CARICATURE THE WIT & HUMOR OF A NATION IN PICTURE, SONG & STORY ILLUSTRATED BY AMERICA’S GREATEST ARTISTS SPECIAL EDITION CARICATURE (, EIGHTH EDITION ) WIT AND HUMOR OF A NATION IN PICTURE, SONG AND STORY Grant E. Hamilton “ Zim ” E. Flohri Art Young A. S. Daggy J. M. Flagg T. S. Sullivant R. F. Outcault Penrhvn Stanlaws j F. Nankivel S. Werner “Gus” Dirks F. L. Fithian “BB” Baker J. H. Smith Sydney Adamson Peter Newell H. C. Greening C. T. Anderson Illustrated by Frank Snapp Arthur Lewis Geo. Herriman Geo. R. Brill J. Conacher W. M. Goodes H. M. Wilder Jno. Cassell Hy Mayer C. J. Taylor T. S. Allen Bob Addams Albert Levering Malcolm Strauss F. H. Ladendori Charles Sarka R. S. Bredin Albert Bloch Bert Levy V. A. Soboda Fred Lewis Gordon Grant C. Knowlton Burges Johnson W. J. Lampton R. K. Munkittrick Poems Tom Masson W. D. Nesbit Frank H. Brooks and Stories by Edwin L. Sabin Edward W. Barnard Eugene Geary Carolyn Wells Henry Tyrrell and others LESLIE-JUDGE COMPANY, 225 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK . ' . " . . ' . > . i. THE LADY AND THE TIGER. Dear Lady of the quiet eyes, It is my fortune oft to see Thee stroke thy tiger tendenvise , Thyself lost in deep r every. Dear Lady, in these days and weeks My love for thee has slowly grown ; My ev'ry thought thy vision seeks ; No longer is my heart my own. O, lovely hands, O, misty hair ! And skin of thine own l oses’ hue ! To worship thee so finely fair Is giving but thy beauty's due. If my old loves these words should hear It would not make them sad at all. For ’ tis your fate to be, my dear, .4 picture hanging on my wall. — Ethel Augusta Cook. THE GARDEN OF A COMMUTER'S WIFE. Lines to a Lady in Distr ess T ADY, disappointment stricken, could you note my pulses quicken and my perturbation thicken, you would know 1 sympathize. For I, too, have felt affronted when I’ve found my ticket’s wonted price has risen — and they’ve grunted when I’ve voiced my hurt sur- prise. Ah, it’s bitter when our bub- ble of delight is pricked by trou- ble, for we see our sorrow double when the suds are in our eye! And it’s hard, we’ll grant, con- cealing certain petulance of feel- ing that is wont to come a-steal- ing when we see our money fly. But our reason, madam— rea- son should control the subtle trea- son of our passions — won’t you seize on just a shred? — I wish you would! Oh, recall how Eve and Adam, though a greater sorrow had ’em, left the paradise forbade ’em with what fortitude they could ! No, they surely “hadn’t ought to” — it’s a pretty pass we’re brought to — but the agent, ma'am, has naught to do with fixing of the fare. It is Fortune, ever fickle. Though a slight resentment prickle, yet I’d pay that other nickel, really, madam, I declare! For I’d like the matter straightened, as my train departs at eight, and it is getting rather late, and I am furthest in the line. Madam, while you closely care for earthly pence, you lose your fare for good Saint Peter — won’t you therefore move? — it's seven-fifty-nine! • — Cif/in Carruth. THE MILLENNIUM. Weary Warbler — “ Say, Dick, what's your idea of heaven ?" Lazy Dick — “ A million worms and no bean-shooters!” Sibilant Praise. One of the ushers approached a man who appeared to be annoying those about him. • “Don’t you like the show?” “Yes, indeed!” “Then why do you persist in hissing the performers?” “Why, m-man alive, I w-was- n’t h-hissing! I w-was s-s-simply s-s-s-saying to S-s-s-sammie that the s-s-s-singing is s-s-s-superb. ” Half of the world don’t know how their better halves live, and if they are wise, won’t try to find out. M W T H O D E R N A Better Atmosphere. '“THERE has been speculation along A various lines as to what new influ- ences would be apparent in the atmos- phere of the voting booth and the whole environment of election processes if woman should get the ballot in States which have always considered voting man’s peculiar prerogative. The most casual observer knows that election day does not develop scenes of courtesy or refinement in cities and dis- tricts where men, excited by partisan- ship, struggle in this exercise of the chief duty of citizenship. Of course there are cases where the dignity of the duty is appreciated and illustrated by men; but, on the whole, the incidents of an election are not uplifting or inspiring to the young who may witness them. In the States in which woman is now on an equal- ity with man as to the rights and duties of citi- zenship, there is unques- tionably an advance over old-time election meth- ods, and the whole atmos- phere of the function is cleaner and more inspir- ing. The courtesy which men of all stations in life instinctively pay to wom- an impels a greater dig- nity and a cleaner habit at the polls, and it rests with woman herself to carry this changed aspect of the duty beyond mere voting and into the ethics of politics if she shall finally win the fight she is waging. Arguments the “Antis’ Might Have Used. A woman was struggling in the river. “Throw her a plank!” cried the Suf- fragist. “By no means!” objected the Anti- Suffragist. “See how well she does without it !” (But she got the plank.) A woman carded wool and spun it at a wheel. To the man who offered ma- chinery to ease her labors, the Anti said, “The woman has always carded, spun and woven. To rob her of this occupa- tion would be to strike a blow at her femininity — it would make idle hands out of busy ones. Who knows what temptations would assail her in her new-found leisure?” (But she got the machinery.) “Come, let us reason with men to make the world better,” said the Suf- fragist. “Why should we?” said the indolent Anti. “We have less worthy weapons that have always worked well.” (But she will get the ballot!) — C. Hiltan-Turvey. How Could She? Shortly after the passage of the Fif- teenth Amendment, Harriet Beecher Stowe was walking over the Florida plantation which she had purchased with a part of her returns from “Uncle Tom’s Cabin.” Meeting one of her laborers, a white-haired ex-slave, she said to him, “Well, Uncle Toby, now that we have all worked so hard to get you the fran- chise, I hope you’ll use your vote to get it for us women, too.” Uncle Toby straightened the shoul- ders bowed by decades of slavery and regarded his mistress with a superior smile. “Laws, missy,” he answered, shaking his head pityingly, “does you think you knows enough to vote?” As an antonym to the term “vote- chasers,” to describe the suffragettes, some one has christened the “antis” the “vote-dodgers,” in compliment to their national president, Mrs. Arthur M. Dodge, of New York. OMAN Argument vs. Sentiment. The peculiarity, the well-nigh invinci- ble strength of anti-suffragists lies in the fact that their “arguments” are not arguments, but expressions of feeling. “You may break, you may shatter their pleas if you will, But the odor of sentiment hangs round them still.” Anti-suffragists, like Bostonians, in- habit a “state of mind.” Post-mortem. Wives of great men oft remind us We our wives could also please, And, departing, leave behind us Life-insurance policies. A Prophecy. The suffragettes were upheld by the entire body of W. C. T. U. throughout the country, and they are now coquet- ting with the brewers — hitherto allied with the anti-suffrage crowd. The get- ting together of the “very wets” and the “extra drys” is one of the features of the campaign in Wisconsin at the present time, where the constitutional amendment on suffrage comes before the voters next fall. The aspect of a white ribboner and a rotund brewer cheek by jowl on the suffrage platform is now an actual fact in the Dairy State. THE REFINING INFLUENCE AT THE POLLS. It came to pass, on the steenth day of the teenth month, that Priscilla Jaw- bones died. Priscilla and all the misconceived tribe of Priscilla perished from off the brains of men. And, verily, all the Old-line Publications stood by the grave of Pris- cilla and wept. For was not Priscilla a good pro- vider? “Millions,” said they, “have we made from the weaknesses of women!” But, even as they wept, a resplendent glory shone round about them — a glory as of count- less bursting gold mines. And, lifting up their eyes, they chanted awe- struck halleluiahs: “Yea, millions have we reaped from the weaknesses of women; but henceforth tens of billions shall be ours from the mighty strength of women !” IN THE VERNACULAR. First chauffeur — “ What has become of Aleck?” Second chauffeur — ” He hit up speed, skidded on a skirt, ran into consumption, and turned turtle.” The Modern Simple Simon. CIMPLE Simon met a pieman, Going to the fair; Said Simple Simon to the pieman, ‘‘Let me taste your ware.” Said the pieman to Simple Simon, ‘‘First show me your penny.” Whereupon Simple Simon produced the required coin, receiving in exchange therefor a pie, which he conveyed to his laboratory. Later, at the fair, the pieman was ap- prehended and placed under arrest. ‘‘I find, ” said Simple Simon, displaying the badge that showed him to be a pure- ifood inspector, ‘‘that glucose has been used in making the crust of this pie; also an inferior quality of chemical lard. Furthermore, the crust is underdone, the pie is stale, and artificial coloring has been used on the raspberries contained therein ; also more than one-tenth of one per cent, of benzoate of soda. In addi- tion, the pie is under weight. We in- tend to make an example of your case. The pure-food law must be obeyed.” Said the pieman to Simple Simon, ‘‘Mercy! My debts are many !” Said Simple Simon to the pieman, ‘‘Indeed! I haven’t any.” Reno laughs at locksmiths. Life and Love and Laughter. By JOHN KENDRICK BANGS. L IFE and Love and merry Laughter — These are things we all are after. Win the second, Love, and you Soon will have the other two; Win it not, and you will be Bankrupt in the blissful three — You may Live and you may Laugh, But the harvest will be chaff. Sure Cure. Mrs. Craivford — ‘‘Although my daugh- ter is such a big girl, she’s still afraid of the dark.” Mrs. Crabshaw — ‘‘Don’t worry about that, my dear. She’ll soon be in love.” “THE QUICK OR THE DEAD.” ATTACK BY A SOCIAL LION— ONE OF THE PERILS OF OUR CITY HIGHWAYS. Degrees. Guide for the War. Generous. Mrs. Gramercy — “It’s awful to have a jealous husband!’’ Mrs. Park — “But it’s worse, dear, to have one who isn’t jealous.” Z'"'' R1EVANCES and babies thrive on much nursing. CO FEW the rhymes for Italy, ^ She’ll have to make war prettily Or else conduct it wittily. And as for that of Turkey, It either must be murky Or else perchance be jerky. Most popular car in town — Oscar. Weary Willie — “That old Tightwad would never give you a nickel !” Tomato-can Joe — “Yes, he would.” Weary Willie — “For what?” Tomato-can Joe — “A dime.” Are the wild waves ever tamed? . MORE LIKE ONE. Checkers — “ I suppose you ’ve often been mistaken for a man ?” A Usher — “ Are you a friend of the groom ?” Madam — “Oh, my, no! I’m the bride’s mother.” the subject with skill and get their minds in the right mood before you come to the point. Be kind and gentle to them, and let them know by deft words and hints that it is they who are conferring the favor. When the pro- fession is so overcrowded you cannot afford to run any risks. Give them your 1 ist of references and a tabulated copy of all your charities, and tell them of some of your dreams to better the world. Get them interested in you, in your aspirations and hopes; get them to sympathize with your desire to uplift the world, so that it will become a per- sonal matter with them. Show them that the world cannot be bettered unless some one is willing to make concessions — to swallow his pride and accept philan- thropy from another, even though it be a comparative stranger. Once get them to take a personal interest in you, and their heart will soften and you will have easy sailing. Then, before you scarcely realize it, they will say, “That puts it in a new light. Yes, we will accept it under those considerations.” * « *t ' Lesson IV. Now that you have got some one to agree to accept your philanthropy, don’t destroy the efficacy of your good deed by dragging it down with too many pro- visos. Let them have it free and clear. Many a budding, philanthropist has over- leaped himself too soon and has had his benefaction returned, a white elephant on his hands. Give it to them to do with it as they please, for such things get around and the next time you apply to some other person or board you will be met by a cold and uncompromising refusal. — n»m.r cny. a Overlooked. By JOHN KENDRICK BANGS. W HOSE eye is fixed on morrow’s sun, And careless is of what’s to-day, Will miss, I fear, a deal of fun That may be plucked along the way ! THE ARK RUNS ON ARARAT AT FULL SPEED. Muck-raker. By J. WILEY OWES. M UCK RAKER, on a cloudy day. Raked where the world was making hay. Beneath his slouch hat gleamed the light Of malice and envy and craft and spite. And, as he raked, he sighed, “Ah, me ! That I fmore dirt and filth might see !” And ever he passed the mown hay sweet, Seeking for muck beneath his feet. He brought his odorous find to light And magnified it to human sight. And when he had shouted it o’er and o’er, He eagerly manufactured more. The judge came slowly riding by, And looked at the raker with keen gray eye. And then, with a mien both grave and grim. An injunction issued restraining him. DOOR ideas are often clothed in * a wealth of words. A LADY IN THE DAYS OF RAMESES. (Egyptian bronze portrait statue — B. C.) That there 's nothing new This lady of the Nile Is very, very true, Wore just our style, And it s plain enough to me Curls and puffs of hair ; In the ages B. C., Was slim and debonair ! Who Will Ride the Donkey? A LTHOUGH put forward by h i s friends, Congressman Underwood avows that he is not seeking theDemocratic nomination for President. Speaker Champ Clark has asserted that Missouri is committed to another and that he will not solicit the honor for him- self. The peripatetic Dr. Wilson went away out to the Ozarks of Arkansas to say that he is “not now a candidate for anything.” Bryan is out of it. Unless these distinguished gentlemen are dis- sembling, Governor Harmon, of Ohio, is left as the only declared candidate, and he is not on the road making speeches, but is holding down a chair in his office in the capitol building at Colum- bus. Set at Rest. <(| HEAR that your wife takes 1 boarders. Is there truth in the report?” quoth she. “No truth whatever, dear madam; ’Tis only a roomer," said he. ■■ i Primary Lessons in Geography. Rivers. CARLETON G. GARRETSON, Instructor. /CHILDREN, you have all doubtless seen a river. It is a long, slender body of water, surrounded by land at every point except where it enters the ocean. It is not fed by means of its mouth, as are the rest of us; but, in- stead, it is fed through its small ex- tremities. It takes a river a very long time to make its bed, and even then it is often prohibited from lying peacefully in it by means of dams, which are great piles of concrete, rock, and sometimes graft, that hold the river back for a while, then wash away and give imme- diate employment to the undertakers, State militia, philanthropists, and news- papers. In sections where the rainfall is exceptionally heavy, rivers are cov- ered with watersheds, so that the rain cannot roll the water and disturb the fish. Those text-books that attempt to make you believe that the various rivers rise in mountains or lakes or springs are misleading you, as a river cannot rise without assistance, according to the law of gravity — a law which has been in effect ever since its introduction by a Mr. Newton, and which makes it a penal offense for anybody to fall upward un- less propelled by some external force. Many of the rivers of the United States are navigable to other vehicles beside fish, and thousands of people live in houseboats upon them. This is why our floating population is so large. There is a beautiful river which passes by Al- bany and comes to New York. This river has never been dammed, except by steamboat pilots who have patronized its sandbars, which have no license to exist. Their troubles have been due to their own miscalculations, of course. Rivers have all kinds of banks. These are often strengthened by means of de- posits, and sometimes depleted by means of changes in current values. Now, the class should be able to tell a river from an ocean, a quart of milk, or any other aggregation of water. W IVES of fellow-men remind us We can make our wives sublime, If we keep our dears from wearing Gowns we see from time to time. The Next Excursion Idea. ROUND TRIP TICKET TO RENO AND RETURN, ONLY $9.99 For a Limited Time Only Each ticket includes meals, sleeper accommodations, and stop-over privilege of one hour. SPECIAL! Detachable coupon on each ticket entitles holder to one divorce, through our special arrangements. Pos- itively no delay ! Special trains from all princi- pal cities will leave daily. Even if you have not fully de- cided to get a divorce, the above rate will surely appeal to you, on account of its cheap- ness. Special Dining-room and Sleeper for Pet Dogs! Trading Stamps Given Every Saturday with Ticket! French Novels and Fudge for Sale on Every Train ! Positively No More than One Ticket a Month to a Customer. WE DEFY COMPETITION! OF SOME USE. She — 11 What are the higher courts for?” He — “ Why, some chaps, you know, have money left when the lower courts get through with them.” Major Archie Butt in Gotham. By WILLIAM J. LAMPTON. Those of us who couldn’t get quite near enoueb to see the President got a good deal of satisfaction out of a glimpse of Archie Butt. — From the Chicago Pott. L IKEWISE did little old New York Enjoy the pleasing view Of Major Archie marching round In buttons, lace, and blue. But Archie is no dove of peace, For by his soldier charms The ladies dropped the ballot-box And strove to rush to arms. P. S. Archie got away, as usual. Mary Again. M ARY had a little lamb. For which she didn’t care; She cut the wool from off its back, And now it is a little bare. No Room for End-seat Hog in Church. /'"'\UT IN Ohio a crusade has been started against the end-seat hog in churches. The custom of the first comer monopolizing the end seats in church pews is now selfish. There was a time when it was justified. The head of the family would take the end seat so as to be ready to protect his loved ones in case of an attack by Indians. There is not much danger now of such attacks, and the Christian spirit can be displayed when the first comer moves along and gives his brother or sister the choice end seat. Education. Knicker — ‘‘Is Smith taking a course in a correspondence school?” Bocker — ‘‘Yes; he is learning the col- lege yell by phonograph.” Misrepresentation. <‘V/OU’VE spoiled the sale of my new ^ novel!” ‘‘What’s the matter?” ‘‘You reviewed it under the heading ‘Recent Books,’ and the printer made it read ‘Decent Books,’ instead.” The Mrs. Misses the Misses. By J. W. BURGESS TF A WOMAN has one daughter, who goes away, the Mrs. misses the Miss and the Miss misses the Mrs. If she has two daughters and both are away, the Mrs. misses the Misses and the Misses miss the Mrs. If she has three daughters, and two are at one place and one at another, the Mrs. misses the Miss and the Misses, and the Miss A brilliant young chap from Fargo, Fell in love with a peach from Chicago ; He said, “ Be my wife, And sail through life As my own dear little she-cargo.” misses the Mrs. and the Misses. If it is four daughters she has and two are at one place, while the other two are away from home and separated, the Mrs. misses the Miss and the Misses and the Miss, and the Miss and the Misses miss the Misses and the Mrs., while the Misses miss the Mrs., and the Miss misses the Miss and the Misses and the Mrs. So they would all better remain at home with the Mr. of the Mrs. Considerate. Jaggs — ‘‘I want you to help me pick out an auto.” Loan shark — ‘‘Why me?” Jaggs — ‘‘You’ll probably own it in a short time.” MALICE PREPENSE. “ George, father advised me last night that I must not have you call on me.” “ I think you misunderstood him, dearie. Why he gave me a cigar this morning.” “ Oh ! Then you haven’t smoked it yet.” Wait a Bit! ’’"PRENTON has had the commission form of government only a few' weeks. Nevertheless, the statement is made that an annual saving of $30,000 has been effected. This news may be cheering to taxpayers, but they will be better satisfied if the saving material- izes at the end of the year. Cities often get municipal reform, but not often do they get reduced taxes. Some- how, promises of such reductions rarely take substantial form or show on tax bills. The Gentle Retort. TIE WAS always trying to be funny. A A There may be husbands more in- tolerable than that, but not many. She had been caught in a storm and was telling him about it. “The rain came on so suddenly that I had hardly time to put up my um- brella’’ — “Did you put it up?” he interrupted. “Of course I did, and as” “What did you get on it?” he inter- rupted with the time-worn solecism. “I got rain on it, of course. What did you think I got?” And he looked seriously injured by her lack of appreciation of his wit. Suggestive. MISTAKEN IDENTITY. She — “We’re good friends. How do you like my new hat?” Her neighbor — “Why not remain good friends?” A Problem in Mathematics. 'TTIERE is a certain instructor in mathematics in a Washington in- stitution who is beginning to wonder whether his five-year- old son is going to inherit his mathematical temperament. On one occasion the father and mother of this youngster, while visiting a resort near the capital, were watching the boys and girls swing the circle on a merry-go-round. The father commented upon the sight pre- sented by one small-sized young- ster astride a huge lion, and, as he did so, noticed a serious look on the face of his own off- spring, who was standing be- side him. such a solemn ex- Tom?” asked the WELL RECOMMENDED. Housewife—'' Have you a reference from a former em- ployer?” Housemaid — “ Yes’um ; I have eighty-six of ’em !” A Remarkable Woman. “T HAVE frequently heard that Mrs. Wattles was rather light in the mental department, but I have become convinced that she is a sensible, level- headed woman. It is my opinion, in fact, that she is one woman in ten thou- sand.” “What, if I may ask, has caused you to gain such a high opinion of her?” “She was here for an hour yesterday and never raised a single objection to the manner in which we are raising our baby,” “Why pression, father. “I was just wondering,” said Tom, who had had one ride and, having a ticket for another, wished to use it to the best ad- vantage, “whether I would get a longer ride than I had on the horse in the inside circle if I rode on one of the lions on the outside row.” The Boast. «I AM the originator of the back-to- * the-land movement!” Nebuchad- nezzar cried. Bitterly he watched the lesser lights steal it from him. ’T’HE real value of a baby can never A be determined by the size of the stork’s bill. A Needed Version. "THE SHOUTING and the tumult grows, The gust of passion swells and blows — Lord God of hosts, be with us all, Lest we recall, lest we recall! Heroes of Poverty. DRESIDENT TAFT, in his speech at 1 the Minnesota State University, reverted to the magnificent opportuni- ties offered in the United States for the poor young man. He added, “If there is anything that is an obstacle, that is difficult for a young man to overcome, it is an income that will enable a young man to live without work.” This is in line with the popular fashion of expres- sion on the subject. The matter is one on which there should be discrimination. If a young man be thorough, if he have the right qualities, it is better for him to have an income already earned for him than to be under' the necessity of earning one. The income gives him so much the better start. Ours is a coun- try of opportunity for all, rich or poor. In practice, the man of ability will make his way, regardless of riches or poverty. Theory to the contrary notwithstanding, a man who starts to fight the battle of life will find an income to be a help. Poverty has its heroes, but every one prefers not to be one of them. '“PHERE is a vast difference between A a mining strike and a mine strike. ON HER DIGNITY. Irate maid — “ An’ did ye think Oi’d shtand th’ impertinence av th’ loikes av yer childrun a-call- in’ me be me furst name ?’’ “ Yes. I want all the snow cleared away How long will it take you ?” “D’yez pay by the day or the job? ’’ No Room for Crinoline. Mrs. and Mr. A. M. Bitious {urgently) request the pleasure oj Mr. Eligible Man s company on Tuesday, November 1 3, IQII, to meet our {marriageable) daughter Miss I to Am A. M. Bitious. 34 Etiquette Boulevard. J to 7 , Inspection. 7 to 12, Dancing. Famished. T ALK about being hungry ! I was hungry as a bear; So, walking into a dairy lunch, I ate off the arm of a chair. r "PHE Emperor of China has signed an *■ edict dismissing obnoxious minis- ters and granting a liberal constitution to the country. The Emperor of China is five years of age. Young blood will tell. “ Well, boys, why are you working so hard ?” “ The man in there said he lost ten cents and that we could have it if we found it.’’ IF A BODY be presented A With a bottle of rye, Need a body at one sitting Drain the bottle dry? A Self-made Beauty. i * urtraDtllM BLEACHED a tj I.OC K.ED §i sanitarium BOOKINGS MA06 I ° heae TflKPHuNK |~~ Cu 0 *R «w,f i • ^iil ytyKiti^l ■r : : “«S 1ST OFFICE LARK NOON |«e* p ^ R°OMW w ^CENr 5 r 0/ j CIRCULATING LIBRAPY I latest fiction 2S C WEEK CANDIES eA 7 oe J IN BOXES To 'Take Hone ALL MAKES or CANTERS DEVELOPING AND PRINTING I PCgiOOi' ■■ Jiil* //Jff&PtoeSkl S. rhpp I ftj iSCMoot Of* / yjWMCUfHcl Pkorccnje 7 * OXfl WSg Lfg TTiLL-L/a/^- / Dc Fuss' / A/Mtt>AJ/Oi£ / SUSP&JDefr ' FOP Qouko SHOUU>Ei ? S I OUR DRUG STORES. Stranger — (after looking about) — “ Can you tell me where I can buy some quinine pills?” nervously. “Come along, George ! Take a chance fer once in your life !” he urged. The group about the stove settled back complacently at this. But it did not seem to be the Potts nature to take chances. “I’m inclined to think Uncle Silas used purty good jedgment in his guess,’’ mused Potts. “A likely cat ought to weigh somewhere around ten pounds.” The grocer and the group about the stove held their breath. “But this cat, here,” said Potts slowly, “has an uncommon lot of fur. Now, o’ course, fur don’t weigh much, but it weighs somethin’. Still, I don’t think it would weigh e-nuff to make a full pound, which would be eleven pound all told. Besides, I couldn’t guess that, because Dad Smith said eleven pound, and Peter Swink said twelve, as I remem- ber.” “That’s right,” came a voice from the stove group. “I couldn’t say less than ten pound, because William Swink here guessed nine pound, and my jedgment wouldn’t let me go less’n that figger under any circumstances.” The group about the stove seemed lost in one wide-spreading smile. But they had not counted sufficiently on the re- sources of the Potts sporting blood. Driven to close quarters, it occurred to George Potts that there was a safe mid- dle ground. “Say, boss, won't ye help us t' git a bite t' eat? I’d do most anything t’ git th ’ price of a meal.” “I’ll just say ten pound fer th’ cat, gentlemen, and half a pound fer the fur, makin’ altogether ten and a half pound,” he finally announced. At least he had not been guilty of making a hazardous guess at his time of life; he could not be furthest from the actual weight, for he was neither highest nor lowest! A groan went up from about the stove. With tears and lamentations Peter and William Swink were divid- ing twenty-five cents in change be- tween them, which they handed the grocer for cigars all around. Upon the scales, where the grocer had placed her, the cat lay peace- fully sleeping. George Potts, not- ing that the weight arm was swing- ing easily, leaned forward to see what the weight could be. To his surprise he discovered that the weight of the cat was just ten and one-half pounds. A Paradox. I think it’s the funniest joke, That when you’ve no money you’re broke ; And when you’ve no brains — it’s a fact — You’re not broke at all — only cracked ! The of Chidleigh Discouragement By J. A. WALDRON. < He knew he was a poet; But what he did was different, And all the world should know it. For, lo! he’d robbed a publisher, Who otherwise would blow it, And, with his blessing, he conferred The wad upon the poet. What? IV. J. Ljmpton, port. A Misunderstanding. First boarder — ‘‘Will you pass the cheese?” Second boarder — ‘‘How fast is it trav- eling?” Back Again. Now cease to fret o’er butcher bills, The price of meat forget. What matters if the finny folk Escape the fisher’s net? Farewell to pork chop and to stew! Avaunt, you costly steak ! We welcome back to festive board The juicy, red shortcake. An odor of the past — gasoline. A QUINTET. Professor Hug — “ I was looking for the South Pole, but I didn’t expect to find five of them.” A Personal Affront. Striking members of the Amalga- mated Skirt Stitchers were holding a conference. ‘‘Where is that tall, thin girl who joined the union last week?” inquired the walking delegate. The secretary arose to reply: ‘‘She handed in her resignation this morning. ” ‘‘What was her reason?” ‘‘She took offense when she was called on to act as a picket.” BALL FIENDS— THEY HAVE ARRIVED. Baseball. DASEBALL, a purely American insti- tution, is played by a few million fans, the newspapers and an umpire, assisted by two widely worshiped idols called pitchers. There are a few other supernumeraries in the game, but they are of no particular detriment. The contestants play out of doors nine months in the year and in vaudeville the rest of the time. The pitcher, unlike his inanimate namesake, is of no value when full. A wild pitcher is one who indulges in high balls. The purpose of the game is to score. When a team can’t score a run, it scores the umpire. When the players are raw they are roasted by the mana- ger, and when they are fresh he cans them. Baseball is not con- sidered a dangerous sport, al- though it causes a gigantic mor- tality among grandmothers each year. A baseball fan is a curious instrument used to keep the air in motion. It does not shut up, like many kinds of fans. A bleacher is a wide flight of steps, so ar- ranged as to get the full benefit of the afternoon sun and to be entirely cut off from breezes. One row of bleacher seats will comfortably accommodate a greater multitude of rooters than all the upholstered pews in a full-sized modern church. Here is an abridged dictionary of terms used in baseball : Hit — Vaudeville act headed by a big leaguer. Error — Any decision of the umpire against the team you are backing. “THE POWER BEHIND THE THROWN.” Rain check — A fan’s hope of the here- after. Knot hole — A small boy’s peep-sight into paradise. Jinx — An excuse for playing a bum game. (See Drinks.) Steal — Transaction of a ticket specu- lator. Safe — An enormous receptacle for holding the gate receipts of the cham- pionship series. Strike — Refusal of the players to work until the ghost walks. Walk — End of the strike. Tie — Part of a railroad track utilized on the homeward journey by the fan who bets on the losing team. ' -c c c. Sir Gilbert Parker, with fiery emphasis, declares that never, no, never, shall Russia have Persia. As Russia already has it, the only infer- ence is that Sir Gilbert Parker is still eminent in the realm of fiction. The cry of “batter up’’ now heard, is not a warning that the dough is rising. Hubby Passes. (A per version of Browning ) The year’s at the spring — And it’s Monday morn; Time— nearly seven; The dust rag’s unfurled. It’s springtime housecleaning — Inferno is born ! Sure as there’s heaven, All’s wrong in the world! Ratiocination. THE LINE UP. (Drawn with a single line.) THE FARE o n e r b y H u r r i e s M r . j\/IR. SONDERRY is one of the calm- est, coolest men on Long Island. He never hurries and he never misses a train. When he dresses for the theater, he dresses slowly, allowing himself am- ple time, and he is always ready and waiting by the time Mrs. Sonderby is half dressed. Then he walks at a re- spectable pace to the station with Mrs. Sonderby, has just one minute to await the train, and carries the whole thing through without fuss or flurry. It is a pleasure to see Mr. Sonderby dfess. Before dinner he lays out his linen and his dress suit and his tie, sees that his brushes and comb are in place, puts his clean socks beside his patent-leather shoes beside the low chair, inserts the cuff and collar buttons in their proper buttonholes, and makes all necessary preparations. After dinner he calmly dresses. No haste, no flurry, no hurry. He dresses with the slow but steady movements of a plumber work- ing by the hour. On September 1 5 1. h Mrs. Sonderby, about four in the aft- ernoon, called Mr. Sonderby on the telephone. “George, dear,” she said, “Mr. and Mrs. Merkle have in- vited us to the theater to-night — the Empire Theater. We will meet you in the lobby at eight- fifteen. Mrs. Merkle and I are going in early to do some shop- ping. They have a box, so you had better run out and have dinner at home and change your clothes. You can get the seven-thirty train to town, then, and just meet us.” “Very well, honey,” said Mr. Son- derby. “Are you sure about that train? You know, the winter time table goes into effect to-day.” “I know,” said Mrs. Sonderby. “I got a new time table yesterday, and I have just looked up the time. I’ll leave the time table on your dresser.” Mr. Sonderby reached Westcote on the train that arrives there at six-three. At six-eighteen he was in his house, and as Pauline, the maid, had dinner on the table, having been urged by Mrs. Sonderby not to delay Mr. Sonderby by having dinner late, Mr. Sonderby began eating at once. By ELLIS BARKER BUTLER. “Pauline,” he said, when he had eaten his soup and the chop was on the table, “will you run up and bring me the green time table you will find on my dresser?” Pauline brought it. Mr. Sonderby had reasonable faith in his wife, but women and time tables are notoriously incompatible, and he just wanted to see for himself. He opened the time table and glanced at it. “Great Scott!” he exclaimed, and threw his napkin on the table. “If that isn’t like a woman ! Seven-thirty, indeed! Why, that train goes at seven- fifteen, and there isn’t another until eight-twenty! I’ve got to hustle!” THE FATE OF THE LAST PEDESTRIAN. As a matter of fact, Mr. Sonderby could have finished his dinner as usual, dressed as usual, walked to the train as usual, and could have reached the sta- tion at seven-fourteen easily; but he had planned to catch a seven-thirty train, and he was a man of system. He jumped up from the table and rushed up the stairs, tearing off his coat as he ran. He threw his coat on the bed, cast his vest after it, jerked off his collar and tie, and in two minutes was in the bath- tub. In another minute he was out again. No time for a good rub! He jerked open three drawers in his dresser, turned their contents upside down — al- though he knew perfectly well his under- wear was in the third drawer. The underwear wouldn’t go on. It stuck in a dozen places to his wet skin, and he had to inch it on bit by bit, and even then the legs and arms were twisted wrong side before and clung like sticky flypaper. Mr. Sonderby dived at the dresser drawers again. “Where are those black silk socks?” he cried. “Where are they?” He jerked the contents of three draw- ers out on the floor, piece by piece. He dug into his sock drawer like a baby in a sand box. Red socks, blue socks, lavender socks, but no black socks. He scowled at the dresser a minute and made a dive for his wife’s dresser. He made that look as if a cyclone had struck it, and then his eye caught the darning bag, hanging on a door knob. He dumped its contents or the floor and searched the debris on his hands and knees. One sock ! One black silk sock, with a heel hole as big as the entrance to the mammoth cave! Mr. Son- derby snorted his wrath. And just at that moment he saw his underwear, his socks, his tie, and his dress shirt laid out neatly on the bed. “Humph!” said Mr. Son- derby. The thin silk socks stuck to his damp feet, and he ripped one of them almost in two, tug- ging at it. He jerked it off and began a hunt for black thread and a needle. He opened eighteen different boxes and twelve drawers. At last he found a broken needle, with no point, in a sew- ing-machine drawer, and a spool of lav- ender silk, and he spent five minutes trying to thread the needle; but he was in such a hurry he couldn’t do it. He threw the torn sock under the bed and put on the sock with the hole in the heel. Then he jumped for his dress shirt. He had it over his head before he thought of the collar buttons, and he jerked it off again, grabbed his old shirt, and shucked the collar and cuff buttons out of it. There was a tinkle on the floor, and Mr. Sonderby dropped on his hands and knees again. He had lost a collar button. {Continued on fagt / THE ONLY WAY “ I want a piece of meat without any bone, fat, or gristle.” “ Ye 'd better buy an egg, mum.” but I’m sure I gotta right to breathe if” ‘‘No, no, Mr. Squires!” Boggs assured the farmer soothingly. ‘‘You’re mistaking me for the Air Corporation, Unlimited. I am here as the sales representative of the Anyold Aeroplane Company. I have come to interest you in our Model T airship — the machine that’s equipped with the famous Olio engine — the kind with the sleeve valve — no timing gears, cams, or valve stems to bother with. Open the throttle and away she flies. Now, this aeroplane does away with” ‘‘Hold on!” interrupted Mr. Squires. ‘‘I don’t want to buy no aeroplane. My old limmyzine is in good condition yet, and terry OBVIOUS. Husband (who has been reading about a scandal — ‘‘ Well, Maria, we may be poor, but at least skeletons in our family.” in high life) there are no gives you at least a column of free publicity. You’re the first owner of an aeroplane in Praps County. You have a picture taken of self and family about to start on a mile-high journey — great souvenir for the parlor album and to send nephew in the city! Show him you’re up to date, even though you do live on a rural route. Of course you don’t fly in the machine — it wasn’t built for that purpose.” Mr. Squires objected. ‘‘I can’t pay six hundred dollars jest for a orna- ment, ” said he. ‘‘Ah!” The salesman beamed. ‘‘That’s the beauty of our machine. It was built, not for use, but for utility. Look!” He drew from his pocket a blue print of his product. ‘‘Here you’ve got detachable canvas wings. Use ’em to cover the hayrack in rainy weather, or they make good stable blankets. Here you’ve got the steering wheel. ' It will make over into a first-class wheelbarrow. Here you’ve got the patent detachable seat. A little tinkering with a hatchet and saw will convert this into a comfortable porch swing. This Olio motor runs the feed chopper, grist mill, churn, meat 'I chopper, vacuum cleaner, and coffee grinder.” ‘‘But how about that whirligig at the back? That ain’t good for nothin’,” objected Mr. Squires. “That,” explained Boggs, ‘‘that, hitched onto the same motor that runs the farm machinery, acts as an electric fan in summer and makes an efficient device with which to automatically shoo flies away from the din- ner table.” Mr. Squires scratched his head. ‘‘Wa-al, put me down fer two of ’em, if you want to,” he de- cided finally. “ Say what you will, the mod- ern airship is sure a great invention.” As of Old. They put Noah up for the Mariners’ Club; But, in face of his well-known trip. He was blackballed unanimously, they say, Because he had grounded his ship ! Justified. ‘‘The hour of twelve has struck!” hissed the ghost. ‘‘I don’t blame it,” replied the materialist. ‘‘It was worked to death long ago. ” A Slur. ‘‘See, I am familiar with your music,” re- marked the amateur at the musicale the other evening. ‘‘It seems so,” replied the popular composer. ‘‘You are taking liberties with it.” Preachers. NOTICE,” said Shagbark Jones, ‘‘that when a church goes into the show business, it drops into the ten- twent-thirt class right away, so far as the show is concerned. They wasn’t built for that. Not that I want back the old gloom-and-grief kind of preach- in’. No, sir! A mournful preacher ought to be sent missionary to the un- tamed cannibals, with a knife and fork tied round his neck, and a pure-food label pasted right under his necktie. ‘‘I don’t blame the preachers for tryin’ to get full churches. A desert island ain’t interestin’ to nobody until there’s some people on it; but it sort of seems to me that, as soon as they began puttin’ pews in churches and puttin’ numbers on the ends of the pews, the good clothes begun crowdin’ out the poor ones. There’s never been a theater suc- ceeded yet unless it had a gallery where you an’ me could sit and feel at home. ‘‘One trouble is the preachers is ever- lastin’ whalin’ their congregations. I’ve got a mighty clear notion myself that I’m a miserable sinner, but it braces me up once in a while to have somebody tell me I’ve got a couple of good points left. A feller don’t want to be whaled all the time. I knew a boy once that whalin’ cured, but he was about the only one. His teacher whaled him for bein’ late at school, and it cured him from bein’ late. He was never late at school ag’in. He stopped goin’. ” ~ Ellis Parker Butler. Baker — ‘‘Any new ideas at the Bul- lions’ motor dinner?” Barker — ‘‘Yes; in the middle of the table a fountain of gasoline was play- ing.” Those Thin Skirts. The wintry winds are keen, I wot, As across the streets the women go. Warm coats above — but, oh, great Scott! It must be awful cold below! A Careful Young Man. ‘‘You want to marry my daughter?” ‘‘I'm not certain, but I’d like an op- tion on her hand, sir.” Differences. Progress is the dif- ference between pres- ent-day monarchs and the people they claim. Cold steal is the dif- ference between your scales and those of some icemen. Soul — brief or other- wise — is the difference between wit and vul- garity. Failure is the differ- ence between one and one’s egotism. — Charles C. Jones. T. R.'s Favorite Song. KathleenManeuvering, It may be four years, It may be for ever. Shooting Affray. This is how a Ken- tucky editor, who is too busy to be a funny man, fixes up a local item : ‘‘Tom Stewart and Charlie Liddan engaged in a shooting affray at short range with Win- chesters on Monday af- ternoon, near town. They fired four shots, Charlie killing the dog on the fourth. They had it tied to a fence post. The dog belonged to John Garner and looked mad before it was killed. ” Her Furs and Feathers. Phil writes a check for Phyllis’s furs' — From Philip bursts a sigh: ‘‘Peace to your ashes, little brute! You were not skinned as I!” Phil writes a check for Phyllis’s plumes — From Philip breaks a cry: ‘‘Strut on, old bird ! Hold up your head ! You were not plucked, but I!” Variation of an Old Maxim. Eternal partisanship is the price of political patronage — The Office-seeker. NOT TO BE INTERRUPTED. 11 No, Ethel, I won't be able to go calling with you this week. I 'rn frightfully busy.” Fables in English AMBROSE BIERCE WITH PICTURES & CEORCE LCABbSON S3 ^Threatening Weather- E3 A T AN out-of-door meeting a dema- gogue was making a passionate plea for monkey suffrage, when an angel looked down from heaven and wept upon him. He lifted his eyes to the sky for a moment, then, observing the husband of his laundress occupying a seat on the platform, said to him in an earnest whisper, “Run home and tell your wife to take in all her washing from the drying line — I am about to advocate the initiative, the referendum, and the recall.” E3 A Weak Attachment S3 A POLITICAL boss, who, having 1 “■ been eschewed by his party, was appointed to the highest office in the gift of its real leader, met a dog’s tail, which was in an attitude of dejection between the animal’s hinder legs. “My unhappy friend,” said the de- posed boss, “what is the matter with you, and where does it hurt?” “This ungrateful dog,” answered the tail, “has thrown me off — that is where it hurts.” “But,” said the other, “you are not off; you are on.” “Only stuck on,” the tail explained, cautiously attempting a deprecatory wag. “The beast’s master did that.” Ever thereafter, when the dethroned statesman listened for the voice of hope, he heard only that of despair, reminding him that he was only stuck on. S The New Method S3 A CITIZEN whose property had been taken by political thieves was be- wailing his untoward fate. “You meet and greet them socially, do you not?” inquired the observant neighbor. “Their crime is the greater for that,” was the reply. “Possibly,” said the observant one; “but it is also the easier. Henceforth, whenever you take the hand of a thief, a decent regard for the interest of your pockets requires that you keep it.” Always afterward, when the citizen took the hand of a thief, he was so re- luctant to let go that all thieves thought he loved them, and, by way of adding the charm of ingratitude to the advan- tages of thrift, they plundered him with a special and particular assiduity. TheKin§^TheGeniusi3 A GENIUS who had built an airship was asked by the king why he did not send it up. “Alas!” replied the genius, sighing; “having lived a blameless life, I have no enemies to man it. Perhaps your Majesty will supply a captain and crew from among your own enemies.” “No,” said the king. “I, too, am destitute of enemies.” “I beg your Majesty to forgive me,” the genius said. “I spoke without re- flection. You also have lived a blame- less life.” “Well, no,” said the sovereign, thoughtfully scratching the royal head where it did not itch; “that is not just the way of it. The fact is, all my enemies have died a blameless death.” Threes fm&it! 'T’HE GREATEST man in a congres- 1 sional district met a pig and had the condescension to say, “Good-morn- ing, my humble friend!” “Sir,” said the pig austerely, “I am the greatest hog in all this region!” As the two passed on, an adjacent philosopher was heard to murmur, “One small pair.” Nature, who had just completed a politician, an ass, and a dog, said, “Not good. ” SIR LAUflcEI.OT RESCUES THE MAIDEN FROM DONJON KEEP. Johnnie’s Primer Lesson. By HARROLD SKINNER Topic- — Guests. Q— 4— B. Oh, see the cab ! Go, go ! cab, go. Will the cab go by! " RECIPROCAL. Grandma — “ Why, Frederick, I 'm sur- prised ! " i Frederick — “ It 's mutual, grandma It 's mutual.” No, the cab will not go by. The cab will stop at our door, and then it will go by. LOOK! LOOK! What is that fun-ny old thing in the cab? 13 it a wom-an going to the train? NO-OO-OO! It is a wom-an coming from the train. The woman is a guest. She lives in the country, some-times. What is the gue3t doing in the cab, then? Rub-ber-ing ! What is she rub-ber-ing for? She is rub-ber-ing for our number. She must have found it in the tele-phone book. SEE! SEE! She is twist-ing her lit-tle throat ! That is not a lit-tle throat. It is a lit-tle neck and long. JIO.W QUEER! Is she a Lit-tle Neck oyst-er? NO-OO-OO! She is a rub-ber neck lob-ster! Ho, ho! She is stretch-ing her neck like a crane! Will she break her neck? Oh, no, in-deed! It is' made of rub- ber. But she isn’t rub-bing any-thing, is she? Not yet. She is wait-ing to rub it into me. Is she com-ing to stay for three or four days? NO-OO-OO-OO! The guest is coming to stay for three or four months. Why does she do it? GOODNESS KNOWS! SHE IS ‘ Is the lady of the house at home ?” Mistaken Identity. Some folks are everlastingly being mistaken for others. Governor Carey, of Wyoming, discovered, on a recent visit to a city of considerable size in New York State, that he was a dead ringer for the mayor. ‘‘The fact was further impressed upon my mind one nierht on the street,” Gov- ernor Carey goes on, ‘‘when, just out- side of my hotel, I was hailed by a large policeman, who said, ‘Mr. Mayor, may I help you home to-night?’ I replied that I was feeling very well, indeed; and as the policeman turned away I overheard him remark to another patrol- man, ‘The mayor is certainly behaving himself better lately than he used to do.’ ” A CHAMELEON. “ When I don’t go out in comp’ny I 'm so blue, a.id when I do, I get so red, ’cause I'm so green.” NPii WiTTers THE RED ABOVE THE GREEN. “ Madam, this red hat reduces your years by about ten.” “ Yes ; and I suppose you 'll add the amount on to the bill.” Bye-bye. ALWAYS THE SAME CRY. Buy-buy. Suffrage Snapshots By IDA HEUSTED HARPER VV/ATCH New Jersey wake up! The Legislature gives a hearing on a bill for woman suffrage! When, in 1897, over 75,000 men in that enlightened and progressive State voted against giving women in the villages and rural districts the privilege of voting for school trus- tees, the suffragists -went away back and sat down. It never seemed worth while to get up until the movement in New York and Pennsylvania applied the galvanic battery to New Jersey. Now they are up to stay. It’s just one — blessed — thing after an- other in the Wisconsin suffrage cam- paign. No sooner had the brewers agreed that they would not make any organized fight on the pending amend- ment than the New York Anti-Suffrage Association announced that they would send their strongest speaker up there to defeat it. But cheer up! It is to be the same woman they sent out last fall to defeat the amendment in California! Senator Hinman ought to have known, when, as chairman, he voted against the woman-suffrage bill in the judiciary committee at Albany, that he invited disaster. Sure enough, when he stood on the platform waiting for his train, he was hit by a baggage truck. A Woman suffrage has struck Chicago’s Four Hundred. First it was a ballroom meeting at Mrs. Hobart Chatfield-Tay- lor’s, and then another at Mrs. Cyrus McCormick’s, with preliminary dinner parties and midnight suppers, just as if it were grand opera. This is a great deal better than looking upon it as opera bouffe, and this has always been the trouble with the suffrage movement — the public took it as a joke. It has been this fact, more than all others com- bined, that has kept the masses of women out of it. Here, then, is the mission of “society” — to make it so popular the women will fall over each other to get in. Then “society” can turn to a new fad, and the leaders of the movement, with an army around them, will do the rest. Society men do not count at all in this phase of the question. When it goes to the polls for final settlement, it is the men at the other end of the line who will win the victory for women. The six States where women will vote this year will have thirty-seven votes in the electoral college. Six Presidents, including Cleveland, were elected by this number of votes or less, so it be- hooves about two Republican and four or five Democratic candidates to find out where they really do stand on the ques- tion of woman suffrage, because they’ll have to stand somewhere, and that pretty soon. There doesn’t seem to be any particu- lar reason why four or five women should have been guests of honor at the annual banquet of the Police Lieutenants’ Be- nevolent Association, but they just sat up there and sang, “We’re here because we’re here.” And that isn’t the worst of it — they’re going to be everywhere else, and the men who don’t like it will have to go to the edge of the earth and jump off. The actors and the commercial trav- elers are demanding that some provision be made for them to cast their votes when they have to be away from home on election day. Haven’t they read Colonel Roosevelt’s recent article in the Outlook, in which he says the suffrage isn’t anything like as important as peo- ple think it is? Of course he was talk- ing about suffrage for women ; but what is sauce for the goose — only women are not such geese in this particular case as they used to be. a The wife of Congressman Taylor, of Colorado, says the women of that State have found that it does not take as long to vote as it does to match a piece of silk. It is to be hoped not, or the worst fears of the “antis” as to the neglect of the home and family would be more than realized. To the Anti-Suffragist. You say you do not want it forced upon you— That suffrage is a bother and a bore; You say you have enough to worry over. Without adding extra burdens to your score. Well, it doesn’t matter much that yon don’t want it; You’re going to get it, just as sure as fate ! So why not help to get it— get the power To vote it off again, before too late? Can’t you see the flaw in your position? Can’t you see the glaring paradox? You wouldn’t have things rudely thrust upon you, If only you could use the ballot box! — Elizabeth Manager. THE “TEN REASONS” CONTEST His Honor's offer of a prize of $10 for the ten best reasons, why women should vote, brought 1,500 replies. These are being judged by members of the suffrage parly well qualified for the task, and the result will be announced in the next issue. EVENING INFEKNAL MAGAZINE ThatBunchNextDoor.