A jest for the Times.
--The war has not subdued all the spirit of fun. The Knoxville (Tenn.) Register tells a joke connected with the present requisition for conscripts, as follows:‘ Some days ago Major Rucker was in conversation with a fair, fat, and forty buxom widow of an adjoining county, when, by accident, she mentioned the age of one of her admirers, stating that he was not quite thirty-nine. The Major made a mental note of the fact and soon departed. He went straightway in pursuit of this juvenile admirer of the attractive widow, whom he had before learned was a little more than forty years of age. When he arrested Mr. Johnson, Rucker stated that he regretted to inform him that he was under the painful necessity of conscripting him. ‘"I have learned,"’ said Rucker ‘"from widow — that you are only thirty-nine. She says that you told her so, and I feel it my duty to take you down to Col. Blake."’
"Oh! ah! yes," said Mr. Johnson, "in fact sir, to tell you the truth, sir, I did lie just a little to widow — I wanted, yes — I wanted to get married — you understand, don't you. Major?"
"I don't understand anything about it," said Rucker. "you must go with me."
Mr. Johnson's knees smote one another, and in tremulous accents he besought Major Rucker to permit him to send for the old family Bible. This was agreed to. In the meantime Rucker and his new levy proceeded to Col. Blake's headquarters. By the time they reached Knoxville, Rucker became satisfied that his follower was not less than three score years and ten. The widower's hair dye was washed away, his false teeth had been removed, his form was bent by the immense pressure of mental anxiety.
Col Blake wished to know why this antediluvian had been brought to him; but so complete had been the metamorphosis of the gay widower, that even Rucker blushed when he looked upon him.
The family Rible came, and there it was written in the faded scrawl of Mr. Johnson's grand- mother, "Silus Jonsing been in Bunkum, Nawth Calliny. Anny Domminy 1783!"
’
