"I haven't disobeyed you," answered Balakireff, coolly; "I'm not on Russian ground now!"

"Not on Russian ground?"

No; this cart-load of earth that I'm sitting on is Swedish soil. I dug it up in Finland only the other day!"

Peter, who had doubtless begun already to regret the loss of his jester, laughed at the evasion, and restored him to favor. Some Russian writers embellished this story (a German version of which figures in the adventures of Tyll Eulenspiegel) with the addition that Peter, on hearing the excuse, answered, "If Finland be Swedish soil now, it shall be Russian before long"a threat which he was not slow to fulfill.

The Flashes of Repartee.

CURRAN, being angry in a debate one day, put his hand on his heart, saying: "I am the trusty guardian of my own honor." "Then," replied Sir Boyle Roche, "I congratulate my honorable friend on the snug sinecure to which he has appointed himself."

On one occasion as the Rev. Matthew Wilkes, a celebrated London preacher, was on his way to a meeting of ministers, he got caught in a shower in the place called Billingsgate, where there were a large number of women dealing in fish, who were using most profane and vulgar language. As he stopped under a shed in the midst of them, he felt called upon to give at least his testimony against their wickedness.

"Don't you think," said he, speaking with the greatest deliberation and solemnity, "I shall appear as a swift witness against you in the day of judgment?"

"I presume so," said one, "for the biggest rogue always turns State's evidence."

Matthew, when he got to the meeting, related the incident. "And what did you say in reply, Mr. Wilkes?" said one of the ministers present.

"What could I?" was the characteristic reply.

The late Mr. Cobden used to tell the following anecdote :"When in America," said he, "I asked an enthusiastic American lady why her country could not rest satisfied with the immense unoccupied territories it already possessed, but must ever be hankering after the lands of its neighbors, when her somewhat remarkable reply was, "Oh, the propensity is a very bad one, I admit; but we came honestly by it, for we inherited it from England."

When Napoleon was only an officer of artillery, a Prussian officer said in his presence with much pride, "My countrymen. fight only for glory, but Frenchmen for money." "You are right," replied Napoleon; "each of them fight for what they are most in want of."

ance.

so,"

A gentleman complimented a lady on her improved appear"You are guilty of flattery," said the lady. "Not so, replied he, "for I vow you are as plump as a partridge." "At first," responded she, "I thought you guilty of flattery only, but you are now actually making game of me."

A pedlar asked an old lady, to whom he was trying to sell some articles, if she could tell him of any road that no pedlar had ever travelled. "I know of but one," said she, "and that is the road to Heaven."

"What is that dog barking at?" asked a fop, whose boots were more polished than his ideas. "Why," said the bystander, "he sees another puppy in your boots."

A Quaker gentleman, riding in a carriage with a fashionable lady decked with a profusion of jewelry, heard her complaining of the cold. Shivering in her lace bonnet and shawl, as light

as a cobweb, she exclaimed: "What shall I do to get warm?" "I really don't know," replied the Quaker solemnly, "unless thee puts on another breast pin."

I dined once with Curran, said one of his friends, in the public room of the chief inn at Greenwich, when he talked a great deal, and, as usual, with considerable exaggeration. Speaking of something which he would not do on any inducement, he exclaimed: "I had rather be hanged upon twenty gibbets." "Don't you think, sir, that one would be enough for you?" said a girl, a stranger, who was sitting at the table next to us. You ought to have seen Curran's face just then.

A tourist being exceedingly thirsty, stopped at a house by the roadside, and asked for a drink of milk. He emptied several cups, and asked for more. The woman of the house at length brought out a large bowl filled with milk, and setting it down on the table, remarked, "A person would think, sir, that you had never been weaned."

Theodore Hook was walking, in the days of Warren's blacking, where one of the emissaries of that shining character had written on the wall, "Try Warren's B-," but had been frightened by the approach of the owner of the property, and had fled. "The rest is lacking," said the wit.