(No.61241) * ♦ * By Zip pnri m IdyQ [ B ^ rl N Vas / " ^ ^ J gB P’jrf'D r" - — j jtfjnllW iH^rtWT its ^ v-' no 3 _ — — - — i wiiilMF r* M ^ J soor^ IT - 'jjW-j.VN ""■A 7>p- — x. <» Syndicated Philosophy There’s many a dip ’twixt the slip and the ship. By John Mulligan T ACED makes waist. A rolling stone is a total loss. A bird in hand sometimes pecks you with his little bill. A beer-full waist is what the joyful want. A nickel saved is a schooner spurned. Never take off till to-morrow what you’re wearing on a warm spring day. Where Reno brings us bliss, ’tis folly to have wives. The crazy fan gives the most pains. You never drink the water till the growler runs dry. Our Daily Gemlet By Casper W. Kist There’s Company Coming There are visitors coming to the house to see us ; The sign of the cat, knife, and fork, which is a true saying. There are company coming to visit, For the cat is washing her face with her little velvety paw; She is cleaning herself with her little tongue ; She is sitting at the door waiting for the company to come. A man is coming at the door. For the cook has dropped a knife on the floor. A woman will pay a visit as soon as she can, For a fork fell out of father’s hand. There is going to be company coming this way, For auntie had her fortune told; She said : That the cards says, There’s company on the way. The Most Wonderful Story AmOIlg US GlflS I I I That Will Ever Be Written The Mystery of Miss Terry By Julius Dingding To-day’s Paragraph Chapter S66 (continued.) And then Reginald gazed into Octa- via’s liquid eyes and watched her mop her fevered brow, pulsating with the secret she dare not tell. Words would not come, although he had ordered them C. 0. D. How long he stood there un- conscious he never knew, but when he came to he murmured, “Octavia, I knew your brother. He has told me — told me that" (Continued in to-morrow’s Infernal.) | Daily Fashion Hints for Women By the Sporting Editor Clocks are being worn on silk stock- j ings. They strike one whenever they are seen, and may be bought on tick at all stores that advertise with us. The latest thing in millinery is the I rush-hour collapsible hat. When spread out, it measures a yard from tip to tip; but in crowded street cars it may be closed like an umbrella, falling over the face like a veil. A strip of isinglass is inserted in the portion covering the eyes. Checks are occasionally seen this spring, and are growing larger as Easter approaches. If you find that your checks are no good, stripes may be substituted. Chatelaines are coming in again. A fully equipped kit contains a manicure set, cheval mirror, a quart can of pow- der, pair of opera glasses, alarm clock, ' By Clarabd Bluffem Girlies, I received a thousand letters from you this morning. How I wish I might answer them all to-day! But that would be difficult in the small space allowed me, would it not? So I have opened a few at random. Here is the first: Dear Miss Bluffem — Can you tell me a good recipe for preserving peaches? Alice Newlywed. I would suggest a good facial cream, a skillful dressmaker and hairdresser, and a long walk every day. Dear Miss Bluffem — In entering a theater, should a man follow a lady? Carrie Bean. It depends on who the man is. If he is a licensed detective, he has a right to. If he is a bill col- lector, it would be much better for nim to wait until the next day. If he is simply a flirt, he should be checked at the door. Dear Miss Bluffem — Should a man propose to a girl on his knees? Archie Bald. If you have proceeded so far that the girl sits upon your knees, it would be a serious breach of etiquette if you did not propose to her. Dear Miss Bluffem — How can I make my biscuits light? Clara Bell. I would suggest that you open the window and carefully drop them out, being sure that they do not light upon the heads of any of the passers-by, as this would be as- sault with a deadly weapon — a very seri- ous offense. telephone directory, and a gum case. It may be carried in the hand or by a mes- senger boy. There is little danger of losing it, unless it is dropped from a ferryboat or into a coal hole. Narrow skirts are being sold in pairs. They may be worn one at a time in polite society, but for athletic purposes one may be placed on each limb. 3 M.R.H. ;-G*A wT 'Y 'h A W-' T. R THE. HAT HE SHIED INTO THE RING Egged on at Easter; or the Caprice of a Cruel Coquette. CHAPTER I. THE STRANGER’S SECRET. “LJIST !” * * These words fell from the lips of a tall, distinguished-looking man, rather commonplace in appearance and not over the average height, who glanced around the crowded aisles of Higgle & Sniggle’s mammoth emporium, during a marked-down sale of colored chalks and a special drive in harness to mark the joyous Easter. What could it mean? Perhaps Edgar Eastlake, the elevator boy, knew. But, if so, he said nothing, except to glance suspiciously at the stranger who stepped into the elevator. “Dogcake department,” murmured the latter hoarsely. CHAPTER II. THE SIREN’S SPELL. Cora, the cash girl, was one of those faultlessly beautiful girls who have golden hair and peachblow complexions all seasons alike, regardless of the ex- pense. She was but a sub-cashier in the em- ploy of the great firm of Higgle & Snig- gle, but for twenty years she had been known as the cash-girl coquette. Whis- pers of her great beauty had been By ROY L McCARDELl.. wafted abroad, and the haughty Duke of Dedbroke had sworn she should be his. He reckoned without Ed, the elevator boy, a lad who was bound to rise, and with whom Cora, the coquette, had plighted her troth. The duke had halted her now, and, as she was making change for a customer during the rush hours, she was in no hurry and paused to parley with the nobleman in her usual blithesome way. CHAPTER III. FROM POVERTY TO THE PEERAGE. ‘•‘For the last time, will you marry me?” hissed the proud scion of a raqe of belted earls — under Marquis of Queens- bury rules. ‘‘Are you a real duke?” she asked listlessly. For answer, he opened the dress-suit case he carried with him and took out his title, and, disentangling it from the soiled haberdashery in which it reposed, unrolled it before her eager eyes. One glance showed the heartless co- quette that the title was guaranteed by the Title Guarantee Company. ‘‘Aubrey, 1 am yours,” she whispered softly. And, faithless as she was fair, forgetting the troth she had plighted Edgar, the elevator boy, forswearing her promise to love him through all his ups and downs, she fled to become the proud bride of a ducal coronet. ****** As for Edgar Eastlake, he said noth- ing; but, by his grim and determined air, it could be seen that it were not well if the Duke of Dedbroke crossed the path of the pale, imperious elevator boy. One day he disappeared, and it was rumored that he had become a plumber. ‘‘He will move in the same social circles as his royal rival,” his friends said sig- nificantly; ‘‘then heaven help Aubrey, the Duke of Dedbroke!” CHAPTER IV. EGGED ON AT EASTER. The years had waxed and waned, and once again Easter came with crocuses and chills, and Nature donned her new spring garments of green, and all over the world fair femininity was fain to be eke and likewise newly garmented. The fair Duchess of Dedbroke petu- lantly paced her boudoir in the east wing of Hankypank Towers, the old ancestral seat of the Dedbroke family. In vain the duke besought her to be patient. ‘‘Have I not bought you a duck of a bonnet, a bird of a hat?” he asked. CHAPTER V. “You only say that because you have seen the bill !” she said sneeringly. “Ha!” he cried. “You wrong me! I only judged it by its wings. Rut does it not show that I have laid at your feet all that money could buy or refinement could wish?” “No!” Her eyes were blaring now. “You have squandered my dower, the change of a waiting customer, when I listened to your honeyed words. For you I threw over Edgar Eastlake, the elevator boy, and crushed his proud spirit. For you I came away from the glad glamour of my girlhood days in Higgle & Sniggle’s Mammoth Empo- rium; and what is my recompense? I am immured in a moldy old castle” — here she paused and added impressively — “the plumbing of which has been con- demned !” The duke mused a moment at these cruel and cutting words. “I care not for the consequences!” he said, with bitter emphasis. “Aye, even if it means a tiled bathroom and hot and cold water on every floor of Hankypank Towers ! She must — she shall be happy!” And, crossing the room, he seized the bell rope and yanked it violently. “Send fora plumber, and at once!” he said, with tense earnestness, when the answering menial appeared. FATE IN FUSTIAN. “Ha, ha! Ha, ha! Ha, ha!” These words were uttered by a man clad in diamonds and a cardigan jacket. It was no other than our old friend, Edgar Eastlake an elevator boy no more, but a proud and prosperous plumber, esti- mates cheerfully given. CHAPTER VI. THE WEAVING OF THE WEB. Little more remains to be told. Un- able to pay the bill brought in by Ed Eastlake, the demon plumber, the Duke of Dedbroke saw a mechanic’s lien put upon his ancestrah halls of Hankypank Towers. At the sale the property was bought in by the ex-elevator boy — now a plum- ber beyond the dreams of avarice — and in a few weeks the last of the Dedbrokes had drank himself to death like a gentle- man, although the papers said he died of a broken heart. CHAPTER VII. THE DEADFALL OF DESTINY. Ere yet another Easter brought the blossoms of springtide, Ed Eastlake wedded the fair Cora, Duchess of Ded- broke. With the wealth at her new husband’s command, she assumed the position in society for which she was so eminently fitted and for which she had so long aspired. Yet there are some who hold, even now, that it was all a deep-laid plot, in which Aubrey, the last Duke of Ded- broke. was the dupe. But who can read a coquette’s con- science or a plumber’s purpose? THE END. / Fashion’s Penalty. The tears were raining down his face; The wife feared ’twas a desperate case. “At last! At last!” the husband cried: “I’ve washed my face — it must be dried ! No Turkish towels on the rack; They’re in your gown- — alas! alack ! Thus to your shoulder now I flee, To wipe my face. Well, don’t blame me!” Barely Noticed. “What did Miss Dashington wear at the dinner party?” “Blue. I dropped my napkin and was able to look under the table.” “Paw, what is an optimist?” “An optimist, my boy, is a woman who thinks that everything is for the best, and that she is the best.” A Day in the Life of a Child. Off to school with Willie, Fearing to be late. Johnny, acting silly. Brains him with his slate. Rattlesnake in Johnny’s desk; Teacher’s antics picturesque. Homeward through the village, Johnny turns his toes; Arson, theft, and pillage Cheer him as he goes. So to bed, at close of day, Wearied with his childish play. J OHNNY wakens, cheerful — Playful little cub! — Nursie filling, clear full, Johnny’s morning tub. Johnny, quicker than a flash, Throws her in, to hear the splash. Breakfast bell is ringing; Johnny takes his place. See him gayly flinging Mush in mamma’s face! Papa shakes his head and glares; Johnny throws him down the stairs. Reader, if this sounds absurd, If you rather doubt my word, If you scornfully insist Such a child could not exist, Buy a paper, Sunday next — Yellow paper, lurid text — Read the comic section through! See if I have lied to you! — Denm Taylor EASTER WORSHIP ALLOWANCE FOR BREAKAGE. C. Abler — “ I wish to send a cablegram in Russian. What are the charges?” Operator — “ Four dollars a word and damages.” WHERE IT IS. “ John, get me my pocket-book, like a dear. If it isn’t on the kitchen table, or in the cut-glass bowl on the sideboard, you '11 probably find it under one of the sofa cushions in the sitting room . ’ ’ The Vinculum Wife Insurance Company. lVyiEN, attention! Is your wife in- sured? You insure your life, your house, your motor car. Why not your wife? Do not delay! Insure in our company ! This company is incorporated under the laws of the United States and is controlled by a capable board of di- rectors, including some of our best known novelists and playwrights. Eligibility: Every husband of sound body and sound mind (except for the slight trace of dementia shown in get- ting married at all), and whose replies to the appended questions are satisfactory, is eligi- ble to membership. Prohibited risks: Men who are married to suffra- gettes, to bridge fiends, or to members of the theatri- cal profession are not eligible, and their appli- cations cannot be consid- ered. To obtain a policy, subscribe your answers to the following questions : , Are you (a) handsome, (b) fairly good looking, or (c) plain? Are you of a jealous disposition? Do you give your wife enough money? (a) From her point of view? (b) From yours? Do you always let her have her way? Do you ever contradict her? Do you compliment her cooking? Do you compliment her clothes? Can you hook up her gown without swearing? Do you let her buy your neckties? Do you ever praise other women in her presence? Do you employ a lady stenographer? (If so, state her appearance. Append photograph, if possible.) Do you bring her flowers and candy as often as before you were married? Do you call her pet names-? Do you let her buy all the hats she wants? Applicants answering these questions satisfactorily are entitled to policies in our company. So far we have taken but few risks, but we are prepared to swing a large business if we can secure the policy-holders. Address, Vinculum Wife Insurance Company, Darby Benedick, Agent. — Carolyn Wtllt. Never trouble “bub- bles,” or “bubbles” ’ll trouble you. NOT OVERREACHING. “ Tommy, are you tall enough to reach that package on the mantelpiece ?” “ Not if it is my cough medicine.” J OHN SMITH, president of the colony of Virginia, 1608-1609, was a mem- ber of the proud and exclusive Smith family, of which only eight million three hundred and forty-four thousand six hundred and thirty-two members were living at eight o’clock last night. He was a descendant of Black Smith, one of the early English iron magnates, whom Longfellow has celebrated in his verse, “Under the spreading chestnut tree.” Little is known of the life of John Smith except what was written by him- J o h n Smith. By ELL/S PARKER BUTLER. self, and this, unfortunately, reads like an autobiography prepared especially for publication in ‘‘The Prominent Citizens of Scott County, Iowa.” There seem to be touches of a vivid and untamed imag- ination in John Smith’s autobiography. Whenever he came to a dull spot, he thought up something interesting and put it in, thus making his story thrill- ing and likely to be a best seller. An autobiography of this sort is snappy, but wouldn’t please Mr. Roosevelt. John was too prone to take the cold facts and wallop the hide off them. He was the sort of man that could go to church to hear a missionary, and come home and tell his wife he had been to the North Pole and got tangled in the equator there, escaping with his life only by grabbing the equator back of the ears and breaking its neck. For .that reason, I, with many other eminent authorities, am inclined to look on his story of Pocahontas with suspi- cion. I - have studied the eight existing ( Continued, on page 19.) EASY- | HELD rous KIMOS AMO there was r our POLLABS AMO . riETY CENTS IN THE KITTY DADDY SAID MONEYS WAS IN THE KITTY DADDY DID IT don’t take tommy’s mother long to put two and two together. Political Rule of Woman. By IDA HVSTED HARPER A CANDIDATE for the Nobel prize, given for the greatest service to humanity during the year, announces his claim in the New York Sun of re- cent date. He has made a discovery ! “The reason the woman suf- fragists are spending so much money and making so much noise is because they are striv- ing for the greatest prize this country affords — the political control of men.” How are they going to get it? Just read the census returns. “In 101 cities of over 25,000 in-* habitants and in seven States are more women than men, and they could take command whenever they chose if they had the vote.” And, alas! they are not so well prepared for statesmanship as men, he says. Of course men are dis- playing great “statesman- ship” in their management of our cities — but let that pass. “Woman suffrage is an ex- pedient for changing thiscoun- try from a man-government to a woman - government, ” says this rival of Dr. Cook in the field of discovery Well, why not? After men have had the upper hand for 130 years, isn't it women’s turn? A ONE SIDED DEVELOPMENT But would they get it, even through the ballot? The census report of 1911, which naturally the aiarmist didn't know was available, gives a ma- jority of about 2,692,000 men in this country, and a surplus of women in only five States. It also shows that this sur- plus is steadily decreasing. Another anti-suffrage scarecrow bowled over! Gone to join its little brother, who chanted the refrain for half a century, “Women wouldn’t vote if they had the suffrage!” What She Wants. 'Tis not alone the equal vote she’s asking. Nor equal right to govern her affairs, Nor privilege to gain a freer tasking Outside and in the home — in all she shares. 'Tis not to shirk her part as wife and mother; 'Tis not to ape the man— and work alone — Neglect one precious duty for another — Usurp his work and thus re- nounce her own. It is to share the freedom of the nation. She challenges the boast that we are free, While half the people have the regulation Of what the other half shall do and be. So it is to feel, indeed, the freedom — To have an open field — to make her choice — To be admitted to the nation’s household, On equal footing and with equal voice. On Dit. Mr. Roosevelt’s next cam- paign problem is: What sort of saddles ought to be used by the women voters who join Rough Rider campaign regi- ments in the suffrage States? ☆ It is rumored that the antis who have survived defeat in California are worried lest the gender of the Pacific fleet's men-of-war be changed by legislation. Well, they must worry about something. Mks MAY WILSON PRESTON, A successful artist and ardent suffragist enthusiast. The Logic of the Voter. “Oh, my dear Mrs. Suffragist,” said the politician, “we men would be glad to give the vote to efficient and capable women like you ; but how would you feel when your cook took a day off to go to the polls?” “I have not experienced much diffi- culty in that respect,” replied Mrs. Suf- fragist. “He has been voting for sev- eral years.” Literary Suffragism. Little pupil — “What is an anti- climax?” Suffragist teacher — “The mayor who asks a delegation of modern club- women ‘if their husbands know they’re out.’ ” Mks PEARCE BAILEY, President of the Equal Franchise Society of New York, and an important contributor to suffrage literature. A man, a miss. Ecstatic bliss ! What could be more divine than this? Tis not amiss that he should kiss, And yet it is, forsooth, a miss. But paradoxes do abound Where' er the god of love is found. " There 's many a slip ?" It matters not, Whene’er lips meet the cup 's forgot. A C o n s u m \TEARLY everything printed about A ~ the stage has been written from unimportant points of view. There is a mass of flubdub from the professional critic, often done in collaboration with the manager of his business office. There are the views of actors, which, were they only half as sincere, would be “ SCRATCH THEIR EARS WITH THEIR HIND LEGS WHILE THE PRIMA DONNA IS TRILLING.” worth about as much as a manicure’s. There are confessions and complaints from stars and soubrettes ; reminiscences from producers, describing how they managed on any amount of capital from a shoestring to a small fortune; and reams and reams of views, reviews, and interviews, for which the sole responsi- bility rests with press agents. But never is there anything from the con- tingent most concerned, that honorable legion to which the Rest of Us belong — plain persons known as consumers. This is what’s the matter with the stage: 1, Playwrights; 2, actors; 3, critics. Battered and honeyed in all of his waking moments by representatives of these three extra-eloquent profes- sions, the producer is deceived into be- lieving them real sources of informa- tion about what we consumers like to hear. Then, as if to make sure of de- luding himself as completely as possible, the producer loves to scatter a heavy- handed claque around in the audience, and thus keep himself from discovering whether or not the consumers are ap- plauding. If it weren’t for our box- office reproofs, the poor fellow wouldn’t have a chance in the world to guess at the facts. er’s View of t By CHARLES PHELPS CUSHING. It is nothing short of marvelous that, in spite of all these barriers on the trail to truth, a few producers have been sus- pecting lately that you and I are a little dissatisfied. And that is why, in an earnest attempt to please us, they have taken to slaughtering important stage traditions. Thus we have seen Belasco scourge the orchestras from his theaters, to give us the play tune-less. Just be- fore each act he had a hall -pay xylo- phone artist run the scales on some Japanese dinner chimes. The effect was to make the consumers hungry. Then he would ring up the curtain instead of serving something to eat. Bernard Shaw believed he was getting close to our innermost when he deleted the ten- der sentiments from his manuscripts and gave us plays that were love-less. (He urged the critic-less, also.) Yet he went wrong as far as did Ben Greet, who stowed away all the curtains and sets and strove to please with the scene- less. The New Theater in its house beautiful offered the drama star-less. Ibsen sent over some plays that were mirth-less. Scores of other deluded per- sons financially interested in the stage then tried to reach us with the art-less, sense-less, or the plot-less. Isadora Duncan’s young brother Raymond tried out the hat-less, shoe-less, and shave- less. He succeeded in expressing a lower order of emotion by wiggling his toes; but the face of him, in the shim- mer of footlights without grease paint, appeared cadaverous. And the latest is “Sumurun,” the word-less. “ BELASCO GAVE L’S THE TUNE-LESS PLAY — SENT THE ORCHESTRA HOME AND SUBSTI- TUTED THIS DINNER CHIME.” he Stage. Ah, me, friend producer, listen for once to a word from one of your con- sumers. If your idea of giving us some- thing new is always to slaughter instead of to augment, if you must lop off, please make first some lesser reforms instead of these rash, wholesale butch- eries. Really it is only a good plot, an interesting story, that we ask. Just that and little more. ’Tis all we ever have required, from the days of the Garden of Eden to these of the Garden of Allah. Not the wit-less — only the gag-less. We are insurgents, not bloody “the savage consumer keeps hoping SHE WILL BREAK IN TWO — BUT SHE NEVER DOES.” anarchists. We pray not the love-less — only the gush-less. Not the set-less, the tune-less, or the shave-less; rather the claque-less, dog-less, burntsugar- less, smoke-less, and eat-less. Remove the claque and find out whether we care to applaud your show or don’t. Take us out of agony by keeping your greyhounds in their kennels in the backyard or in the cellar, instead of lashing them to a property tree to scratch their ears with their hind legs while the prima donna is trilling. Chuck the decanters of burnt- sugar and water. Stage drinking isn’t realism; we common folks pour ours from jugs or flasks. Don’t allow your prodigal actors to throw away so many cigars and cigarettes half smoked. Good tobacco deservesbetter treatment — particularly in public. Don’t feed your troupe on the stage during an act. They never consume enough food to do them any good, and the Rest of Us feel in- sulted and uneasy while we watch them COUNTING THE COST. “ I do wish papa would let his garden grow. But he says things are high enough as it is.” It is for slight favors that we are thankful, as for the suppression of bom- bast from melodrama, the final exit of the eccentric king from comic opera, and the fact that the fat comedian dressed as a woman is becoming scarce. Our hearts leap up when we behold a grand piano that isn’t labeled with yel- low letters on the side: “This is a Gloomingdale Grand.” We are thank- ful — profoundly, sir — to observe that a villainess nowadays may wear another color than scarlet, that heroines need not be blond, that stage money is being better conserved, and that a musical show may end without a patriotic song and a display of red, white, and blue. Mangling a popular stanza — Oh, friend of ours, producer friend, You shouldn’t worry so; What we have missed of joy We couldn’t have, you know ! So please not to grow frantic. Please not to order any more great massacres before consulting the consumers. First eradicate such annoyances as the vain young fop with a small mustache who dances on table tops, and the young lady who doubles herself backward over his arm under the delusion that she is danc- ing. This type of girl, we all have dis- covered, never breaks in two, as the sometimes savage consumer keeps hop- ing she will do. You have fooled us long enough on this. Take her away. Suppress forever the local allusion. Also the song about dear old Broadway. Reduce the average of unnecessary pro- fanity. Prohibit the red electric light fireplace. It may go in England, where nobody appears to have heard about the invention of stoves and furnaces; but it makes a poor impression in a land which is intimate with steam heat. Recall REVERIES. that a recent production in New York shattered all traditions about fireplaces by having a young woman rescue The Papers with tongs. While you are about it, annihilate the young man who gam- bles on the stock market and rushes onto the stage, at least once every act, and screams, ‘‘I must see father!” If ever again you feel particularly bold, give us not another word-less play or something worse in the direction of worth-less, but some such genuine novelty as a drama in which nobody wears a dress suit or flourishes a revolver. Speaking of Numbers. Tell me not in Roman numbers, When you speak of corner stones. Or the dates that mark the slumbers Of some famous crumbling bones; For I will not get you clearly — I’m confused by Ms and Cs. If you tell me, do it merely In plain figures, if you please. Shall We Never Know ? The uncle of the King of England has visited New York, and the tumult and the shouting has died, as Kipling puts it. And yet the momentous question of the century is no nearer a solution than it was before — Who and which are New York’s Four Hundred? On mature con- sideration we have decided that we can still get a full night’s sleep without knowing the answer. Gruff customer (looking up from the menu card) — ‘‘Have you brains?” Timid