HAVING AN OUTING.
The other day, two gentlemen from Huddersfield took a phæton for a day's outing, and went to Holmfirth. What occurred at that town is not our intention to relate, suffice it that they were "rather fu," when the commenced their journey homewards, and what with their additional potations and the effects of the night air, they became perfectly "glorious." Somewhere near eleven o'clock at night (for ought they seem to know it might have been broad non), just a little below Berry Brow, these unfortunate Jehus could get no further, and topsy-turvey they went on to the foot road. Shortly afterwards Mr. Superintendent Heaton came up, and found them sprawling on the ground — the phæton shaft broken, and one of the travellers groping in blissful ignorance for his chapo. In answer to Mr. Heaton's interrogations, they expressed themselves as "exceedingly glad that somebody had come up whom they knew;" and one of them added, "I told — you Bill — you would throw — us — over; but you would — drive — you know." Ultimately the unfortunate mortals were relieved from the dilemma, and we hope their night's experience will have taught them a beneficial lesson.