y pen by either _hilariter_ or _celeriter_, save
as accident may determine. This, at least, gives hope of variety in the
consequences of my present step; but whether spiciness will also ensue,
will depend entirely on the humor of the writer and the complaisance of
the reader hereof. So with no further introduction, the following
children of my moods are presented for the kind consideration of those
under whose eyes they may fall.

--HAS A MAN A RIGHT TO USE AN OLD PUN IN MAKING A NEW JOKE?
This was a question which arose in the Quidnuncs coterie the other
evening, after Muggins had sent in the following, for the comic column
of a weekly paper, the editor of which had returned it gratefully but
firmly, on the score of superannuation: 'If Truth lie at the bottom of a
well, why should we be surprised that so many kick the bucket before
they are able to reach it?'

Slight sympathy was expressed for Muggins, but in my opinion that was
owing rather to the depravity evinced in the particular attempt than to
any condemnation of his conduct in making an old joke answer the purpose
of a new one. I confess that I don't see why a good pun should be
thrown aside after it has served as the soul of a single sentence. I am
a supporter of the doctrine of Transmigration of Puns. For a true pun
always has a humorous idea behind the verbal quip that is its prominent
characteristic. And though the verbal quip may be 'old as the hills,'
the joke may present a face fresh as that of a young maiden and bear a
meaning merry as her eyes. Thus an adept in this art once renovated two
veritable antiques:

'I tell thee, Binks, that the proposition is incontrovertible; any thing
that is worth doing is worth being _well done_.'

'Well, then, brother Noggs, what hast thou to say to a beef-steak? Does
not thy rule fail thee there?'

'Truly it doth, Binks; but thou wilt grant me that thine is a _rare_
exception?'

'That will I, right readily.' And both laughed heartily, and went their
ways.

--'SIR, YOU ARE TREADING ON MY FAVORITE CORN,' was the mild
protest of one in a crowd against the act of a neighbor who had
encroached on his pedal extremities, by attempting to violate the
philosophical axiom that two bodies can not occupy the same space
simultaneously. The remark raised a laugh; yet it involved a great
truth. Each of us has at least one pet infirmity, which we nurse as
earnestly, with a view to its becoming chronic, (perhaps unwittingly