ivaitress (confused) — ‘‘No, sir. That’s the reason I’m working here.” The courting swain in days of old vVas satisfied the hand to kiss Of her to whom his love he told; But twixt that distant day and this Full many changes have been wrought. We scorn mere paltry finger tips, Preferring kisses of the sort That need, forsooth, two pairs of lips The populace who used to dwell In days when reigned the tarantelle. To-day would witness with a shrug Our “ turkey trot " and “ bunny hug.” AMERICAN UNREST. B o n a p a r t e — N a p o 1 e IV/TR. BONAPARTE celebrated his ini- A * tial birthday at Ajaccio, Corsica, in 1769. He passed the day quietly in his own home, making friends with the family, faces at the nurse, and plans for the future. Being somewhat poor, he had little to spend in his early days except his youth, and this he did lavishly. At the tender age of ten, he was sent to a school where scientific scrapping was the initial num- ber on the curriculum. Here he amused himself by standing the other pupils in a row and knocking them over, as one does dominoes. Tiring of this quiet life, he became an officer in the regular army, and one day, in a moment of en- thusiasm, decided to conquer the world. This occupation kept him busy most of his time and he had little opportunity for exercise. His only recreations were posing for his photograph in a triangular hat and a far-away look and sighing for more worlds to conquer. He occasionally spent a week-end crossing the Alps and became very ex- pert at it. Being small of stature, he was able to jump from Alp to Alp with agility. Mr. Bonaparte was received with ovations wherever he went, and o n . spent his time pleasantly until he had a little misunderstanding at a small sta- tion on a branch line called Waterloo. This changed his plans entirely. His family physician sent him to a summer resort for a vacation; but finding the place infested with mosquitoes, knock- ers, and gossip, he hurried back to the city. Shortly after his return he was arrested for fighting without a license and sent up to do time on the island. Here he spent the hours gazing out over the sea with folded arms and hunting through his pocket for his return ticket. A Broadway restaurant is a place where people go who are not hungry, to eat things they don’t like, for which they pay prices they can’t afford. UNCLE SAM’S DAUGHTERS. rMP* p TH E- RHINfc VPuis JBT\ '■W MM I 'C3)C_>5 rL nb. MISS ST. I.OUIS. Q H s T T » 0 H MISS CINCINNATI. ^7/HEN the “Girly Widow” was tried on the dog in one of the New Eng- land cities, it provoked this caustic com- ment from one of the local papers: ‘‘The ‘Girly Widow,’ as performed last night, is full of dullness. There are situations that might be turned into good comedy, especially in the second act; but the incompetent members of the company do not seem to be able to easily rise to the heights necessary to carry out the author’s witty intentions. In spite of the cost of its production, it will certainly not be good for a year’s run when it reaches Broadway. ‘‘Mr. Walker Strutt, in the role of the young lieutenant, sings his lines without distinction and seems not to have a clear conception of the part’s requirements. ‘‘Miss Byllee Buster, in the title role, is not refined in her methods and does not do the character justice. ‘‘The chorus was good in spots, but they were a lot of awkward, raw girls at best, and there were many homely faces among the few fine lookers. ‘‘The only good thing that can be said of the orchestra is that it did not have to play often. ‘‘The shortsightedness of Mr. Smythe in putting his opera into the hands of the Tie Trotting Opera Company is to be deplored. Commended though he was for his previous work, this one will not add much to his dramatic stature.” ‘‘Oh, that is fine!” said the manager, THE ONLY REQUISITE. To be a hit in vaudeville And have your name in lights, Just spend three hundred for a gown. You ’ll pack 'em mats and nights. Don t worry what to start with — To get a lasting hand Just finish up by howling ‘‘ Alexander's Rag Time Band” ! E MBi ~~d tl - .i tuat i onr . that m i ght bo tu r ned iw t » good comedy, especially in the second act; the incompetent members of the company do o » t seem to ba able to easily rise to the heights necessary to carry out the author’s witty intentions. I n ep i lo of the coot of - S to - production , it will certainly -net- be good for a year’s run when it reaches Broadway. ‘‘Mr. Walker Strutt, in the role of the young lieutenant, sings his lines withow* distinction and seems not - to have a clear CQnception of the part’s requirements. “Miss Byllee Buster, in the title role, is refined in her methods and does not the character justice. ‘‘The chorus was good i n e pote r bu t- i. hov wore n- l ot of n wl i w tmh eaw g iel fr nt boot, and there were many homoly faces among tho fow fine- lookers. ‘- T he only good thing that can be said of the orchestra is th a t it did not hove u > p la y o f te n. “The dhorto i ghtednooo of Mr. Smythe in putting his opera into the hands of the Tie Trotting Opera Company is to he dep l o r ed. Commended though ho w ee ■t or h is nr e v i ous wor -k , this one will . no t- add much to his dramatic stature.” Harvey Peakt. UNNATURAL HISTORY LESSONS. The Buffalo. ■THE BUFFALO is a four-footed quadruped which derives A his name from a large city near Niagara Falls. He is a strongly constructed beast with many peculiarities. His head is large and heavy; so heavy in fajct, that were it not for the weight of his long tufted tail he would be continu- ally tipping up and standing on his muzzle. This would interfere with his eating, as the buffalo is a muzzle-loader, so we congratulate him on his heavy tail. The buffalo wears a large amount of hair on his head and face. This hair, instead of commencing at the skin and growing out, commences a number of inches away from the skin and grows in. He has very little hair around the waist, but there is a sizable beard on the lower end of his tail. The buffalo has only thirteen pairs of ribs. This is an unlucky number, and was perhaps the cause of the buffaloes’ ina- bility to continue their residence on the western plains. Buffaloes have horns, but they cannot blow them. They use them to annoy their enemies with. It’s said that a buffalo in good working order will toss an elephant over the highest tree in the prairie. But as there are no elephants or trees in the prairie we may put this down as a canard (meaning hoax ; ridiculous fabrication.) In India a species of bird perches on a buffalo’s hide and seeks the little ticks that are wont to tickle him. This is the way the game of hide and seek originated. You should never get buffalo and the bison mixed. The bison is an American make, while the buffalo is imported. Buffaloes are by no means shy, but as they injure the furniture by scarring it with their horns they are not cultivated as domestic pets. ****** “She’s yours, young man! Such nerve, I know, Will make up for your lack of Do.” The Silenced Pretender. Bilts — “Did you know that the oldest of Price’s seven daughters had eloped?” Siffert — “No. How was the old man affected?” Bilts — “Oh, he took on dreadfully at first; then he found out that every one knew he had bought the girl’s railroad ticket. ” In South America. First senorita — “She belongs to the most exclusive societies.” Second senorita — “Yes; she is a D. S. A. P. — Daughter of South Ameri- can Peace. She can trace her descent from ancestors who lived in the two years when we didn’t have any war.” MORAL. Young man, don’t mourn your dearth of kale. Just persevere —you’ll run the scale. REFLECTED GLORY. Visitor — “ Well, my little man, who are you?” Little man — “ I 'm the baby’s brother.” A Flight of Fancy. If people with a mental twist The doctors cannot fix, Supposed to be in Luna’s power. Are known as lunatics, The man that has a flying bee Amid his brain machinery And loves among the clouds to stick Must be an aeroplanitic. Not Like Mother Made. What it was. What it is. THE LINE OF LEAST RESISTANCE. The Social Scale. W HEN I proposed, she answered, “No; The man I wed must have the Do.” When next I piped my plaintive lay, She said, “Of hope there’s not a Re.” Again I made my fervid plea — She cast a withering glance at Mi. She met my fourth with cool “Aha! This matter’s gone a bit too Fa.” Johnny and his mother were din- ing with a friend. The first course was chicken soup with macaroni in it. The hostess watched Johnny as he sat quietly gazing into his plate. Finally she asked, “Why don’t you eat your soup, Johnny?” “1 don’t care for it, please, ma’am.” “But your mamma said you liked chicken soup.” “I do like mamma’s chicken soup, but she don’t put the windpipes in.” What it may be. Five times I sought to gain the goal. Said she, “You are a patient Sol !” The sixth, she said, “Go ask papa. Perhaps he’d like a son-in-La. ” So, armed with lengthy pedigree, I bolted forth, her dad to Si. On a Diet. Quizzo — “I understand that your friend Bronson is a vege- tarian. ” Quizzed — “Yes. He has such pronounced views on the sub- ject that he married a grass widow.” Their View. Mrs. Wayupp — ‘ ‘ She says their family settled in Boston.” Mrs. Blase — “Not to hear the tradesmen there talk.” Suspicious. Mrs. Talkalot — “Mrs. Dashaway says her house is full of antiques.” Mrs. Pneurich — “I knowed it was full of something. I seen ’em sprinkling insect powder around the other day.” A Soft Berth. Sympathetic lady — “Where did you sleep last night?” Weary Wiggles — “In a coal bin, mum. ” Sympathetic lady — “My gracious! How did you stand it? Wasn’t it an awfully hard bed?” Weary Wiggles — “No, mum. It wuz soft coal. ” At Palm Beach. “Seems to me it’s aw- fully stupid here,” re- marked the transplanted Broadwayite. “Can’t you rake up a little ex- citement?” “Well, I might let you have your bill,” suggest- ed the hotel manager. Tabloid Sermons. Be on the square— because it’s right, And then you sleep well, too, at night. Here is a hint I’ll give you cheap: “Uneasy is the swindler’s sleep.” Be patient, my son, as you go along; But not too patient — or you’re in wrong. Of things gone “flui” and things passe. The deadest of all is Yesterday! If you would roll in coin and pelf, Just keep your secrets to yourself. — Berfn Bralry. His Occupation. Farmer Hornbeak — “What’s your nephew, that graduated from college a spell ago, doin’ now?” Farmer Bentover — “Still colorin’ a meerschaum pipe.” Innocent. Poverty is a crime of which we can- not accuse the wealthy of being guilty. A MAN OF LOVE LETTERS. He — “ 1 always had an ambition to become known as a man of letters." She — “ And never gratified it?” He — “ Oh, yes. But I didn’t know how famous I was until my pro- ductions were read at a breach of promise case trial." The nPHE KANGAROO is a large, able- A bodied animal with an adipose tail and an anxious, care-worn expression of countenance. When standing the kan- garoo sits on its hind legs and doubles up its forepaws like .the fist of the wooden By ELLIS PARKER BUTLER. In general effect it looks as if the batter had not been quite thick enough when the kangaroo was put in the oven to bake. Botanically, the kangaroo belongs to the hop family. Nothing is sweeter than to see a large swarm of kangaroos hopping over the steppes and mesas of their native Australia, the whole vast flock rising and falling in unison, while the playful kangaroo children leap from pocket to pocket. Those who have studied the hopping apparatus of the kangaroo pronounce it a most perfect piece of mechanism. In hopping, the kangaroo presses its large and virile tail against the ground, digs its toes in the sand, takes a short reef in its back, and prepares to hop. It is then ready. At the moment it feels a hopping impulse, it pushes the earth with its tail, undigs its toes, unreefs its back, and away she goes, hoppety hop — hoppety hop — hoppety hop. Such thoughts as these make us marvel, in- deed, at the glorious prodigality of na- ture, and such things. The kangaroo can sit on the lower link of its left hind leg and scratch itself in the back of the head with its right hind toes. I have seen an otherwise staid and respectable kangaroo do this, with my own eyes. Even Theodore Roosevelt must pause and ponder before he at- tempts this feat, which is as nothing to the guileless and untutored kangaroo. We should study the kangaroo before we allow ourselves to become proud and haughty, puffed up with ideas of our human superiority. This gentle creature “HOPPETY HOP — HOPPETY HOP — HOPPETY HOP.” needs no baby carriage. It can sit down while standing upj Its eye is mild and its manner modest, and yet it can lift up its hind leg and kick a window in a Missouri mule before the mule has time to breathe its song of battle. The kan- garoo is a gentle, guileless creature, and yet one side swipe of its tough tail “ IT IS ONE OF THE MOST HOME-MADE LOOKING ANIMALS.” cigar-store Indian that grasps the neatly carved hunk of wood that is commonly supposed to represent either twelve cigars or a dozen stalks of short brown asparagus. The forelegs of the kanga- roo, instead of trailing on the ground like the forelegs of the horse, are at- tached to the handsome beast up some- where near the second story, just above the mezzanine floor, and are about as useful as the buttons on the tail of a coat. The young of the kangaroo are smaller than the female adult. This i3 one of the most far-sighted provisions of nature, since the lady kangaroo wears on the front of her robe de nuit a pantaloon pocket into which the young kangaroolets hop when danger approaches. If the young of the kangaroo family were larger than the adults they could only enter the pocket with extreme difficulty, and the appear- ance of the graceful mother kan- garoo would be sadly marred. In the scale of beauty the kan- garoo ranks between the wart hog and the toad. It is one of the most home-made looking animals. “‘that’s nothink but them sixteen last GROGS YOU AND ME HAD.’ ” could crush a red-headed dock-walloper into a plain, mushed-up desuetude. The kangaroo was first discovered by Captain Cook in 1770, in Tasmania and eastern Australia. Upon discovering it, Captain Cook turned to his first mate. “Hi say, Rill!’’ he said, with emo- tion. “Bally-lookin’ hanimals a cove sees in these yere latitudes! What?” “Right, oh, cap’n!” said the first mate heartily; “honly that ain’t no hanimal. That’s nothink but them six- teen last grogs you an’ me had in the cabin this mornin’, a-workin’ to the surface.” Fora few minutes the captain watched the young kangaroos jumping in and out'of the mother’s vest pocket, and then watched the whole cargo go loppety-lopping off across the plain. “Plain water for me arter this, Bill!” he said solemnly, and from that day until his death he never touched another drop of grog. That mysterious underground volcano discovered at the Culebra cut of the Panama canal is nothing but hot air escaping from the bot- tled-up wrath of Colombia. TOO LATE Time to Come Home. T HE small town boy had been sent to a farmer uncle’s to remain for two or three months, but at the end of the second week he showed up at home, much to the disapproval of his father. “Why, Willie, what have you come back here for?” the parent inquired in no pleasant tone. “I sent you to your uncle’s for a long stay.” “I know you did,” Willie replied; “but, you see, it was this way. The first week they killed a sheep, and we et that; the next week they killed a hog, and we et that; and yesterday the hired man died, and I thought it was about time to come home.” April First. Mother — “Why, what is the matter, Johnny? What are you crying about?” Johnny — “Teacher made me sit in her chair on the platform to-day, just be- cause I whispered once.” Mother — “Well, I don’t see anything dreadful in that. You have had to sit there before.” Johnny — “But there was tacks in her chair to-day! I’d just put ’em there for her to sit on. ” Trouble in the Chinese Republic. Mrs. Yung Lo (chairman of the Chinese Ladies’ Militant Millinery Association) — “We demand Hats for Women!” The Hon. Sin Hi (member of the Leg- islature in the province of York Nu) — “I am an Anti-Millineryist and cannot conscientiously support you in a move- ment that is a menace to the nation. Nothing would take women away from home so ‘much as the privilege of wear- ing hats; it would unfit our wives and mothers for their sacred duties. They would cease to know how to cook any- thing worthy of being touched with our chopsticks. Your demand threatens the foundations of the home. Our men have always worn the hats, and I believe they should retain the exclusive right. Be content with your happy lot as beings relieved of the responsibility of decid- ing what sort of hats you should wear. You are not yet intelligent enough to know whether to select a hat or a bon- net, a theater cap or an ear-covering toque. It will require generations of evolution before the members of the in- ferior sex are fitted to know the dangers they incur when they clamor for Hats for Women!” Incapable of a Doubt. When Senator Albert J. Beveridge first located in Indianapolis, he was v en- gaged in the trial of a case in which his opponent was no less a person than the late Benjamin Harrison. The young man’s policy throughout the case was that of the gadfly — he hung close about, buzzed, stung, made every attempt to attract the attention of his distinguished opponent — all to no avail. Harrispn’s attitude was that of utter ignorance of the young lawyer’s existence. That he was really aware of it, however, was evidenced by a remark made to a brother attorney some weeks later: “It would be a good thing for that young man if he were occasionally visited by a doubt. ” A Boomerang. Flightly—“l played an April fool joke on the Manywinter sisters.” Knightly — “What was it?” Flightly— “I proposed to both of them the same day.” Knightly — “I don’t see much joke in that.” Flightly — “Neither do I. They both accepted me.” NO ESCAPE. Penelope — “ If you loved him, why did you refuse him at first?” Ariadne — “ I wanted to see how he would act.” Penelope But he might have rushed off without waiting for an explanation.” Ariadne — “ Oh' I had the door locked.” ( SHEE NEARLY CORRECT. “ Look at the airyplane, Josh !” “ 'Tain’t no airyplane, Ezek ; one o' them incorrigibles, I think they call ’em.” An Up-to-date Reason. By CHARLES C. JONES. 1 CANNOT sing the old songs — The songs of long ago; My heart cries out for bold songs — Familiar songs, I know. But I don’t sing them ever. All blissful as of yore; From them I’m forced to sever, And thus it is I never Poetically soar. For Phyllis dotes on flying, And so, with head awhirl, I see — all else denying — The aviator girl. But lest, where wings are sting- ing, She fly from me some day, I’m forced to cease all singing And learn to do my winging In the new-fashioned way ! Cursory. A huntsman called on Hodge to settle for damage done by a run to hounds, and found only Mrs. Hodge at home. ‘‘Has your husband,” he in- quired, “made an examination yet?” “That he have, sir!” replied Mrs. Hodge, with a curtsey. “Rather a cursory examina- tion, I suspect?” “Oh, dreadful, sir! Such lang- widge I never heerd— never !” And the good woman held up her hands at the bare recollection. Definitions. Weather — A convenient handle with which to take hold of a conversation. Collar Button — The pivot around which a man’s toilet revolves. Sausage — T he link be- tween man and beast. Corsets — The straight and narrow way. Ragtime Music — The uni- versal slanguage of man- kind. A Woman’s Hotel — A hen- coop. Thoughts — Things for which we would be arrested if they were known. 1912 Weddings — Examples of the efficiency of leap year. Vaudeville — The hash of the dramatic bill of fare. Foods — Groundlings with aeroplane ambitions. Spring — The muzzle son for young poets. Age — The sediment clogging Sea- ttle pipes of the fountain of youth. Newspaper Enterprise. City editoi — “Hi, Sims!” Sims (the reporter) — “Yes, sir.” City editoi — “Go down tj the hotel and interview that magnate and get his denial of the interview at the same time. Scoot, now!” “OH, MAMMA ! HERE COMES A SANDWICH.” An Elaborate Dinner. “Was it an elaborate dinner?” “Very.” “Plenty of champagne?” “Flowed just like water. But that wasn’t the chief display.” “That so? Were the favors unusual?” “They were of solid gold. But what really attracted the most attention was that there seemed to be an unlimited supply of butter.” Sonnet to My Waiter. Oh, minion, fleet as Mercury of old, Who greetest me with smile and scrape and bow, Thou art a man of mighty skill, I vow; Insistent, yet not freshly over- bold. Thou sayest, “You really that must choose, And this to-day is cooked ex- tremely well”; And, though my eye on cheaper eats would dwell, I dare not thy suggestions to re- fuse. I would not have a waiter think me small Or well-nigh broke, for then, mayhap, he’d sneer Behind my back. I have a mor- tal fear Of waiters’ scorn. I can’t stand that at all. Come here, garcon; you’ve really served me right. Please take this tip. (I’ll foot it home to-night !) “This is a dead beat,” said the cop, as he made the rounds of the cemetery. And it came to pass that the graves yawned. Beauty and Genius in the Theater The Magic of Maxine and the Necromancy of VV7HEN Beauty exerts her charm on vv the stage — the noun should always be feminine — the critical notion that “art” should dominate dissolves in the witnessing mind, unless some atrophied critic, obsessed by younger memories, should be inclined to cavil at it. What do we know of the Peg Woffingtons, the Mistress Bellamys, and the Mistress Bracegirdles beyond what the enthusi- astic portrait painters of their times have handed down to posterity? There are women on the stage to-day that type these and other physical marvels of the past, and they do not require to be strictly or dominantly artistic to be ac- claimed — as long as beauty lasts. An example? Well, who can say that Maxine Elliott shall not figure to future generations as the belles of the stage of older time figure to this generation? Miss Elliott has been prominent ever since she divorced that versatile dabbler in matrimony, Nat Goodwin. She was accepted in the theater before the Good- win episode for a dazzling beauty; and Goodwin is a connoisseur. In the light of her physical radiance, critics — as well as the public — forgot to think or say anything very definite about her histrionism. Miss Elliott has long aspired to be “just an actress,” and still — in the intervals of her holiday- making — aspires to be one. Where is she at the moment? Possibly coming back from the Durbar, to become an in- cidental ornament of which she was invited by distinguished persons not remote from royalty. What should she care, really, whether she is accepted as an actress or whether the mass privi- leged to do so merely gazes upon her and is thrilled by other means? Her more domestic and hardly less handsome sis- ter, Gertrude, is appearing in a play called “White Magic.” What a term that might be for the beauty of a fair woman! Maxine’s name identifies a million-dollar theater in this capital. She maintains a great city house up- town, so near Fifth Avenue that it as- similates the atmosphere of that proud thoroughfare. She has a mansion in London, and her entourage might excite envy in the favorite of an Eastern poten- tate. White magic, indeed! And yet there are women who get along very well on the stage without inspiring portrait painters to depict mere beauty or causing the public to forget that really there is something else legitimate to the theater. Who, for instance, will care to refrain from seeing Great-grandmother Bernhardt when she comes again next year, as probably she will, to renew her impres- sions of America and the revenues of her son Maurice? On May 20th, 1880, as she was breaking the traditions of the Comedie Francais by leaving that historic institution to earn more money — she received there but thirty thousand francs a year — she remarked that the thirty thousand might do very well for persons “who will play twenty years, forty years, or fifty years”; but that when one did not want to grow gray at the theater, it was necessary to earn more “and to live more rapidly.” She asked if she should be one of these peo- ple “in twenty years,” and said she didn’t want to “grow old before the footlights.” Ah, vanity, vanity! And yet Bernhardt is almost as young in spirit as she was thirty years ago, when she was moved to climb the masts of ships, to hunt big game, to fondle a growing tiger as other women would a lapdog, and to sleep in a coffin. One still hears of manifestations of her Sarah. SARAH ItERNHARDT artistic temperament, but the tiger has grown up and naturally has been ban- ished from the boudoir. The coffin? Well, the years work wonders. Those Auto Horns. Oh, these auto-squawkers’ noises! From their tooting and their shrieking Soon we’ll lose our equipoises And asylums we’ll be seeking. Honk horns with their bulbs of rubber We can stand; they’re not infernal. But we’re prone to sob and blubber When from sleep, in hours nocturnal, We are waked by raucous whistles; And we long those auto drivers To o’ertake with leaden missiles And with tortures dire and divers. When they reach the lower regions And have ended earthly revels, Let us hope that many legions Of Old Nick’s assistant devils Each will take some sort of hooter, That on earth now all the rage is, And forninst their ears will toot ’er Down through all the coming ages. THE NEXT STEP? COAST DEFENCE OF THE FUTURE— WINDING OFF A FLEET OF HOSTILE AIRSHIPS Uncle Silas Goes to Grand Opera. cud see my verricose veins clean through 'em, en the sleeves uv the coat quit so high up et purty nigh all uv my knit wristers wuz showin’. Ef they'd a ben white stid uv red, it wouldn’t a ben so bad. Raout eight o’clock Hiram he hired us one uv them taxin' cabs. They wuz a little dingus onto it tew tell us haow far we wuz travelin’, en I’ll be durned ef we didn’t kiver eighty miles in less’n ten minnits. Jee- rusalem, haow them things kin scoot ! “The opery house wuz purty nigh full up when we got thar. but the manager knowed Hiram en I wuz cornin’, I reckon, cuz they’d kep us tew good seats The manager, he sez, ‘Cum right down in the or- chestry’; but 1 tole Hi 1 didn’t want tew set with the fiddlers en all them so the manager hegiv us seats in the front pew instid. He sez, * Ere gentlemen, you’re in Hay.' Thet made me a little mite mad. but Hi, he sez the feller wuz an Englishman en heel his aitches dislocated, and thet he meant A I wuz sorry thet he hed tew be managin when he hed thet trouble, but I didn ’t say no more abaout it. “Wall, they wuz a woman set- tin’ in front uv me thet purty nigh spilt the hull opery. When she’d tuck off her coat she’d made a mistake en took her waist along with it. She hedn t a stitch left onto her back but a pair uv silk galluses, but she didn’t seem ter “ITAOWDY, Silas?’’ said Lem Gil- 1 strap, the postmaster and gen- eral merchant of Stringtown, as the per son addressed entered his emporium. “Heerd ye went tew the opery while ye wuz tew Noo York visitin’ along Hiram’s folks. ” “Wall. I shud calklate I did,” said Uncle Silas; “en 1 wunt never fergit it —no, sirree!’’ “What wuz it like? Can’t ye tell us abaout it?” Lem asked. This suggestion was echoed by a half-dozen other Stringville citi- zens who were grouped around the comfortable-looking stove in the rear of the store, where they daily congregated in the winter season for the mental recreation gotten from the interchange of profound ideas “What wuz it like?” repeated Uncle Silas, seating himself on an inviting and centrally located nail keg. “It warn’t like nothin’. It wuz the tarnationest lot uv crazy carryin’s on thet I ever heerd tell on. Cum purty nigh supper-time, Hiram, he sez tew me, ‘Dad,’ he sez, '1 hev tew tickets fer the opery to-night; but ye can’t wear them cloze,’ he sez. ‘Ye’ll hev tew hev evenin’ cloze. ’ The near- est thing I hed tew evenin’ cloze wuz night cloze, but I sez, ‘I’ve got a biled shirt in the valeese thet yer ma done up last year. I’ve only hed it on five er six times, en it hain’t dirty yit, ’ I sez. I'll put thet on, en turn my vest back under my gallusses, en pin up my black meetin’ coat soz it’ll look jest like yourn.’ I sez But Hi, he sez we’d hev tew go to a costoom rentin’ place en hire one. “Wall, I faound one thet wud a fit me fine ef it hadder ben ’baout six sizes bigger. The pants wuz so tight yew Both — ” Gee ! what a nerve he has ’’ keer a durn. I thot mebby she wuz so excited ’baout seein’ the opery thet she didn’t know what she’d done, en I wuzgoin’ tew tell ’er; but Hi, he sez tew leave her alone, so I hed tew set thar en watch the show over her bare back. I’d a hated tew see Mirandy set- tin’ thar like thet. “Then the opery commenced. It wuz the drattedest thing I ever see. The actors en actresses kep’ singin’ while they wuz actin’. You cud a heerd them a-singin’ frum yere up tew Stringtaown Corners. Hiram, he sez the name uv the opery wuz ‘Twist ’Em en a Sol- dier,’ er sum sech fool name like thet. They didn’t sing no toons, en one wouldn’t wait 'tell another got done. Sometimes they wuz six singin’ tew oncet, all different One fat feller nigh busted, he got so mad at a woman ’et kep’ sing- in when he wanted her to quit. I reckon he wuz full. They say them actor folks drinks like fishes. Sometimes most on ’em ’d go aout. en leave one feller en his woman. Seems like they wuz lonesome, cuz they’d com- mence bawlin’ en kissin’. It didn’t do ’em no good tew try tew talk, cuz they wuz foreigners, en cudn’t onderstand each other nohow. Them folks kep’ up THE RETURN OF THE DOVE — A.D, H82+ their didoes fer nigh onto three hours, en I got tarnation sleepy ; but ever oncet in a while some one’d let out a war-whoop, then I’d open my eyes en glanct at thet woman’s naked back in front uv me, en the shock’d keep me awake sum time. “Wall, they got tuckered aout en quit arter a while, en I wuz glad it wuz over. I heerd the woman in front uv me say tew her man, ‘Isn’t Gatticazzazi a lallapaloosa?’ So the poor woman, I see, wuz crazy as tunket. Probly she didn’t know she wuz ondressin’ thetaway, en her man orter hev told her. “Opery may be grand fer them as likes it. but I’d ruther hear our choir daown tew the meetin’ house sing, ‘When the Roll Is Called up Yender, ’ then tew hear en see all the grand operys they is in the hull kentrv.’’ Diamond Dust. The first step of bachelors to secure better quarters should be to look around for better halves. Keep a friend — don’t marry him. None but the braids preserve the hair. Beauty that is not skin deep will rub off. It is often true that the dentist feeds himself better with your teeth than you do yourself. It Usually Does. “Has marriage brought about a great change in Bilkins?” “No; it has made small change." CAB. SIR! CAB?" HOW AGGRAVATING. Brown— “1 saw a man drop twenty stories the other day, and it was a caution the way he swore.’’ Greene — “ Swore after dropping twenty stories ? ” Brown— “Yes. They were in a magazine he had just bought, and he dropped it in the mud.” Why Books Multiply. IN THE first place, Scribbleton * writes a book called “The Hus- bands of Lucy.” It scores a big success, and a reporter from the Daily Grind, interviews the author. Other reporters come, till the writ- er begins to wonder why he can- not do something in that line him- self. He gets out another volume, “How I Came To Write ‘The Hus- bands of Lucy.’ ” Then Littleman Lackcopy publishes one entitled “The Home Life of Scribbleton, Author of ‘The Husbands of Lu- cy,’ ” and Susan Spoilpaper takes her pen in hand and produces ‘ The Character of Lucy : Is She Typi- cal?” Next Albert Alsoran comes out with “Scribbleton— An Apprecia- tion,” and J. Jumpupp calls his “Is Scribbleton Overrated?” Scribbleton is pretty sure he is not overrated, and he likes the taste of royalties; so he tries again, calling it “Moonlight on the Highway : A Sequel to ‘The Husbands of Lu- cy.’” In the meantime Oliver Goldsmith Sneakaround has pub- lished “The Debt Scribbleton Owes to Wrightenwell.” After a while Scribbleton dies and his wife breaks into print with “Some Unfinished Stories by Scribbleton, Edited by His Wife.” Isaac Inkslinger per- petrates “The Scribbleton I Knew,” and J. Jones Gumshoe “Scribbleton’s Love Affairs.” The reporter who first wrote him up steps to the front with “Scribbleton and Other Celebri- ties I Have Interviewed.” Then appear “Scribbleton’s Place in Literature,” by Book- worm Research, and “Scribble- ton’s Letters,” by Bronson Bodysnatcher. There is no knowing how far it might go, but, fortunately, a new authorappears, whose book makes even a greater stir than Scribbleton’s; so Scribbleton and “The Husbands of Lucy” are relegated to the background, for the present at least, while the crowd goes through the same performance with the new man. — Walter G. Dot). Soft drink turneth away guests. The Passionate Aviator. (Three hundred years after Kit Marlowe.) Come, fly with me and be my love. And we’ll skyhoot through realms above ; We’ll sail as high as we can go — For love on land is now too “slow.” We’ll take a spin among the stars. And spend our honeymoon on Mars ; Then, when the year gets round to June, We’ll do our spooning i:i the moon. For us Niagara has no charms; Mundane resorts are “false alarms.” Let others hike to hills or bay — We’ll skim adown the Milky Way. The Evening Star shall be our lamp, And Sirius shall guard our camp; Orion shall be there to keep The Bears from breaking up our sleep. In wind-swept space we shall enjoy Our love without earth’s base alloy. So fly with me and be my love. And we shall all the pleasures prove. — John Northern Hilliard. Any Port in a Storm. “But, George,” said Mrs. Bjones, “ I cannot go to the thea- ter with you to-night. I have nothing to wear.” “That’s all right, dear,” said Bjones. “Put it on and we’ll go to the opera.” Method in Their Modesty. “Aviators appear to be a modest set. ” “They probably appreciate the truth of the adage, ‘Pride goes before a fall.’ ” THE WORM AND THE BUTTERFLY. New Variety. Barely had the caterpillar set- tled himself to eat, however, than he was touched on the shoulder by an attendant, who held out a plate in a significant manner. “What!” exclaimed the cat- erpillar indignantly. The attendant pointed to an indicator. “This,” quoth he quietly, “is a taxicabbage !” SATISFIED WITH HIMSELF. Scarecroav (proudly) — “ Ha ! I can even scare the big ones away.” When Money Took Wings. Comedian — “Did the ghost walk?” Soubrette — “No; it was an aviation comedy, and the ghost flew after the first week.” LOVE S VEHICLES J . A. WA L D R O N W HEN Love his shining mark has set For happiness on maid and man, No opposition ever yet Their plans has foiled since time began. That fervid phrase, “Oh, fly with me!” Has similars in every tongue. It voices Love’s emergency Whenever sighed, whenever sung. Eloping always is a game That lovers play to lead the van. Pursuers either pull up lame Or figure with the “also ran.” And on the backs of fiery steeds Full many a pair has got away, While wagons and velocipedes Or other means have won the day. In arctic regions dog-sleds glide The fur-clad couples on their way; And on the backs of camels ride Your desert lovers as they may. No land lacks locomotive means When lovers make their plans to flee, And naught effective intervenes To head them off by land or sea. Love’s purpose in the olden days But lovers now more favored are S3J L.augnea at tne araworiage ana tne moat, For there are always many ways To get the opposition goat. man lovers were witn cruaer aias. For many use a motor car And scorch away to happy glades. No night so dark, no road so rough, No sun so hot, no day so cold, But that the lover bold enough Can conquer troubles manifold. And those who in the future fail To find a horse or catch a train Will simply look aloft and hail Some traffic-seeking aeroplane. Eternal activity is the price of pub- lic notice. — The Man Who Knows. Eternal straddling is the price of a second term. — The Present Incumbent. Variations of an Old Maxim. Eternal contribution is the price of immunity . — The In-bad. Interests. Eternal invention of new issues is the price of existence . — The Party Leaders. Eternal importunation for votes is the price of citizenship. — The Voter. Eternal diligence is the price of the price. — The Consumer. - m sthnudtr. Spring Love Song. Model 1912. Oh, love, my love, let us away Along the pleasant roads of May, To view the vernal scene! New-model cars bloom freshly fair, While mingles with the balmy air The smell of gasoline! Come, love, my love ! The honk- bird calls Away from city streets and walls To rural stream and mead. Youth’s gay abandon in the blood, We’ll saunter forth by field and wood At fifty h. p. speed ! Or, love, my love, if haply you Some newer curves prefer to do, My duoplane I’ll bring. And, rivaling the sylvan elves, We’ll do some Ariel tyrns our- selves, This jocund morn of Spring! — Frederick Moxon. The world exacts exorbitant space rates of advertised Virtue. Womanly Intuition. Mrs. Flatleigh — “The new family upstairs have a lot of money, but they used to be very poor and ordinary.” Mr. Flatleigh — “How do you know? Have you called on them?” Mrs. Flatleigh — “No ; but there was a half-eaten broiled lobster and a whole Camembert cheese in their garbage can on the dumb waiter this morning.”. A Soft Answer. He (triumphantly, reading from a newspaper) — “‘Suffra- gist speaker heckled by geese at a county fair.’ Ha, ha! Even the geese are against woman suf- rage, my dear!” She (contemptuously) — “That’s because they are THE WHOLE WORLD TO THEMSELVES. geese.” A Leap-year Man to His Father. Coteswold-in-the-Hills. F'VEAR FATHER— When you pawned the last piece of the family plate in order that I might be suitably ap- pareled for the Van Dyrck’s house party, I realized that something must be done. I did it. Last night, in a dim-lit corner of the conservatory, Senatoress Bardick laid her name and fortune at my feet. The sudden relaxation was too much for my overwrought nerves; I cried a little, and she took me in her arms and kissed the tears away, believing that I wept with happiness. Though the Senatoress — Betty sounds too familiar — is more than twice my age, she is hale and hearty and very distinguished in appearance. Also she is brainy, chivalrous, and has a reputation for clean-liv- ing almost as good as that which she would demand of the man she married. Ru- mor says that she was per- fectly lovely to her first husband — that he never had a wish ungratified. At love-making, the younger women are miles behind her. Gallant, solicitous of my comfort, exquisitely tender in her expressions of sentiment, she gauges my moods so accurately that she is never too ar- dent, nor yet too cold. I should not be surprised if I fell in love with her. While we have not set- tled everything yet, the Senatoress has promised that I shall not have any domestic or paternal cares. We are to live at the Scal- dorf-Wastorious, and travel as much as her official duties will permit. She is to settle a million dollars upon me, and I am to retain my latch-key and as much liberty as the conventions sanc- tion. She solemnly promises not to be jealous, as old wives usually are of their young husbands. I’m sure she will be good and kind to me, and I shall make her a dutiful hus- band. So we ought to be happy. Good-night, dad. You can have sweeter dreams, now that my future is assured. Your affectionate son, Percy. Caught It. One evening last week, when I called on Babette, I found her with whooping cough badly upset. She said, “It’s unpleasant, now, take it from me!” I did — and I’m whooping this morning, you see. A Good Reason. Jab — “Why do they call this brand of buttons ‘Old Maid’s Wedding’?” Dab — “Because they never come off.” Another Line of Business. “For years and years I wrote poetry,” remarked the affluent-looking stranger. “I wrote it until I was forced by cold and hunger to take up a commercial line.” “What was that?” “Writing verses.” Careless. He thought his little gift would please. It only made her sore — He hadn’t taken off this tag, “From five and ten cent store.” Presenting the Pessimist. By CHARLES C. JONES. The pessimist is a serious sort of person. He attends all funerals in spir- it — even as the little old woman in the black bonnet and shawl attends them in person. He proclaims to anybody who will listen that the coroner has sat upon hope, and that hope is deader than Pokeville on Sunday afternoon. Yet, in the gloomy shadow of the belief that there is no more hope, he hopes for the worst. He is the acme of inconsistency. If any pessimist ever managed to get by Saint Peter — who was himself a pessimistof parts upon one occasion, but refuses to crow over it — he would kick because the light from his halo hurt his eyes. It is also probable that many pessimists complain of too much light in the other port of missing men. The pessimist is sure that love is a delusion and bitter to the taste. He is just as sure that there is no such thing as love; yet he is, and has always been, in love— with himself. There never was a sin- cere, consistent pessimist; because, if any pessimist be sincere enough to be consistent, he discovers im- mediately that he cannot be a proper pessimist with- out being optimistic about the possibilities of pessim- ism. When this happens, the pessimist ties his face in a hard knot and looks over his shoulder to see if anybody caught him at it. In other words, a pessim- ist is an optimist who is afraid to laugh at himself. Watered Stock. “Yes, I was once a member of a stock company that was put out of business in rather a curious way.” “How did it happen?” “We had put on a tank drama, and one night the tank burst, nearly drown- ing everybody on the stage.” “Another case of too much watering of the stock, eh?” It is rumored that the little German babies call for their “mudder” and “fodder” at the same time. HOPE SPRINGS ETERNAL. Flora — “ I am positive George loves me and intends to make me his wife.” Dora—" Why ? Has he proposed yet ?” Flora — “No; but he dislikes mother more every time he sees her.” MADE AN ENEMY. Bachelor — “ There goes the Rev. Hitchem ; know him ?” Benedict — '* Not since he married me to my present wife. 1 ' A Dramatic Critic’s Confession. Looking on the Bright Side. I’M A CRITIC of the drama. I The absorbing panorama On the stage enacted nightly do I wit- ness sans expense. Sometimes sadly, sometimes gayly, I review them in my daily. It is mine to make or break them — I’m a man of consequence. If I’ve had a royal dinner, I am apt to dub a winner The show that I attend that night, no matter what it’s worth; But if pained with indigestion, There is very little question But what my criticism will of mercy show a dearth. I’m a man of moods a-plenty, I possess eighteen or twenty, And so I’m not responsible for many things I say; But my catchy style of writing Is satirical and biting, And people like to read my stuff, though brickbat or bouquet. So I boost ’em and I roast ’em, And the public — well, I post ’em. Each word I say they swallow, and ac- cordingly they act. Managerial ensemble Do I cause to fear and tremble (And sometimes they approach me with diplomacy and tact). But I’m mostly on the level. And in raising hob I revel ; I love to crowd the theaters, or empty them, at will. And I’ll make this revelation — It’s my own great reputation That is first to be considered. And my conscience? It is nil. — Knarf Rtmlaf. NO DESSERT. Guest — “ When was this chicken killed ?" Waiter — “ We don’t furnish dates with chickens, sir. Only bread and butter." “George," she cried, putting her arms around his neck and sobbing upon his breast, “something awful has hap- pened !’’ “There, dear, don’t worry!” he re- plied, patting her tenderly on the cheek. “What is the trouble?” “The judge has decided that my former husband is to have possession of the chil- dren.” “Never mind, dearie. Think cf the joke it will be on his wife!” There ’s a Reason. Coy — “How few people attended the funeral of Dr. Pillman!” Roy — “Well, they do say that most of his patients went before him.” A Table d’Hote Dinner. Now, one fine day, young Tommy A. Took Mamie R. to dine. Each appetite was keen, oh, quite ! And everything was fine. Tom still ate steak when May had reached Her demi-tasse cup. Now, say, how long d’you think it took For Tomatoketchup? — cr«, BLIND TO THE WORLD. A moment’s respite from the pressure of business. Keeping People Guessing. AM not a candidate. ” “But, colonel,” I protested, “I don’t give a rap whether you are a can- didate or not; I want to know whether you will be one. ” “Great Scott!” he retorted, with evi- dent displeasure. “Haven’t I told you plainly that I am not a candidate?” One Better. Nip — “Bones is speaker of the house, and only thirty !” Tuck — “That’s nothing ! My wife be- came speaker of the house as soon as I married her, and she was only twenty- two.” Debutante (being introduced) — “Par- don me! Is it Miss or Mrs. de Long?” Old maid — “Miss — by choice.” Pastoral Limericks. A maiden yclept Adelaide To climb up a peach tree essayed; I chanced to be there, And I really declare That a very good showing she made. Another one, known as Hortense, Attempted to sca]e a high fence. I was passing that way. And I really must say She displayed very poor common sense. A A lady’s red skirt was turned toward A bull who terrific’ly roared; I saw it, did I, And remarked with a sigh, “That skirt will be beautifully gored!” A A lady, decidedly fat, In a hammock contentedly sat. I was motoring by, And this comment made 1, “There is really quite something in that!” -c.g.g. He Got a Job. Editor — “You seem to think that, be- cause you were the champion hammer- thrower at college, you could fit into a magazine office. Why not try a black- smith shop?” Applicant — “I thought you might need me to help throw the poets down- stairs. ” Fountain of Youth. Lovely woman is resourceful ; When she finds she’s badly mated, She hastens to Nevada, Comes back happy, Keno-vated. Impractical. Coombs — “He is a very ingenious in- ventor.” A allins — “But exceedingly imprac- tical. His last creation is an automatic safety attachment for an electric chair. ” LEAP! \ R . STAGE CHRISTINE NIELSEN. in '* The Wedding Trip/* Merry maid of many wiles. We like your ways, we like your smiles. This trip, of which we 'vc heard so much. Has surely gotten you in " Dutch.” FOLKS WE ADMIRE LILLIAN LORRAINE. (With Eddie Foy, in “ Over the River.”) I.illic. a source of unending delight. Bewitching of figure, as spry as a sprite *Twixt you and your charge there *s no difference at all. For you arc yourself a most beautiful doll. SALI.IE FISHER. in ** Modest Suzanne ” A winner arc vou, modest Saltic, With checks like the rose of the val- ley ; , In the matter of fun You ’re a hit and a run. In fact, a home run and a tally. ANN MURDOCK. in “ Excuse Me." No need to ask ” How old is Ann ?” Your youth doth quite enthuse me. That coal-black hair and profile rare Fill me with —oh, excuse me 1 IN PURSUIT OF HAPPINESS. I ’VE taken my lore where I’ve found it; I’ve read an’ I’ve ranged in my time ; I’ve ’ad my pickin’ o’ poets, An’ four o’ the lot was prime. One was in Sufi apparel, One was a club-footed Beau, One was a parson named Carroll, An’ one is a man I know. Now, I aren’t no ’and with the poets, For, takin’ it all along, You can’t write like them till you’ve tried it, An’ then you are like to be wrong. There’s times when you’ll think you’re a genius, There’s times when you’ll know as you’re not; But the things you can lift as their pages you sift Will ’elp you along quite a lot! I was a young ’un at writin’, Shy as a kid to begin; A poet named Flynx got me goin’, An’ Flynxy was clever as sin. Then I fell in with R. Browning — Some of ’is meanin’s was dim — But ’e came up to time with ’is rhythm an’ rhyme, An’ I learned about writin’ from ’im. Then I run up against Shakespeare — 'E wrote quite jolly, I thought; They called ’im a bard, an’ I studied ’im ’ard, Till some tricks of ’is trade I had caught. Kipling was also some useful, An’ Pope, though ’is poems was prim; But the way was more clear when I piped Edward Lear, An’ I learned about writin’ from ’im. Then, next, I grew sort o’ romantic — Yearned ’long o’ Shelley an’ Keats; Jes’ fairly wallowed in Swinburne — Reeled off the drivel in sheets. The Poets. (With compliments to Mr. Kipling.) By CAROLYN IVBLLS. Come ’long a feller named Dobson — He knew how to tinker an’ trim! An’ another man came — we won’t mind ’is name — But I learned about writin’ from ’im. I’ve taken my lines where I’ve found ’em, I’ve ravaged my favorite shelf; But the more you ’ave loved of the others, The less you will care for yourself. UNDER DURESS. He — “ I often kissed you when you were a baby." She “ Well, I couldn’t help myself then." An’ the end of it’s sittin’ an’ scribblin' An’ dreamin’ of great things to be; So be warned by my lot (which I know you will not), An’ learn about writin’ from me. What did the editor gentleman think? Nobody never knew. Somebody asked the office girl, An’ she told ’em true. When you get to a pome in the case, They’re like as a row o’ pins — For Mr. John Milton an’ a spring poet liltin’ Are brothers under their skins. Back to Childhood, Nit! A member of Congress from Ohio — nameless here by request — was com- plaining about his health. “What’s the matter?” inquired a friend. “Oh, I don’t know. I’m nervous, I guess, and I have the worst kind of time getting to sleep when I go to bed.” “Why don’t you try the childhood method of counting sheep as they jump the fence? That will put you to sleep,, all right.” “I’ve tried it, and it won’t work.” “Why not?” “Well, you see, just as soon as I be- gin to count the sheep I get to thinking about Schedule K, and then sleep is out of the question. Give me an easier one. ” About. “What did Gabbley talk about, at the banquet last night?” “It seemed about three hours.” C. G. NOSTERRAG, Chief of Detectives. [Since the institution of this department, we have been overrun with requests to undertake the solution of public and private mysteries. We must draw the line somewhere, so would state that we shall not restore lost husbands, find mates for spinsters, or attempt to point out those guilty of bringing about the high cost of living. We shall here- after confine ourselves to laying bare the secrets of the cap- tains of industry, politics, literature, and scandal, and feel sure that if we do this thoroughly the entire time of our able corps will be utilized.] CASE No. $100,000,000 — Not a member of the Socialist party. Commenced life without a cent in his pocket, April 7th, 1837. Soon had to have ac- cord io n-pleated extensions built in all his trousers. Was never known to make any mon- ey, as he preferred to let others make it for him. Has always suffered from the disease of reorganization- itis, having reor- ganized every- thing from Sunday schools to a b i 1 - lion-dollar steel corporation. Can ride for nothing on fifty thousand miles of railroads and fifty-seven different varieties of steamship lines. The only work he has ever done has been in the iine of collecting furniture, pictures, books, rugs, and other sec- ond-hand chattels. Much of this merchandise he has stored in the American Museum of Natural History, Metropolitan Museum, and other fireproof buildings. He could sell these things in any good second-hand store or pawnshop, but does not seem to need the money. Some time ago he built a large hospital in New York, but, finding that he had no personal use for it, he presented it to the public. He saved up during an entire year and bought a yacht, with which he won a spa- cious cup, an ornamental receptacle that is convenient in any household. This serv- ice has shadowed him for some time and found him sober, honest and a very pres- ent help to his country in time of trouble. CASE No. 71265 — Nationality, Scotch. Occupation, steel and philan- thropy. Hobbies, golf, libraries, peace, and repartee. Why Judge’s bureau should have been employed to shadow this case is a mystery. He has never had his picture in the rogue’s gallery, nor has he been apprehended in any crime more serious than occasional assaults on the risibilities of grand jury investigators. His ambition to die poor may be looked upon as a species of insanity, but it is of a harmless type. By working evenings this busy man has succeeded in writing a number of books, and, contrary to precedent, he had no trouble in finding a publisher for the first one. These books may be found on the shelves of nearly all our public libraries, and feather dusters or vacuum cleaners will be furnished by the attendants. His attempts to ruin the gun- powder industry are looked upon with disfavor by the manufacturers of that commodi- ty, and they may have been the source of the order for this investiga- tion, as it was re- ceived anony- mously. CASE No. 8654 — This man first began to make trouble in Prim- rose, Wis., in 1855. During the first year of his life he yelled and found fault