresistible That
Whenever We Find a Modern Bon Mot We See a Victim
Picking Up Pieces of His Shattered Egotism.

It is almost a proverb that a witty person is also a cruel one. True wit
does not need to be caustic; but it is so much easier to be clever at some
one's expense than in any other way, that the person with a reputation to
sustain for saying witty things will fall into the habit of sarcasm very
readily if his heart is not particularly kind.

The Parson's Suggestion.

It is related of a famous English clergyman that when presiding at a
meeting where the necessity of wood-paving a street in his parish was
under discussion he became greatly disgusted at the want of intelligence
displayed by many of those present. Finally, unable to control the
annoyance which a more than usually frivolous objection occasioned him, he
said:

"Gentlemen, do not let us discuss the matter further. You have only to put
your heads together and the thing is done at once."

Lamb's Unkind Thrust.

Charles Lamb, than whom no gentler or kinder-hearted wit ever breathed, at
times found it impossible to restrain himself from the personal; as, for
instance, when he covered a friend with shame at a whist-party by blurting
out:

"Gad, James, if--if dirt were t-t-trumps, what a hand you would have!"

A Weighty Politician.

A personal _bon mot_, perpetrated at the expense of the late Sir William
Harcourt, is harmless enough:

"You must admit that he is a most weighty politician," insisted one of his
admirers.

"A weighty politician!" said an irreverent one. "I should think so! When
he moves to the east the west tips up."

Religiously Personal.

"Sir," said a little blustering man to a religious opponent--"I say, sir,
do you know to what sect I belong?"

"Well, I don't exactly know," was the answer, "but to judge from your
make, shape, and size, I should say you belong to a class called the
in-sect."

A Beggar's Benison.

An Irish beggarwoman, following a gentleman who