SEVENTH EMPTYING. 107 



praying for a wee drop of rain next Sunday ? Sorra a thing 

 f ll grow in my garden with the hate o' the weather." " I'm 

 sorry to hear that, Pat," said the priest, " but why don't you 

 ask Father Mooney, your own priest, and not me ? " " Ah ! 

 sure, your reverence, that's just it ; what's the good in axing 

 him to pray for rain wi' them cocks o' hay standing on his 

 lawn ? " 



* % 



A company of working men with whom I sat one evening 

 got on to the subject of large appetites, and one of them told 

 this story : One member of a company made a wager he 

 knew a man who could polish off a turkey at one sitting, and 

 to the man they all went in a body. He was in bed ; but, 

 being aroused, he put his head out of his window and 

 enquired what was wanted. " Bill," said the man who had 

 made the bet, " I want thee to come down and do me a bit 

 of a favour." " What is it ? " "I want thee to come and 

 eat a turkey." "Well, Jack," said the man from the 

 window, " I should like to oblige thee, but I have had rather 

 a heavy supper ; I've just eaten a young cawf." 



Heard on a river bank in a thunderstorm : Angler, with 

 a steel-centred cane-built rod, who has been talking in- 

 cessantly about flies, and hair, and gut for ten days, until 

 everybody has had more than enough of it, thus says to his 

 friend, as they hurry off to shelter : "I don't half like this 

 steel rod in my hand in a thunderstorm ; one of us may be 

 killed." "Well," says the other, "if you are killed you 

 won't be able to talk any more, and if I am killed I cannot 

 hear you, so pray let us not hurry." 



"Whisky," said the philosophic negro, speaking, no. 

 doubt, from experience, " will give you a headache, but a 