con- stantly, and he has been at it continually ever since. He was found guilty of having a father named Josiah, but it was proved later that this crime was unpremeditated. He dis- liked hard work, so took up law. Later he fell still lower and became a politician. Having taken a course in manual training when a youth, he made himself useful by helping to frame the McKinley bill. He did a very artistic job and obtained special mention in his home paper. Later he was sentenced to the capitol of Wisconsin, where he served a term of seven years, being released in 1905 for good behavior, and at once broke into the Senate at Washington. The Senate took his little joke good-na- turedly and taught him to do clever tricks for their amusement. In 1908 he had a narrow escape from being nomina- ted for President. This experience af- fected him strangely, causing him to commit his most serious offense, that of giving public concerts with the aid of his own horn. This agency is attempt- ing to have him placed under bonds to keep the peace. LITTLE GEORGE WASHINGTON AS HE REALLY WAS. JUDGE’S Detective Bureau has made a startling discovery. This picture was stolen early in the eighteenth century from a famous gallery in Philadelphia, showing that the art of taking pictures from galleries was perfected at that early date. It has recently been restored by the eminent sleuth, M. Emil Flohri, at great trouble and expense. The portrait proves conclusively the truth of the cherry-tree episode, and vindicates the authors of the ten thousand cherry- tree and hatchet jokes that have appeared in JuDCE during the last quarter century. LESSONS IN FIG. II. FIG. IV. UNNATURAL HISTORY. The Monkey. '"T'HE MONKEY is a comical-looking specimen of an ani- A mal, although probably a monkey doesn’t look any more foolish to us than we do to a monkey. (See Fig. I.) A real monkey is born, not made; but sometimes we see a woman make a monkey out of a man. It is a matter of pride with the monkey family that the human race is supposed to have descended from it — a proof that the mon- key is on a higher plane than the man. Monkeys can do nearly everything a man can, but most of them have better sense than to try. (See Fig. II.) They are philanthropic creatures and have been known to raise large sums of money in the interest of Italian music. They seem to have a great sympathy for that class of travelers whose life is a constant grind, and are often bound to them by strong ties. (See Fig. III.) Every child ought to know that a monkey is an anthropoidian, quadrumanous mammal, and that the Old World monkeys, either simids or cercopithecids, are catai - - rhine. If you remember this, you will be able to distin- guish between the different brands of monkeys at a glance. A female monkey chatters twice as fast as a male. (See Fig. IV.) This is said by some to be one of the chief proofs of the soundness of the Darwinian theory. MonkeyS are fond of nuts and will bolt them down eagerly. For this reason, perhaps, the useful device called the monkey wrench was named after them. (See Fig. V.) Monkeys are some- times entertained by fashionable people at dinners, where they may be distinguished from the other guests by the fact that they do not make foolish remarks. (See Fig. VI.) Knowing these things about monkeys, children, you will be able to pick them out from among the other animals at the zoo, provided the keepers will allow you to do so. (See Fig. VII.) — Carleton G. Garretsou. i uS vT(l H'v a 'it FIG. V. FIG. III. FIG. VI. FIG. VII. Father s Definition. t<\ TOW that you have seen the error of * ' your ways, ” said the young man’s father, “I hope that you will decide upon a new course.” ‘‘Oh, yes, I’ve made up my mind to do that.” ‘‘Well, what do you propose to do first?” ‘‘I thought I might make a good be- ginning by getting you to let me have about a hundred dollars.” ‘‘That isn’t a beginning. It’s the limit. ” Heredity. ‘‘I knew her father when he used to go about with his trousers held up by one suspender.” ‘‘She must take after him, then.” ‘‘Why so?” ‘‘At the opera, last night, she wore a gown that was held up by one strap, over her left shoulder.” A Bi THE CHERRY. 'T'HE CHERRY is a very decent little fruit, said to have evolutea from the prune— something that it was per- fectly justified in doing. A Roman named Lucullus discovered the cherry when it was not doing very well, and introduced it into Europe, where it im- mediately bucked up and became re- spectable. One branch of the cherry family insists on being wild and has a penchant (pronounced pawn chaw) for Manhattan cocktails. You can sober up a Manhattan cherry by hanging it in the sun and letting it dry for a few weeks. After this treatment it should be fed to the chickens, as the children will not care for it. Those who contemplate propagating cherries in window boxes should choose a deep, light, loarny soil and a southern exposure. After the tree has been planted for a year, cut hack each branch to about one foot in length. Encourage surface rootings by top dressings, preferably French or mayonnaise. If the cherries prove to be choke cherries, you should drive the tree back into the window box with a large wooden mallet and speak harshly to the florist who sold you the bulbs. Never attack your cherry tree with a hatchet, as this act would result in your being accused of plagiarism. When the tree gets one hundred feet high, it should be Qualified. ‘‘The man I marry,!’ she said, making no effort to conceal the fact that she considered herself a patrician, “must have a family back of him.” “Oh, I can fulfill that requirement all right,” he confidently replied. “I’ve gone away ahead of any of my rela- tives.” New to Him. After he had tried for a moment to get his key inserted in the keyhole, he stepped back and leaned against the side of the vestibule. Then he scratched his head in perplexity and said, “It’sh shtrange! I never knew be- fore that we had one of theshe revolvin’ doorsh here.” “Pretty close figurer?” “I should say so! She tried to get trading stamps with her Red Cross seals.” By CARLETON G. GARRETSON. removed from the window box, as it will obstruct the view of the families up- stairs and perhaps cause them to criti- cise you to the janitor. Candied cher- ries are fashionable confections appre- ciated only by the manufacturers. The cherry is best when perfectly raw. When done up in a pie, both the pie and Tom and Puss. Dorothy was the sister and Freddie was the brother, but the order should have been reversed to have satisfied the characters of the two children, for Dor- othy was a scream, while Freddie was only a whisper. “Gracious, Dorothy!” exclaimed a visitor, after one of her audacious ath- letic stunts. “You ought to be a boy!” “1 am boy,” she replied proudly; “a regular tomboy! Mamma says so. ” “But Freddie is the boy of the fam- ily.” “Well,” she sniffed in scorn, “if he is, he’s only a pussy boy.” — William J. Lampion. The Reason. On Nineteen Eleven we look with regret, For Nineteen Twelve’s but a youngster yet. Every-day Buy Words. “What is it worth?” the cherry are ruined. Maraschino cherries are of foreign extraction and are interchangeable at par with gold nuggets, eggs, and other valuable curi- osities. The class should now be able to tell a cherry, both anywhere and any- thing. Bibliography, any good unex- purgated life of Washington. The following sonnetine may be used with telling effect as a toast in the early stages of a banquet. You have the permission of the author to state that you composed it yourself. In fact, the author dares you to so state. Oh, cherry, in my cocktail deep im- mersed, I’d hate to be as pickled as thou art! I fear my power of speaking would depart And I’d appear, forsooth, quite at my worst. But, cherry, as I look at thee, I think How thou hast done a kindly turn to me- — - Thou takest space that otherwise would be Booze-filled, thus tempering my drink. They tell me thou art going out of style. That folks of late prefer their cock- tails dry And cherryless. Let them thus choose, but I Will still prefer thee swimming in my “smile.” Oh, cherry, though thou hast a stony heart, I’m very prone to take thee as thou art. t of Batty Botany. WHEN VELMA READS. When Velma reads the printed page Her thoughts are flying here and there ; For hers, forsooth’s, the flighty age — Her mind is everywhere, When Velma reads of course she thinks. Though little of her open book — She dreams of dances, skating-rinks, Of drive and quiet nook. When Velma reads the thought-waves rise In telepathic symphony. And each wave like a love-bird flies, Through barren space to me. When Velma reads! Oh, fairest boon! Her thoughts with happiness are rife, But she ’ll give up her reading soon. For she’s to be my wife. — C. G. G. LITTLE TRAGEDIES OF EVERYDAY LIFE. Fascination. Solemnization. _ Dissipation. Separation. Mail. Trail. Nail. Jail. Infatuation. Osculation. Consternation. Constellation. The Good Saint s Day. ^^IRCUMSTANCES alter valentines. Sending only the one girl a valen- tine is the best policy. The ways of the anonymous valentine are past finding out. People who have faults of their own shouldn't send valentines. Too many valentines spoil the whole day for us. We are all known by the valentines we receive. No man is a hero to his valentine. It’s a wise valentine that knows its own sender. The jilted man clutches at a valentine. Valentines are sent us to show us what hypocrites we are. The comic valentine covers a multi- tude of sins. A little valentine is a dangerous thing. Send a comic valentine in haste and repent at leisure. Beauty continues to be her own best valentine. We love only once, but we manage to find a new girl to send a valentine to every year. The fool and his valentine are soon mailed. — j. j. o'Connntii. Friend — “Now, as I understand it, you and I, instead of having unequal wealth, ought to have just the same amount. ” Socialist — “Yes — er — that is — how much have you got?” Valentine Vagaries. Even comic valentines sometimes are humorous. Valentines are a first aid to weak- hearted suitors. On Valentine Day we see “oursils as ithers see us.” Men have been hanged for the per- petration of crimes far less offensive than valentine verses. Delivering valentines in the stone age must have been a man’s job. It takes a comic valentine to pierce the armor of dignity. -vam, c. cn„. Credit. Church trustee — “Did you occupy your last pulpit with credit?” New rector — “Entirely. There was never any cash connected with it.” A Future Financier. A VERY nice young man was calling on his sister. To make things easy, he gave him a beautiful new penny, saying, “Save each penny, and soon you will have a dollar.” “I’ll soon have a dollar!” re- plied the boy, with great eager- ness. The young man smiled good-na- turedly, dug into his pocket, say- ing, “Well, just how much more do you need?” “Only ninety-nine cents.” He soon had a dollar. As Times Change. In days gone by, If I remember rightly, We danced like this, And, oh! so lightly! But now, when with a miss, ,0 Reform Needed. Benham — “We need a reform in our banking system.” Mrs. Benham — “Yes; it’s a shame that a wife can’t overdraw her husband’s account !” A Deadly Weapon. The laundry workers in New York have gone on strike. It strikes us that this is a foolish weapon for them to employ, when they have so much more effect- ive and deadly weapons within their grasp. Let us suggest that if, by previous agreement, every citizen of New York found that on a certain morning he had to put on a collar with a saw edge, the laundry owners would find themselves in the hands of an outraged and tortured mob that would fight the workers’ battle for them. Unionism could be so much more powerful if it ex- ercised more intelligence. Of all mean words we’ll ever know, The meanest are, “I told you so.” THE CHOICE. He — “ Yes, I ’m going to apply my talents : but I know whether to go in for art or for poetry.” She — “ Oh, poetry!” He — “ Oh, you 've heard some of my verses ?” She — “ No ; but I 've seen some of your art.” Serious. “I would like to marry your daugh- ter, sir. I realize that this is a serious matter” “You bet it is, my son ! Very serious! You may have her, and the Lord be with you !” Not as Recommended. Uncle Eben — “You can take this old camera back.” Dealer — “What is the matter with it?” Uncle Eben — “It’s a fake. You told me I could take my own pictures with it, and I’ve snapped it over fifty times and it hasn’t got a pic- ture of me yet.” Jimpsy Tales. I.— HURT TIME. When Jimpsy has the colic. Then his soul begins to Quake ! It’s awful for a baby When he has a tummy- Ache ! He howls like forty kittens. And he doubles up his Fists ! He wants to go to mother. And he wiggles and he Twists ! But when the storm is over And - the peppermint is Down, He is just the nicest baby. And the merriest in Town ! Lifelike. Ted — “I'm going to send that old girl of mine a valentine —some- thing that depicts her in her true colors. ” Ned — “From what I’ve seen of her, you’d better get one of those hand-painted ones.” An Ounce of Prevention. Divorce is reprehensible. And so is alimony ; Yet both can be prevented by Avoiding matrimony. don’t The apparel oft proclaims the man- in the very loudest of tones. - THREE ZEROS IN A LINE. (Drawn with a ting 1 * line.) TO A MISER. Fairest queen of myriad hearts. Always taking, ne’er returning. By your many wiles and arts Causing sleepless nights of yearning ; f airest queen of myriad hearts, Held in humble adoration. Causing Cupid with his darts Almost constant occupation ; Fairest queen of myriad hearts. Quite devoid of imperfection, Here s where common sense departs. Pray add mine to your collection. —C G. G. >1 •«»>•*, l DISTORTED VISION. Fred Clubber (after a night out) — “ Now I wonder what the deuce (hie) they put me in for?” As You Like It. A Husbandly Duty. The Suffragettes’ Mother Goose. If vou ever have crone fishing, never & You Wil * know ’tis truth I say won t J When I make this two-edged statement : Big fish alwayS get away .‘ . never ** a weigh. — Louis Schneider. My wife cannot make dishes such as mother used to make. Most horrible concoctions is she daily prone to bake ! And I try to bear it manfully, though tears come to my eyes When I strive to penetrate her rolls and drink her lemon pies. How Did They Do It? Willis — “The old pioneers were won- derful fellows!’’ Gillis — “Yes. Just think of men founding cities without an advertising agent or even a slogan!’’ Diplomatic. “How did you get your wife to forego her desire for that expensive evening gown?” “Told her it was just the thing a plain woman needed.” By ALMA MARTIN. Sing a song of suffragettes, Stockings full of stones; Four and twenty “bobbies” — Struggles, cries, and groans. When the jail is open, The girls begin to sing. Isn’t it a pretty mess For Parliament and King? And then Engagement Wes Broken. Geraldine — “Would you die for me?” Gerald — “Do you intend to be the death of me?” The only thing of great value of which a man was ever possessed without brag- ging about it is— common sense. Before Being Sheared. Every black sheep to-day was once somebody’s pet lamb. Ted — “So she’s very punctual?” Ned — “Why, it’s safe to call for that girl in a taxi !” POLITICAL POSTERS. Judge— “TAKE IT FROM ME, BILL, IT’S A CINCH FOR YOU !” HE IS NOT A CANDIDATE. P/ /) THE KATZENJAMMER KIDS OF POLITICS Will they get together ? THE WHOLE WORLD IS DISCUSSING WAYS AND MEANS TO GET HIM DOWN. OWNER SAW IT FIRST. Noggs — “ That 's a very dilapidated umbrella you have there, old man Hoggs- “ You ’re right it is ; unfortunately my best one was recognized.” PROOF POSITIVE. “ Pardon me, professor, but last night your daughter accepted my proposal of marriage. I have called this morning to ask you if there is any insanity in your family ?” “ There must be.” Flat Life. T HERE was an old wo- man Who lived in a shoe, And that she was crowded Is certainly true. She lived with her children ; f But, even at that, They found it more roomy Than many a flat. — George B. Staff. Domestic Troubles. Husband — “What’s the matter, dear? Why do you look so worried?” Wife — “Oh, I’ve just got everything all ready for Mrs. Meatleigh’s visit. I’ve done up all the curtains and pillowshams and bu- reau covers and center pieces, and they’re all spick and span.” Husband — “Well, if everything is in such ap- ple-pie order, why look so disconsolate about it?” Wife (bursting into tears)— “Oh, I just know, as soon as she sees them, she’ll know I cleaned everything all up because she was coming !” More to the Purpose. Crawford — “I see there is a discussion as to the best place for a woman to keep her money without losing it.” Crabshaw — “What wo- men need to be taught is how to keep their money without spending it.” No Occasion To Sigh. If a body need a “fiver,” Need a body sigh. When a body can obtain it From an easy guy? Almost Perpetual Motion. “Some of these days,” remarked the serious man, “I presume that perpetual motion will be demonstrat- ed.” “Well, if you lived in my flat,” spoke up the practical one, “you would realize that the family up- stairs comes about as close to it as any one can imag- ine.” Gleefully the milk maids dance, ’Tis a pastoral truly, And it is not by simple chance That the calves become unruly. A Misplaced Delight. “There! That is the true way to get inspiration from the sky and the cloud effects !” said the art teach- er, pointing to one of his pupils, who was intently looking upward from an open window. “Grand! Isn’t it?” he whispered, after reaching the boy’s side. “Great!” said the stu- dent, still looking out. “Best spiced pickles I ever smelt! Wonder who’s cook- ing them, anyway.” Rather Large. There was a maid in our town Who was so wide and fat. An umbrella o’er her head Looked like a tiny hat. Same Noise. Mrs. Wayupp — “She is clever?” Mrs. Blase — “Very. She kept her infant three months in the Race Sui- cide Apartments by telling the landlord she owned a grand-opera phonograph.” Shifting the Graft. “How do you like run- ning your restaurant on the no-tipping plan?” “First rate !” replied the proprietor. “It enables me to raise the prices ten per cent, on the bill of fare.” Getting Back at the Men. Mrs . Crabshaw — ‘ ‘ My husband says that women shouldn’t have votes be- cause they wouldn’t un- derstand the tariff.” Mrs. Dorcas — “You just tell him that the men don’t seem to understand i t , either. ” Human Nature. Crawford — “Do you ap- prove of selling vegetables by weight?” Crabshaw — “Yes, if you’d get more that way.” PLAYERS WE MEET ON THE RIALTO. LILLIAN RUSSELL'S LATEST ENGAGEMENT. MAETERLINCK S WIFE'S COLOSSAL COURAGE. GABY DESLYS AS A REVOLUTIONIST. ☆ ☆ "\V7HOEVER saw a photograph of Lil- ” lian Russell — at least of the head and shoulders of that sightly person — that men did not exclaim over or women envy? Who that remembers her debut at Tony Pastor’s a generation or more ago would imagine it is the same woman? Then she was slender, wil- lowy, big-eyed, and voiced for the suc- cess that has followed — thanks in some measure to the camera. Almost coin- cident the other day with her admission that she would be married again in the spring came the confession that she is fifty years old. Marriage may improve some persons upon repetition. At least it brings experience that can be bought in no other market. The spring episode will be Miss Russell’s fourth marital venture — and yet she calls herself Miss, thanks to the easy fashion of the thea- ter. There is no serious suggestion that the stage is to lose her because of the new alliance, and she promises to go on spreading beauty on the public vision and keeping strictly to herself the means by which she has conquered time and is conquering mankind. LILLIAN RUSSELL. She #bll call# heraelf " Mi##,” in #pite of several marital ventures. Who can indicate a greater foil to the modesty of genius than that furnished by Madam Maeterlinck, who has come to personify several of her husband’s creations on the operatic stage here? One remembers that in Paris there were MADAM MAETERLINCK. Who personifies several of her husband's creations on the operatic stage. differences of opinion as between the producers of opera there and this really great author as to his wife’s fitness to originate some of his roles; but perhaps that was all due to lack of managerial judgment, and her advent here may jus- tify Maeterlinck’s artistic notions of his wife’s utility. Surely, when a hand- some woman reaches this shore clad in leopards’ skins and wearing a diamond on her forehead, who shall deny that she is a genius? And there is Gaby Deslys, one of the world’s most potent socialists, whose favor turned a monarchy into a republic, as the story goes. There have been other women whose influence upon kings and potentates has made history and rendered the making of new maps of sections of the earth necessary. Think of the real democracy of this latest im- portation of the kind to this country, shown in the fact that all may see her for a standard price of admission! There is no present danger that Gaby will turn this republic into a monarchy, although she may turn some heads that turn so easily as to suggest rubber con- nection or ball bearings. And she, in print, is telling women how they may be as pretty as she confesses herself to be in every photograph of her yet pro- duced, while there is no cosmetic of real value that has not enlisted her propa- ganda. Talent? Real talent? Why, that doesn’t matter so much these days, when there is so great a variety of other things that appeal on the stage. GABY DESLYS. Whoae favor turned a monarchy into a republic. Old time wheelman — “ Lazy brute !” Christopher Columbus By ELLIS PARKER BUTLER, Author of “ Pigs Is Pigs.” /'■'VN OCTOBER 12th, 1492, Christo- pher Columbus took his large, forceful foot out of his boat and set it on the beach of Guanahani, one of the Bahama Islands, immediately putting the other foot beside it, and thus he be- gan the immigration problem which is still with us, although C. Columbus has passed away. Had he waited but a few short centuries, he could have landed at Ellis Island and had his teeth examined free of charge. Truly, haste makes waste. C. Colon, as his neighbors called him, or Chris, as he was affectionately termed by his crew, died in 1506, thus failing to live long enough to see the banana sold three for five cents and to hear Wagner’s German tidbits played on an Italian hand organ in the Irish quar- ter of the land he discovered. What he would have said had he heard Wagner’s dulcet strains is now only a matter for conjecture. There are some historians who say he would have spread his face in a glad, sweet smile, while others con- tend he would have discovered Alaska before he stopped running. None can tell. The parents of C. Colomb, as he was sometimes called, were woolcombers, which accounts for his long hair. Being combers by profession, his parents did not mind combing it. They combed it every morning, just to get their hands limber for the day’s work. It is said that Chris’s father was something of a joker himself, and that he remarked, when Chris was born, “Wooicomb, little stranger!” but the little stranger would not wooicomb. He is said to have re- marked, ‘‘No, father; I have other plans. Herrman the Great is getting old and there is an opening for a first- class sleight-of-hand man that can do neat parlor tricks with eggs and discover China off the coast of South America. ’* By this it will be seen that Christoval, as he was sometimes called, was hazy in his geography. Indeed, the school map of the world of those days was far from the map as we know it now. Through carelessness or graft, large slices of the world were omitted from the school maps; and when the matter was brought to the attention of the board of educa- tion, and suggestions were made that four or five continents seemed to have broken loose from their moorings and to have floated off, and the board was asked to get a new set of geographies, the only answer they made was, “What is there in it for us?” Nowadays Amer- ica can be found on all good European maps of the world, being retained on THE COST OF (ALMOST) LIVING. Stranger — “ Poor fellow! Why are they taking him off?” Native — ” Taking nothing ! That s a citizen with, his week's groceries being seen home by an armed escort ’’ them as a compliment to the tourists. But little Christophorus, as he was sometimes called, did not have this ad- vantage. He was obliged to set out seeking America when he did not know there was such a place and did not know he was seeking it. That he found it at all under such circumstances shows he was no common person. How many of us who pride ourselves on our wisdom and sagacity far more than Cristofore (as he was sometimes called) ever did are unable to find even a small, brass collar button when we know exactly where it fell! We should think of this. Christophe, as he was sometimes called, was a married man when he dis- covered America, but we have no reason for believing that was why he discovered it. Excellent as his education had been, he had never heard of Reno. And yet, who in Reno has not heard of Columbus? It pays to get your name in the papers. Chris was not, on the whole, what one would call a good, home-loving, family man. He never complained of the food, but soon after he was married he began to stay away from home nights, wander- ing along the coast of Africa with some Portuguese companions or hiking off to Iceland with a stag party. It was “anything to get away from home” with Chris, so far as I can see; and as soon as he heard that China was farther from his peaceful fireside than any other place, he kissed his wife good-night and told her not to wait up for him, and set out for China. That is what he told her he was going to do, anyway ; but he never turned up in China at all. When Mrs. Columbus telephoned there, they answered that they fiad not seen him, but if he dropped in they would tell him he was wanted at home. And the next that was heard of Chris, he was in America. Nobody could place any reliance in him at all. His excuse, when he reached home and his wife let him know she was very well aware he had not gone to China at all, was pretty thin. He had the effrontery to tell her that he had actually started for China and meant to get there, but that, when he was making a straight course for Hongkong, some one pushed two big continents in front of him and he just naturally tripped over them. You may be sure that, the next trip Chris took his wife went with him. “I’ll see about this America!” she said; and, in spite of all his