The famous Rochester one day met Dr. Barrow in the Park, and being determined, as he said, to put down the rusty piece of divinity, accosted him by taking off his hat, and with a profound bow, exclaimed: "Doctor, I am yours to my shoetie." The Doctor, perceiving his aim, returned the salute with equal ceremony: "My Lord, I am yours to the ground." His lordship then made a deeper salam, and said: "Doctor, I am yours to the centre." Barrow replied, "My Lord, I am yours to the antipodes," on which Rochester made another attempt by exclaiming. "I am yours to the lowest pit." "There, my Lord, I leave you," replied Barrow.

A windy M. P., in the midst of a tedious speech, stopped to imbibe a glass of water.

"I rise," said Sheridan, "to a point of order."

Everybody started, wondering what the point of order was. "What is it?" said the speaker.

"I think, sir," said Sheridan, "it is out of order for a windmill to go by water."

At Oxford, some twenty years ago, a tutor in one of the colleges limped in his walk. Stopping one day last summer at a railroad station, he was accosted by a well-known politician, who recognized him, and asked him if he was not the chaplain at the college at such a time, naming the year. The doctor replied that he was. "I was there," said the interrogator, "and I know you by your limp." "Well," said the doctor, "it seems that my limping made a deeper impression on you than my preaching." "Ah, doctor," was the ready reply, "it is the highest compliment we can pay a minister to say that he is known by his walk, rather than by his conversation."

When Onslow was speaker of the British House of Commons, a member, who was very fond of hearing himself speak— though nobody would listen to him-on one occasion made a direct appeal to the chair, in consequence of the accustomed noise that was going on: "Mr. Speaker, I desire to know if I have not a right to be heard?" The speaker hoped, at first, to escape the necessity of a reply, by calling "Order! Order!" but this proving, as usual, of no avail, the honorable member inquired, in a louder tone than before," Sir, have not I a right to be heard?" "Sir," replied Onslow, "you have a right to speak."

Penn, the founder of Pennsylvania, abhorred smoking. His Quaker Council one day observing him approach, laid down their pipes. "I am glad to see," said Penn, "that you are ashamed of that vile habit." "Not at all," said a principal Friend, "we only lay down our pipes lest we should offend a weak brother."

A saloon-keeper having started business in a building where trunks had been made, asked a friend what he had better do with the old sign, "Trunk Factory." "O," said the friend, "just change the T to D, and it will suit you exactly."

Years ago, when Henry Ward Beecher's reputation was not world-wide, a Western Young Men's Christian Association tried to persuade the divine to go out and lecture to them without charge, saying it would increase his fame. He telegraphed in reply: "I will lecture for F. A. M. E.-fifty and my expenses."

Admiral Keppel was sent to the Dey of Algiers to negotiate the restoration of some English vessels which had been captured by Algerine pirates. He advocated the cause entrusted to him with a warmth and spirit which completely confounded the Dey's ideas of what was due to absolute power. "I wonder," said the offended dignitary, "at the King of England's insolence in sending me such a foolish, beardless boy."

"Had my master," retorted Keppel, "considered that wisdom was to be measured by the length of the beard, he would have sent you a he-goat."

Thackeray tells us of a woman begging alms from him, who, when she saw him put his hand in his pocket, cried out: "May the blessing of God follow you all your life!" But, when he only pulled out his snuff-box, she immediately added: “And never overtake ye."

requested by a "Be sure you

Dr. Reid, the celebrated medical writer, was lady of literary eminence to call at her house. recollect the address," she said as she quitted the room-" No. 1 Chesterfield street." 'Madam," said the doctor, "I am too great an admirer of politeness not to remember Chesterfield, and, I fear, too selfish ever to forget Number One."

Two men disputing about the pronunciation of the word "either"- -one saying it was ee-ther, the other i-ther—agreed to refer it to the first person they met, who happened to be an Irishman, who confounded both by declaring, "it's nayther, for it's ayther."