pleadings that it was no place for a lady, she went. “That’s too thin, Chris!” she said. “I want to know why you came home with a photograph of a dark-red brunette in your inside vest pocket. No man I ever heard of ever carried anything in the inside pocket of his vest unless he wished to conceal it. I want to see your Dolly.” Then Chris made the error of his life. “Her name isn’t Dolly,” he said. “It’s Cush-cush-to-wagly-bugh. ” “Very well, Christopher,” said Mrs. Colon, in a cutting tone, as she slammed her bedroom slippers into her suit-case; “all Cush-cush-to-wagly-bughs look alike to me!" Chris was not, perhaps, wholly free from blame, and it is such actions as this that drive women into the suffra- gette fold. As soon as she landed in America, Mrs. Colomb organized the Woman’s Suffrage League of Guanahani. I hate to cast suspicion on Mrs. Colom- bo, but it was soon after Chris had a few sharp words with her that he was toted back to Spain in chains, and Mrs. C. remained in full charge of the gov- ernment. Do not hasten trouble; it arrives on time. “IN DAYS OF OLD.” ' I wouldn’t want to put on them things.” ' Sure, when you ’re fightin mad ye don't care what ye wear. THE LATEST THINGS IN FURS— PERSIAN LAMB. 0 Those Boys — But What Would Home Be Without Them? By J. L. HARBOUR. His Mother Speaks : "YV/dLLIE, will you just look at that clock? You have looked at it? Then why don’t you get ready for bed? You know that you must always be in bed by half-past eight. I don’t care if Ted Thomas does sit up until nine. Half-past eight is your bedtime and — Stop that muttering! You know that I have told you many times not to mutter and — No, you can not sit up to study your home lesson ! Strange that you never think of your home lesson until your bedtime! You will have time to study it in the morning if you get up early. Yes, you will ! No, the clock is not half an hour fast! I had your father set it by his watch this very morning. No, you can’t just finish that story. You have had the whole evening in which to read and study, and you have done nothing but dawdle. Now you are very eager to read and study, aren’t you? I don’t care anything about what other boys do, for — If you do not stop that muttering, I shall call your father! Yes, you will care ! And I want you to wash your hands good before you go to bed. When did you wash them? No, it isn’t only sissy-boys who have clean hands. Willie Smythe, will you just bear in mind that it is your mother to whom you are speaking? Yes, you act as if you knew it! You will have cause to remember it if I call your father. He isn’t your mother, as you very well know. Don’t you be impertinent! That is one thing your mother will not put up with, as I have told you a hun- dred times! Why don’t you take off your shoes? You pick up that necktie! The idea of flinging things around the room like that! That isn’t the place for your jacket ! I’d like to know what the house would look like if I wasn’t particular! Stop jerking so at that shoe lace! I don’t care if it is in a hard knot. Jerking like that will only make the knot harder. Now, I knew that you would break that shoe lace! You would try the patience of — Wil- lie! You pick up that shoe and put it where it belongs at night! No, you cannot have something to eat before you go to bed. The idea of it! After all the supper you had ! What are you taking all of those things out of your pockets for? You put them right back! It would take a good hour to look over all of the things in your pockets. What under the sun, moon, and stars are you carrying around three dirty handkerchiefs for? And you were fussing yesterday because you couldn’t find a clean handker- chief! Now you hustle off to the bathroom and give those hands a good scrub- bing. You wish that you lived in a land where there wasn’t any water? How long do you think that you would live there? You give those hands a good scrubbing! Use plenty of soap. Be sure and wash back of your ears. Use plenty of water. I never saw such a boy as you are, to think that you can get yourself clean with half a teacup full of water. Your towel isn’t on its hook? I am sure that it isn’t if you were the only one who used it last. Look for — And you call yourself washed already? Let me see your hands. Willie Smythe ! The idea of you calling those hands washed ! They will do for to-night, but you have simply got to wash yourself in dead earnest in the morning. 1 shall look after those ears myself then. Now you go to your room and to bed. It is a good three-quarters of an hour after your regular bedtime, and you know that mother always insists on you going to bed at exactly half-past eight, and the sooner you learn that you must mind your mother, the better. I don’t believe that you have been in bed at half-past eight For a month. You can’t find your nightgown? Judg- ing from the rest of the stuff in your pockets, perhaps your nightgown is there. No, you shall not go to bed with- out it. You’ll find it somewhere in the closet in your room. You found it? I knew that you would. I want that mut- Drawn by Clyde Squires. She (at the piano) — “ How do you enjoy this re- frain ?” He — “ Very much. The more you refrain the better I like it.” tering stopped! It’s the tenth time to- night that I have told you to stop mut- tering, and you know that when mother speaks she has to be obeyed ! Good- night, Willie! That’s a pretty way to say good-night to your mother, isn’t it? You most certainly cannot take a book to bed with you for a little while! Burt Deane says he reads in bed every night? That is nothing to me. If his mother wants to let him do anything that foolish, she can; but your mother is not that kind of a woman. Get right into bed and put out that light. Such a time as I have getting you to bed every night, and I’ll have a worse time getting you up in the morning. • Got that light out? You’d better! Stop that whistling! The idea of go- ing to bed and whistling! Good-night, Willie! Dear, dear! these boys! Those Little Things. Puny little high-brows, • Little bigots, too, Only call for patience And a kind skiddoo. Decided. “I’d buy a car if it weren’t for one thing. ” “What is that?” “Having to look out for the other fellow.” “But if you had a car, the other fel- low would have to look out for you, also.” “Gee! I never thought of that! I’ll buy one.” Leap Year. She — “Will you marry me?” He — “You will have to ask father first. ” She — “I did; but he refused me.” The Woman of It. “Why do you spend your days and nights on these pictures?” asks the wife of the struggling artist. “You don’t get enough for them to pay you for the paint you use.” “I know, my dear,” he answers; “but think! Rembrandt and others painted pictures and sold them for trifles, and they are now the master- pieces of the world and bring mil- lions of dollars! I am not painting for us. I am painting for our descend- ants. ” “Humph!” is the discouraging re- ply. “You don’t make enough for us to afford to raise any descendants.” Aftermath. Ever since New Year’s Day we have been in receipt of almost daily com- munications from Santa’s twin brother, William Claus, better known to most of us as plain “Bill.” Model girls seldom serve as such. L’Envoi of the Robbers. By CAROLYN WELLS. W HEN the Louvre’s last picture is lifted and the Luxembourg stat- ues are pinched, When the Oldest Master has vanished and the newest canvas is cinched, We shall rest, and, faith! we shall need it — lie low for a season or two, Till the work of the modern artists shall set us to work anew. Then those that made good shall be happy; they shall start on a fresh career, And purloin a ten-league canvas, with no one at all to fear. They shall find real art to draw from, hung on the same old wall ; They shall take two or three of an even- ing, and never get caught at all. And only Lupin could praise them, and only Sherlock could blame; For pone could be sold for money and none could be shown for fame. But each for the joy of the stealing, and each in his separate car, Speed off with the picture he’s pilfered, in spite of the laws as they are ! An Undesirable Citizen. In the dusky twilight His Majesty sat at his front door fanning himself when a stranger approached as though in a hurry. “Can I get accomoda- tions here?” he inquired briskly Satan peered at the visitor for a moment. “Aren’t you Colonel Roosevelt?” he inquired. “Of Course.” “Well, you can’t be acommodated here,” exclaimed His Satanic Nibs, jumping up and slamming the door. “I’ve got things running in fairly good shape, considering the crowd on hand, but if you got in you’d be introducing some new order or other, and I’d never have another minute’s peace again. Beat it, Colonel.” And Satan waved his hand outward towards the Eternal Elsewhere. What ’s in the Name ? J is for joyous, as every one knows; U is for useful in fighting off woes; D is for dash — meaning brilliance and wit; G is for ginger, for greatness and grit; E means that everywhere Judge is a hit. Metallurgical. Doctor (after examination) — “Madam, you have a constitution of iron.” Obese patient — “I have often won- dered what made me so heavy.” Heard in a Carpenter Shop. By VANCE C. CRISS. “It is ‘plane’ that I love you,” he began. “Is that on the ‘level’?” she asked. “Haven’t I always been on the ‘square’ with you?” he urged. “But you have so many ‘vises,’ ” she remonstrated. “Not a ‘bit’ of it,” he asserted. “What made you ‘brace’ up?” she queried coquettishly. “The fact that I ‘saw’ you,” he re- plied, with a bow. “I ought to ‘hammer’ you for that,” she answered saucily. “Come and sit by me on the ‘bench,’ ” he urged. “Suppose the others should ‘file’ in,” she demurred. “Let me ‘clamp’ you to my heart,” he pleaded. “You shouldn’t let your arms ‘com- pass’ me,” she repiled. “I know a preacher who’s a good ‘joiner,’ ” he suggested. “Promise not to ‘chisel’ him out of his fee,” she requested. “That wouldn’t ‘augur’ well for us, ” he answered. “Shall I wear my ‘blue print’?” she asked, as they started for the license. A GAMBOL FOR HIGH STEAKS. Announcement of the New Woman’s College. Prepared, for the Principal by WILLIAM SANFORD. "THE New College for Women; Mrs. A Husbandketcher, principal. An- nouncement of courses: Freshman Year- How to cook eggs — boiled, fried, dropped, scrambled, etc. How to cook potatoes and other vegeta- bles. The art of repairing trousers and sewing on buttons. Goods to work on, in various stages of neglect, will be provided. How to stew prunes. The gentle movements of sweeping, as prac- ticed with efficient results. How to wash the elusive dish Sophomore Year — Breadmaking. A scientific study of this art will be sup- plemented with a thorough course in biscuit, roll, muffin, pie, cake, and other pastry manufactures. The mak- ing of tea and coffee. The elementary stages of sock darning. How to cook beefsteak. Soup — a science. Junior Year — How to roast a fowl, beef, mutton, veal, etc., and to serve in an appetizing manner. Further study in bread, tea, and coffee mak- ing. Reading of extracts from the diaries of hus- bands, showing effect of good bread, tea, and coffee on the mind, as com- pared with poorly made compositions. Vivid comparisons. How to darn me- dium-sized holes in socks. Little thoughts about chops. Effect of wrap- pers on a husband’s mind. The baby — a few remarks. Senior Year — How to prepare three good meals a day, with plenty of variety. Perfection in bread, tea, and coffee making. Extracts from the diaries of husbands, showing effect on the mind of three good meals a day, as compared with those poorly prepared. Vivid com- parisons. Twenty-seven different ways to serve onions, with similar detail on other foodstuffs. How to rebuild entire sock heels. Scientific lectures on baby, with models to work over. Mrs. Husbandketcher personally guar- antees that twice as many male eligibles will attend the first graduation as there are graduates. In order to avoid a stampede for wives, the eligibles will be bound to chairs and may be exam- ined before selections are made. Grad- uates with the best marks for the entire course will be allowed first selections, and so on down the list. Clergymen will be on hand in case any graduates wish to wed at once. Mrs. Husbandketcher personally guar- antees that eligibles will be docile in every way. Thousands of bachelors are now notifying the principal that they will remain single until the first gradua- tion, provided they may be allowed to attend and run a chance of being se- lected. It is expected that fully a hun- dred thousand names will be received before the awarding of initial diplomas. Mrs. Husbandketcher assures intending pupils that only the cream of the coun- try’s eligible bachelors will be favored with invitations to be present. The New College will render leap year unnecessary. Irony of Fate. It is rather paradoxical to read of a number of per- sons having been killed in a life-insurance building. oftmEi iicoiirffOiiiEk/ The Language of Flowers. By CAROLYN WELLS. V/OUNG MEN who are timid or bash- A ful may often express their senti- ments toward a lady by sending her a bouquet. To such we gladly give the appended information as to the meaning of the various blossoms, for nothing is more disastrous than to convey a wrong message by means of ill-selected posies. Apple blossoms indicate that the lady is the apple of your eye. Peach blos- soms signify that you consider her a peach, while daisies imply that you think her one of them. A rubber plant carries the pleasant message, “I like to look at you”; while tulips subtly murmur, “May I kiss you?” Stock means, “I have taken a flyer in Wall Street”; while a bunch of orchids, tied with violet velvet ribbon, declares, “I am in debt.” To be sure, one does not always wish to send affectionate mes- sages, and the reverse sort may be discreetly expressed in the language of flowers. Wall flow- ers signify that in your opinion the lady is not popular. Fox- gloves are merely a synonym for the old fashion, “mitten” ; while, if you wish to break off entirely with the lady (and doubtless she will consider herself well rid of you), send her a spray of lemon verbena. Household Talk. Husband — “A fool and his money are soon parted.” Wife — “I haven’t noticed any of the fool about you for some time. ” If and But make a poor pair to draw to. Habitual Training. In old China they’re building a Y. M. C. A., To teach all the athletic tricks; Successful they’ll be at swinging the clubs, If we judge by their use of chop sticks. Poor Married Man. “The time will come,” thundered the suffragette orator, “when woman will get a man’s wages!” “Yes,” sadly muttered a man on the rear seat; “next Saturday night. ” With Them, but Not of Them. “Why is Jones so smiling?” “His wife has joined the Society for the Suppression of Unnecessary Noise, and he thinks now she will have to shut up for a while.” Children vs. Dogs. Apartment houses which do not admit young children are becoming more and more numerous, while those advertising that dogs will be welcomed with open arms are constantly increasing in num- ber. The railroad company that refused to transport children would soon find itself in hot water. The landlord who discriminates in the matter of the age of his tenants should be dealt with by legal injunction and forced to remove his unfair restrictions. Until there is a change in the present biological scheme of things, there must be children before there can be landlords and nerv- ous tenants, and that they must suffer and cause their parents to suffer the indignities of disbarment simply be- cause they exist and are so unfortunate as to be young seems a travesty on modern civilization. Not Up-to-date. The Queen of Hearts was mak- ing the tarts. “Hold on!” we cried. “Have you got a sanitary bakeshop?” Sundries. Don’t think a girl will coo like a dove just because she is pigeon- toed. Optimism isn’t just grinning, but this is where most of us “get off. ” “This is a dog’s life,” yawned the vivisectionist, as he rolled up his sleeves preparatory to the slaughter. Money may talk, but it is usually a bit ungrammatical. A ring on the hand is worth two at the door. That will be about all now. NOT INSPIRED. He — “ Have you read my latest poems ? They were inspired by you.” She — “Oh, Mr Scribbler, I don't think it’s fair to put the blame on me.” Go Somewhere! By ELLIS 0. JONES. /^* O WEST, young man of New York! Go East ! Go South ! Go North ! Go somewhere ! Go anywhere and stay as long as possible. Forget that there is such a place as New York. You are ill. You are troubled with megalometropoli- tanism. You need a corrective. You need to find that New York, while the center of much, is the circumference of nothing. You are a slave of the New York idea. New York should be kept in its place. There is only one way to get along in New York, and that is to keep it under your thumb, to drive it with blinders and a curb-bit. Go away somewhere, far enough so that you can stand off and get a good look at it — a bird’s-eye view. You are sure to be benefited. After you have convalesced, you may come back, if you still have the desire; but do not be in a hurry. Nowadays. Drummei — “See here! I want an in- vestigation at once ! Some one went through my grip, ransacked my books, d turned my clothes inside out last nignt. It’s a plain case of robbery!” Hotel clerk — “Robbery nothing! The boys just wanted to find out if you had a membership card in the Anti-Tipping League.” Some Nevers. Never hustle for a job if you are not willing to hustle after you get it. Never listen to gossip. When in the company of gossips, do all the talking yourself. Never laugh at your own jokes, no matter how funny they are, nor fail to laugh at the jokes of your friends, no matter how dry they are. Gambling Ethics. The two gentlemen were in a New York street car — surface, elevated, or subway is no matter. Every seat was full, those at the rear of the car being occupied by well-dressed men. Pres- ently the car stopped and a woman came on board — very nice-looking woman, but not a fashion plate. “I’ll bet you what you like,” said one gentleman, “that not a man of them offers her his place.” “My dear sir.” responded the other, “don’t you know enough about the ethics of gambling to know that you have no right to bet on a certainty?” Saving the Town. Visitor — “Was the Christmas mail heavy?” Rural postmaster — “Haven’t got it all out yet. I tell you, this town owes its lives to me. About the first of December, almost all the letters that come in here were covered with funny- looking stamps. I got kind of suspi- cious, and it certainly puzzled me till a New York drummer put me wise, tell- ing me they was tuberculosis stamps. Of course I knew that stuff was darned bad, so I just ups and confiscates the mail as fast as it came in. I’ve got it all out in the back room fumigating now. Pretty narrow squeeze, but I nipped the epidemic right in the bud.” Items of the Future. John Williams, a well-known mer- chant, returned to-day from a hunt in the Maine woods. He was not shot at once for a deer. William Digg, the famous millionaire, who has made such a fortune in certified soap, is now receiving bids for having his ancestors traced back. Again Those Little Things. By ROSCOE GILMORE STOTT. Little jabs from Teddy, Bobbie’s bursts of will, Although rather smarty, Never bother Bill. Little spats in Europe, Little warfares, too, Give our daily papers, through the me- dium of magic editorials, elongated dispatches, half-tones, maps, biog- raphies, suggestions, and weighty judgments, Something nice to do. Not Found. “First thing you do,” says the em- ployer to the new young man who has been engaged as a city salesman, “you go into the back office and take that desk the other man used, and see if you can get some order out of chaos.” An hour later the enthusiastic young man appears and diffidently reports, “Mr. Kimphlet, I am sorry, but I have looked all through the card index and the telephone directory, and I can’t find the address of Mr. Chaos, to solicit that order from him.” A Ready Reckoner. “My dear, how often do you leave off smoking?” “Well, fully as often as I start in again.” u wrrr«^5 A WRECKED ANGULAR FIGURE. t*Ei! WiTT«rS RETURNING WITH THE CHANGE. FINE DAY?” RATHER FRESH I” THE VEIL. The veil some wear in coquetry, To hide the eyes — and yet they see; To shroud the face as in a mist. Yet showing lips that should be kissed. But this fair one, tis plain to see, Is now, or very soon will be A bride, whose veil cannot disguise The happy meaning in her eyes. WINS TENNIS TOURNAMENT. IS EXPERT WITH THE GLOVES. SWIMS TWENTY MILES A DEMON AT BASKET BALL. ONE TYPE OF T KNOCKS A HOME RUN EVERY TIME AT BAT. WINS CROSS COUNTRY RUN. MODERN GIRL THE MODERN CHASE. The mythic maid who love's chase lost For golden apples on the way, And wed her victor as the cost, Was not like maidens of to-day. The fair ones now full willing are When men of matrimony sing ; And each will run both fast and far, And seize with joy the wedding-ring. T H E TOSS OF THE COIN. "Heads, Noo York; tails, Philadelphy. Tails! I lose ’’ Her permanence seems never to have been questioned, if we are to judge from that recurrent phrase, ‘‘the eternal feminine.” You, I know, on the con- trary, are burning to learn why such a strange creature ever existed. Mes- sieurs, it is here that I come to the most difficult part of my address. How shall I convey to you the ultimate conclusion of my research? I confess to a certain gene at the mention of a fact which, even at this distant period, is so humil- iating to man. Incredible as it may sound, ‘‘woman” seems to have fulfilled a reproductive function. There was a time when man was born of woman ! Fortunately for our ancestral self- respect, the exact process will be forever veiled in the deepest obscurity. As far as we shall ever know, this was woman’s only function. Her whole existence was shaped to this one end, and her lot, if in fancy we ascribe to her any sensibility, could not have been a happy one. But in all proba- bility she was merely an automaton. We must conceive her as such, and those shallow and (I denounce them by a new word) effeminate charlatans who seek to class ‘‘woman” as human can, in the light of my researches, only be derided. Woman was a clumsy and incomprehens- ible device of blind and groping nature to effect what we now accomplish by the divine power of reproductive thought. Your joy at the disappearance of such a blot upon our history leaves you still, I hope, with some curiosity to know how Kind old gentleman — “ Won't you come and sit on my lap, little girl?” Little Miss JQI2 — " Sir ! how dare you suggest such a thing when we met only five minutes ago.” this was brought about. It seems that, at the beginning of the twentieth cen- tury, the majority of women, who doubt- less were often a prey to that eternal warfare to which the universal harmony subjects the grotesque and the mon- strous, had grown neglectful of their function and, as it were, completely de- ranged. They gathered together in dangerous hordes and began to assail the assemblies of men and infested all public places. Strange manifestoes were issued and incoherent cries aped the sonorous battle hymns of men. Would that some of these had been pre- served to us ! They would have given us an insight into the mental develop- ment of this eccentric species. One perfect ex- ample, indeed, has sur- vived, apparently jotted down by a puzzled man of those times. It reads, for none can understand it, ‘‘Conversation without Representation is Tyran- ny” — a cryptic utterance Extract from a woman’ s emancipation article : “ Women, being while men, being human, are expected to differ one from a sex, are expected to conform to a type, another." PERHAPS. that has remained the enigma of the sa- vants of all ages. The whole movement was evidently a complete organic de- rangement, probably foreshadow- ing the inevitable disintegration of a hybrid on its devolutional descent. Also it was a time of sorrow and vexation for our fore- fathers. Witness this ancient newspaper clipping, which com- plains, with a bitterness that is all eloquence: ‘‘Alas, our woeful fate ! For whereas formerly man could get on without woman, he now finds that he cannot get along with her. Wherefore our towns have neither a mayor nor a may- oress. ” Thus was the twilight of man. Yet out of the very shadow of the skirt was born our bright era. For it was in the year 1920 that the great Manfred took out his first patent for the manufacture of the Vitallic-Auto-Biogenetic- Man and published his formulas. When we consider, messieurs, in what scientific darkness, with what crude resources, Manfred labored, we cannot but accord him the laurel highest genius. The ingenious master went to work with the ma- terials to hand. He took the foam of the life-giving sea and mixed it with the yolk of the oldest egg he could find. Then, by means of hypnosis, which was then not yet generally known to be part of the life force, Manfred invoked the manliness of dead and ancient he- roes of the past into his pot, and, heating the concoction with all the wasted warmth of affection which had gone astray in the world since men and women were, he allowed it to simmer. Soon the homunculus appeared and, fed by electrolized ozone, assumed per- manent life. Manfred had in- vented the birth machine. Such, as you all know, is the origin of our life. Manfred accomplished with infinite patience what to-day we perform by the simple process of concentrating SAD, BUT TRUE. Fair traveler (to Italian army officer) — “ Captain, are not the Italian soldiers inveterate cigarette smokers ?” Cavalry captain — “ Why, yes— er — that is, here in Tripoli we cannot get enough ‘ Turkish Trophies.' ” generic thought upon the universal bio- plasm. of Let me complete for you the brief and fateful history of woman. Some newly discovered fragments of documentary evidence enable me to present you with an accurate history of what took place. Manfred’s discovery brought a sharp and sudden reali- zation to the embattled women. They saw, too late, that the very reason of their being, their sole excuse for existence, had been de- stroyed. Knowing only too well that they had forfeited whatever accidental favor they may have found in the eyes of majestical man, they foresaw that their case was indeed desperate. With one piercing wail of despair, they gathered into a frenzied host and hurled themselves upon Manfred’s laboratories. In those days, I re- gret to say, women had kept the generous heart of man ferocious and without mercy. The iniqui- tous principle of property which, according to all accounts, arose in woman was being attacked by the very mob that had evoked it. Strong measures were taken. Nothing could abate the fury of the assailants. They were exterminated to a woman! That is the history, messieurs, which hides behind this little piece of rusted iron. — Alfred H$oth Kuttntr. A TEUTONIC RADIATOR. Hey, Jimmie ! Come over here and get warmed." A man doesn’t always look as young as he feels or a woman feel as young as she looks. Located. An orator, wishing to give an il- lustration to point his moral, shouted, ‘‘Where is the fool who rocked the boat last summer?” ‘‘Say, mister,” came a voice from the audience, ‘‘you can find him down on the pond, trying to see how near he can skate to the ‘Danger’ sign.” A Truism. “I DARES ’EM TO SHOW THEIRSELVES.' A SYM-PHONY FROM THE GERMAN. Der wandernde Musikant. M URRISCH sitzen sie und nr.aulen, Auf den Banken stumm und breit, Gahnend strecken sich die Faulen Und die Kecken suchen Streit! Da komm’ ich durchs Dorf geschritten, Fernher durch den Abend kiihl, Stell’ mich in des Kreises Mitten, Griisz’ und zieh’ mein Geigenspiel. Und wie ich den Bogen schwenke, Ziehn die Klange in der Rund’ Allen recht durch die-Gelenke Bis zum tief3ten Herzensgrund. Und nun geht’s ans Glaserklingen, An ein Walzen urn und urn, Je mehr ich streich’, je mehr sie springen Keiner fragt erst lang: warum? — Jeder will dem Geiger reichen Nun sein Scherflein auf die Hand — Da vergeht ihm gleich sein Streichen Und fort ist der Musikant. Und sie sehn ihn frohlich steigen Nach den Waldeshohn hinaus, Horen ihn von fern noch geigen Und gehn all’ vergniigt nach Haus. Doch in Waldes griinen Hallen Rast ich dann noch manche Stund’, Nur die fernen Nachtigallen Schlagen tief aus nacht’gem Grund. Und es rauscht die Nacht so leise Durch die Waldeseinsamkeit Und ich sinn’ auf neue Weise, Die der Menschen Herz erfreut. The Wandering Musician. D ULL and gloomy on the benches, There they sit in listless mood- Lazy ones with monkey wrenches, Braver ones devoid of food. Then, as I approach the village From afar in evening’s chill, I arrive in time to pillage, And with fiddle show my skill. And my bow, with rhythmic motion, With grand melody fills space; Arms and legs splash in the ocean, Joy and shouting on each face. Cheerfully they clink the glasses, And they waltz in circles gay. See them gambol, lads and lasses! See them gayly walk away! Each one slips to me a quarter, Puts the trifle in my hand; Then I quit and drink some water. After which I leave my stand. Then they see me hopping gayly Up the mountain’s forest green. I repeat the journey daily, When I have some gasoline. But in verdant forest places I remain for many hours, See the nightingales’ sweet faces Here and there among the flowers. And the night’s mysterious rackets In the lonely forest wild Make me think of yellow jackets When I used to be a child. .✓tarv* v’v ^ ' • 1 ."s; " * • • •>■:•' tv. > * .: ■ ,-^y .-,*? - • ? ' -W ; *' * v /v* . T/.. /, • w:;-v: m : mi - : wm ■> & INSPIRATION ' THE ULTIMATUM Husband of the playful one—" Stop it now, or I 'll wake your baby !” Deterrent of Crime. B, MtLANDBURGH WILSON [Music for Prison Meals. Federal Convicts at Atlanta to have Popular Entertainment Each Day. News heading .J T HE CASHIER stood beside the safe And helped himself to bills; His getaway was neatly planned Beyond the distant hills. No thought of mother stayed his hand Nor dimmed his greedy eye; We whispered, “Music with your meals” — He put temptation by. The desperado on the track Prepared to stop the train. And in some lonely desert cave To hide his ill-got gain. No thought of hardship or disgrace Availed his crime to check; We murmured, “Music with your meals” — He ran away, by heck ! The man with murder in his heart Beside a brother stood, And planned to take the other’s life *Vith brutal hardihood. No thought of Cain or penalty Unnerved his hand that day; We muttered, “Music with your meals” — He threw his gun away. No Wonder. Mrs. Givem — “What makes you so tired?” Weary Willie— “ Heredity, mum. Me father was the original Tired Business Man.” Though Not Relished, A little lemon, now and then, Is good for some conceited men. Order Obeyed. Willis — “My son was spending so much at college that I told him he must cut some of his luxuries.” Gillis — “Did he do it?” Willis — “Yes. He writes me that he has been cutting classes ever since.” The Stage. Stella — ‘‘Is her marriage announced?” Bella — “Yes; now it only needs to be denounced and renounced.” Who wants to be as independent as a pig on ice? That never brings home the bacon. A Brilliant Adsmith. “You haven’t got J. Jones Jinkins writing advertisements for you any more, I hear,” remarked one business man to another, both good advertisers along different lines. “No,” replied the other in a tone of strong disapproval, “and I’m glad of it.” “What’s wrong with him? I under- stood he had taken a course from a cor- respondence school and was thoroughly competent. ” “Was he?” And the other man spat as though something tasted bad. “Was he? Well, let me tell you what he done. I had a new brand of toothbrushes and I wanted something extra to exploit them all over, and I told him to go to it good. Next day in all the papers it showed up large and luminous, and at the bottom there was a line standing out clear which read: ‘If not satisfactory after a week’s trial, return and get your money back. ’ Now, what do you think of that ? Toothbrushes, mind you! Rats!” Another Duty. “You are my wife’s social secretary?” he asks of the beauteous creature who is seated at the small desk in the study. “Yes, sir,” she smiles. “I am sup- posed to take Mrs. Blirrup’s place in as many social details as possible.” “Well — er — she doesn’t seem to be coming downstairs this morning, and it has always been her custom to kiss me good-by when I start for the office.” *• $ . t h' A FAUX PAS. Thoughtless admirer ' You 're looking splendid this evening. (Deprecatory murmur from girl.) But perhaps it ’s the light 1” Success. By ELLIS 0. JOSES << T CAN truthfully say I am a suc- cess,” said the literary man who had hitherto kept silent. The others looked at his modest attire and tried to think of something he had written. “Yes,” he went on. ‘‘It is easy enough for a business man to stay mar- ried when he is home only one day in the week, but I have been doing all my work at home for nearly thirty years and I still have the same wife I started with.” 1 he Woman of It, Of Course. ‘‘Jermalon tells me that his wife is very angry with you because you didn’t keep your promise not to tell anybody what she told you about her sister-in- law,” says Mr. Pilfickle reprovingly. ‘‘Well, she has no reason to censure me,” asserts Mrs. Pilfickle. ‘‘I never confided it to anybody except you.” ‘‘That’s just it, my dear. I hap- pened to mention it to one or two of the fellows downtown, and they spread it around until it came to Jermalon’s ears, and he told his wife about it. I don’t see why it is you women have to gossip all the time.” As Shelley Has It Not. I fear thy kisses, gentle maiden, I fear thy mien, thy tone, thy mo- tion — Methinks thine eyes are heavy laden With thoughts about this leap-year notion. Frenzied Finance. Little Jack Horner got a good corner On all the wheat supply; But the price of it fell before he could sell, And he said, ‘‘What a thickhead am I!” There’s more truth than poetry in some poetry. Boss — “ What is the cause of this continual tardiness, young man ?” Newly-wed employee — ‘‘Well, I, er-um — have to button up the ashes, light the shirt- waist, and throw out the furnace before I can leave home.” Humorless Women The Wandering Willie had received plentiful inward repairs at a generous farmhouse half a mile down the road, and when he came to the next he might have passed on, but he was in still fur- ther need, and he knocked at the kitchen door. A kind lady responded to his knock. He was such a ragged specimen that her heart was moved before he spoke. ‘‘Why, you poor man!” she ex- claimed. “Come into the house! We haven’t got much just now, but you can have enough to keep body and soul to- gether. ” “ ’Tain’t that so much, lady,” he re- plied, sticking out a foot in a dilapidated shoe, “as it is something to keep upper and sole together.” Ha laughed at his joke, but the woman did not. Women have no sense of humor. She slammed the door in his face. His Specialty. “Do you speak several languages, father?” “No, my son,” replied Mr. Henpeck, gazing sadly at his wife; “but I do know the mother tongue.” The Fault. Nurse — “Yes, Johnny, the doctor brought twins.” Johnny — “Gee! That’s what we get for having a specialist!” Impatient guest — See, here, waiter, how long is at steak of mine going to be?” Waiter — “ About twelve inches, sir. Irate teacher — “ 1 never saw such a stupid child ! What was your head made for, anyway?” Scared pupil — “ Er — er — to hold me hat on, I guess. . Banning — “ What sort of game did you see the most “ Your new cook is awfully tall, isn t she ? on your hunting trip?’ 1 ,, 14 Yes ; but I don’t think she ’ll stay long. Gunning — “ Oh, hang it, poker, as usual. Think of It! /^\UT IN Northport, Long Is- land, where every man dwells in peace under his own vine and fig tree (even if they do publish law books out there), lives one Mr. G., who has a farm on the outskirts. This gentleman had a wife who was famous the country round as a model of the domestic virtues. She worked from the cock crow to the hours nearing mid- light. On Sundays she was privileged to go to church (but this meant getting up early to attend to the children and many household duties) and hear from the pulpit the wonders of man- kind, as well as the manifold sins of womankind, especially her first sin which brought de- struction on the world, etc. Well, finally Mrs. G. died. Several of the neighbors were sym- pathizing with the bereaved husband, and between his sobs he was heard to say, “Yes, she was a good wife. I could not feel worse if one of my best horses had died.” If this is not an exhibition of the old feudal instinct, what is? An Appreciation (?) of a Contemporary. The United States has a new paper, which is said to be hu- morous by its editors, who, with due modesty, declare their pub- lication to be the American Punch. A fair-minded examination, however, shows its claims upon our sense of humor to be slight, indeed. The jokes display all the finesse of a street-car adver- tisement. Those that do not smell of the oil lamp savor of the public house. That there are amid the painful efforts some pieces of near-wit cannot be de- nied, but, on the whole, it is spoiled by the overstrain that obtrudes at every point. The most significant feature of the first number is the fact that the editors recognize woman suffrage to be so prominent in the popu- lar mind as to deserve a thrust on nearly every page. We are glad to record this single piece of penetration on the part of the new venture — it is the one ray of light in general gloom. But the jokes on woman suffrage are so stricken with years that it is painful to behold their wrinkled faces. The only great point which seems to have escaped their livid imagination is that the husbands of women suffragists are all at home darn- ing socks, pacifying squalling infants, and doing the family wash. The burden of the clever phillipics is that women suffragists are ugly old frights, that they wear hobble skirts or trousers, and that they smoke cigar- ettes. The editor sees no humor in the “antis” and divekeepers standing on the same platform to protect the home or running about the country preaching and exemplifying the moral precept that women should stay at home. — The Woman Voter. A BOOTH FOR THE SALE OF ALL SUFFRAGE LITERATURE, INCLUDING “ JUDGE.” A little girl was asked what she called her new kitten. “Anti-Suffragist,” she said. Sometime later the same inter- rogator called. “I don’t call my kitty Anti-Suffragist any more,” the child in- formed her. “I call her just Suffragist.” “Why the change?” asked the caller. “’Cause now my kitty has her eyes open,” was the answer. A Student of the Congressional Record Mrs. Emily Montague Bishop, well known as a lecturer at Chautauquas and before women’s clubs and as the author of “The Road to Health,” “Seventy Years Young,” etc., has crowned the activities of a useful life with a unique achievement. No one before her ever thought the Congressional Records fas- cinating reading. Now suffragists and others are taking up these supposedly dry sheets and finding them a source of keen delight. In a reading which she is now delivering, entitled “Man, Woman’s Equal, ” Mrs. Bishop depicts scenes from the United States Senate which are true to life and which cleverly show up the meanderings, frailties, and peculiarities of the masculine politician in such a way as to remove any lingering feelings of strong superiority on the part of the men toward feminine minds. It is all done with a hilariousness which delights Mrs. EMILY MONTAGUE BISHOP. the men who hear her as much as the women. Judge’s Prize Contest Why Should Women Vote ? Judge offers a first prize of $ 1 0 I^OLD for the best ten reasons, and Five Yearly Subscriptions to Judge (Value $5 each.) for the five next best collections of ten reasons. Conditions : 1. Contributions must not contain more than 500 words. 2. They must be received at this office before 5 30 p.m. on Thursday, Feb. 29. 3. They should be directed to Judge Suffrage Ed itor, 225 Fifth Aven ue N. Y. The judges will be chosen from among the leaders of the Suffrage Party. The Fly and the Auto. (Adapted.) A FLY upon an auto lit, And thought he caused the sound. He thought he made it chug and spit, And made the wheels go round. This very busy little fly Has won undying fame For self-conceit amazing high, And ignorance the same. But now a rival do we find — A fly with ardor keen. She says, “I’ll just climb on behind And stop the big machine.” We see her strive and strive in vain, And soon she will desist; For the “anti” fly cannot restrain The auto suffragist. An Embarrassing Moment. When an old friend drops in to see you, and you begin to tell him how well you have got along since last you met and how greatly you have prospered — And you see that he does not believe you— And he sees that you see he does not believe you — And he tries to act as though he be- lieved you — And you see that he tries to act as though he believed you — And he sees that you see — That is probably the most embarrass- ing moment that can happen for both of you. Hoots from a Wise Owl. There are never any deductions from the wages of sin. They are paid in full. A joke is not necessarily a crazy one because it is cracked. In some grades of society it is the impossible person who is the most prob- able. Grocers may come and coal men may go, but there is never any short measure in the peck of trouble. Whatever may be said of the general average of the available lacteal fluid supply, the milk of human kindness never needs to be pasteurized. In the voyage through life, it isn’t al- Elastic hat stays for expansive millinery would eliminate the use of the barbarous hat-pins. ways the biggest blower who raises the wind most effectively. In courtship many a man fails to land on his feet until he has fallen on his knees. Speaking of oratory, did you ever ob- serve that the telephone book is full of ringing addresses? It is in a landed aristocracy more than any other that men are known by their deeds. Some people refuse utterly to take stock in purgatory, although they know that it has not now and never will have any water in it. The average woman does not really care particularly for the last word, pro- vided she can b«»gin all over again after somebody else has spoken it. Do not fail to remember that a man may be tremendously stuck on himself and yet be a very loose character. We have known men to be positively brilliantly bright and yet remain the possessors of the shadiest of reputations. The man with money to burn is often unconsciously doing no more than add- ing to the fuel of purgatory. The beggar who is after dinner has to make his after-dinner speech generally before he gets it. Beware of the girl with the steely eye. It is she of whom the novelists write that “Carlotta looked daggers at him.” The reason why some folks have the wool pulled over their eyes is that it would be an almost monumental task to pull it over their ears. The trouble with income, on the whole, is that most of us cannot live within it any more than we can live without it. Genesis. Pharaoh had just dreamed of the seven full and the seven blasted ears of corn. “You are going to invent a new kind of breakfast food,” interpreted Joseph. The early bird is usually served with a large, cold bottle on the side. FROM ONE EXTREME TO ANOTHER. A TOTAL ECLIPSE Reflections of Uncle Ezra. By ROY K. MOULTON. TTAGE BUTTS, of our town, is takin’ A a correspondence-school course in English and hopes to become sportin’ writer for some newpaper; but the question is what he needs of English. There are some civil service employes who are not. Some of them are very uncivil. A sure way to kill a flea is to hit him on the head with a sledgehammer. Eb Frisby and Ren Purdy ain’t spoke in nineteen years, on account of a line fence. Eb moves it every night, and in A FAMILY TRAIT. “ How do you come by the ability to paint?" “ Well, it seems to run in the family. I have a mother and three sisters ” SPORTING TERM — “TAKING THE COUNT.” around. They are the married ones and the single ones. The fellers that never took a drink in their lives are generally the ones that demand the most credit for stayin’ sober. Amos Hanks is away at college get- tin’ a liberal education, and his father is stayin’ hum and gettin’ an education in liberality. Lafe Purdy went to war, but is havin’ some trouble tryin’ to pose as a hero, bekus he was shot right where his sus- penders cross. Hank Tumms is an expert interior decorator. He decorates his own in- terior mostly, down at the Golden Nug- get saloon. Somehow or other, it seems that a feller that does embroidery and fancy work never gets to be President. the morning Ren gets up and moves it back ; and each one has had to put a second mortgage on his farm bekus he had been so busy diggin’ postholes. Two new lawyers have moved into town, and circuit court is thinkin’ some of runnin’ nights. There are 5,783,983 book agents in this country and 8,964,873 men sellin’ life insurance. Arsenic and strychnine are very in- jurious to the health if taken immoder- ately. Home ties are those which you wear only around home. They are generally selected by your wife. Amos Hanks says he is strong for chafin’-dish cookery. A feller has to be strong for that. Men who wear those fuzzy fedoras are not necessarily insane. Some receive them as birthday presents and have to wear them. If all the energy wasted in tryin’ to swat flies were harnessed and concentrated, it would operate all of the railroad trains in this country and seventeen in Canada. There ain’t no use in tryin’ to make a silk purse out’n a pig’s ear, for, even if a feller did, he wouldn’t have nothin’ much to put in it. A feller that will give his wife a washboard for a birthday present may be a gentleman and a scholar, but he is no philanthropist. While the rest of the fel- lers were gone to the war, Hank Purdy served his country faithfully, too — on the circuit court jury. There are only two kinds of women who know how to make a man stand « a prrERsi.i Little boy — “ I can’t remember what pop sent me for. It was either bread or tobacco. He said to have it charged.” Grocer — “ It was bread. He always has money enough for tobacco.” Can you tea me if this is "Is that BiacKCR Street ? " 'Htv, sonny! TWrs BietKER Street ’Vlea, vw»M ovou wo" ABOUT THAT ? Lift IN * etc, C'TT.au shut. I J ^ CKtSS I’u HAYE To TRY KY Wnk Italian ok SOMEBODY If M I’ia soinu to get •TO C>atKE«.STR6t Today." w THE BABBLE OF BABEL. Grandmother and Geraldine. <4"\V7HEN John asked permission to ’ v pay his addresses to me, father investigated his character very care- fully before consenting,” said grand- mother. ‘‘The first time Reginald called, I looked up his father in Bradstreet’s be- fore risking any further damage to the drawing-room furniture,” laughed Ger- aldine. ‘‘And when John asked me to marry him, I told him I would think it over. A girl didn’t throw herself at a man in my day. ” ‘‘She doesn’t now, either. When Reginald asked me, I said I would answer him as soon as my father saw his father and ascertained if he would make the right kind of a settlement on us.” ‘‘For months father and mother were the only ones who knew that John and I were engaged. I wouldn’t have had any- body know for worlds,” said grand- mother. ‘‘I sent the notice to the newspapers the next morning after Reginald pro- posed,” acknowledged Geraldine. ‘‘It requires a lot more nerve for a man to break an engagement after it has been announced. ” ‘‘As soon as we became engaged,” mused the elder lady, ‘‘I set to work By TERRELL LOVE HOLLIDAY. hemming towels and table linen. I had already pieced quilts and made comforts in anticipation of the day when I should have a home of my own.” ‘‘It’s up to Reginald to provide the comforts of home, if we have one — which I hope we shall not. I prefer to live in a hotel,” asserted the younger woman emphatically. ‘‘John warned me that his board was seldom more than bacon and cornbread, but I was willing to share it with him.” HASN’T GOT IT WITH HIM. Teacher (disgustedly) — “ My boy, my boy, where is your intuition ?’ ’ Boy — ‘‘ I ain’t got any. I ’m only here a few days, and I didn't know what I had to git.” ‘‘I am willing to share Reginald’s board as long as he can afford to board where they keep a good chef.” “Sundays,” said grandmother, “John saddled old Bess, put the pillion on be- hind for me, and we rode twenty miles to church.” “I have promised Reginald that he may stay at home and read the Sunday supplements if he will provide a limou- sine for my church-going.” “I wove the cloth and did all the sew- ing for myself and my six children,” said grandmother. “Women married, then, to get work, ” declared Geraldine. “Now they marry so they can quit work.” “Yes,” asserted the old lady, “the modern woman ‘toils not, neither does she spin. ’ ” “I am acquainted with several who have to toil pretty hard and spin many fairy tales in order to work their hus- bands for a new gown. If Reginald turns out like that, I’ll renovate his ideas or Reno-vate him.” “At the pace we are traveling now, I don’t know where we shall land,” mourned grandmother. “Neither do I,” admitted Geraldine; “but the going is good. Why borrow a tire until you have a blowout?” An Average Day’s Tips for Mr. Tipton. By HARVEY PEAKE. 7.00 a. m. — Tips shade of night lamp to get the time. 7.05 a. m. — Tips bed into upright posi- tion to get room. 7.15 a. m. — Tips basin to get rid of water. 7.20 a. m. — Tips mirror to get light for dressing. 7.25 a. m. — Tips waitress to serve breakfast. 7.30 a. m. — Tips bowl to get at oat- meal. 7.33 a. m. — Tips urn to get coffee. 7.45 a. m. — Tips chair to get greater ease. 7.55 a. m. — Tips tobacconist to get special brand of cigars. 8.00 a. m. — Tips newsboy to get paper. 8.15 a. m. — Tips driver of hansom cab to get riae to office. 8.20 a. m. — Tips elevator boy to get up to his floor. 8.30 a. m. — Tips boy to have office dusted. 9.00 a. m. — Tips stenographer to get letters written. 10.00 a. m. — Tips operator of telephone exchange to get party for him. 10.05 a. m. — Tips party for listening. 12.00 m. — Tips elevator boy to get do.vn to first floor. 12.10 p. m. — Tip-toes into cafe to get lunch. 12.30 p. m. — Tips waiter for service. 12.35 p. m. — Tips boy in check room to get hat. 1.00 p. m. — Tips barber to get shave. 1.15 p. m. — Tips bootblack to get shine. 1.40 p. m. — Tips manicure to get nails attended to. 1.50 p. m. — Tips elevator boy to get up to office again. 2.00 p. m. — Tips postman to get after- noon mail. 3.00 p. m. — Tips fly to leave his bald spot alone. REFLECTION OF THE BIRDMAN. “ How in the world do you do it?” 5.00 p. m. — Tips elevator boy to get down to terra firma. 5.10 p. m. — Tips acquaintance for tip on to-morrow’s races. 6.30 p. m. — Tips taxi driver to get to restaurant. 7.00 p. m. — Tips head waiter to get special table. 7.30 p. m. — Tips waiter for service. 7.40 p. m. — Tips boy to get hat. 7.45 p. m. — Tips doorman of cafe to get exit. 7.50 p. m. — Tips carriage man for call- ing taxi. 8.00 p. m. — Tips sidewalk speculator for theater ticket. 8.05 p. m. — Tips boy to get program. 8.06 p. m. — Tips usher to get seat. 11.00 p. m. — Tips taxi driver to get home. 11.30 p. m. — Tips apartment-house hall man to get in. 11.35 p. m. — Tips elevator man to get up to his rooms. 12.00 p. m. — -Tips glass of brandy and soda to get sleeping potion. 12.15 a. m.- Tips eyes to get sleep. Modern Version. By CHARLES C. JOKES. He digged a pit, he digged it deep — Now comes the sudden shock ! He fell not in; but, rich as sin, He’s selling mining stock! Ode to a Landlord. By a Struggling Poet. Board $ 9.00 Room 4.50 Laundry .90 Total $14.40 Answer to Correspondent. Yes, Harrylde, I will advise you frankly about the question you ask. If, as you say, your salary is forty dollars per month, you can easily afford to give your sweetheart violets and chocolates and take her to the opera in a taxicab. To be sure, this will mean some slight economies on your part, such as occupy- ing a very small hall bedroom, living on few and poor meals, wearing advertised clothes, and giving up smoking; but we should be willing cheerfully to make some small sacrifices for the darling girls. Good Things. A good thing is a thing to do, And yet we seldom view one; But still I can’t believe that you Would rather be than do one! A PROPHECY. German steamers leaving Frankfort for the Sandwich Islands. TO Th m ~ Vv L ^ / O , m * « «.e . v JAiilfc- MonreomeiM vlao &, — — ~* — ■ . ?,... Z.." . --QfiUBg^-^. . 5 E N T . Dame Fashion at Work. By CARLETON G. GARRETSON. D AME FASHION came down to her office one morn, With a step far from light and a frown most forlorn. She looked o’er her mail, then exclaimed with a sigh, “No dame in the world is more wretched than I ! “ Not a change in the styles have I made for a week, And to find out the reason my clients all seek. “For something that’s new I have cudgeled my brain, And the tailors and milliners loudly complain. “ ‘We want something fancy and costly,’ they say; ‘Some freak that will take, though for only a day. “ ‘Gowns and hats that ’twill need a small fortune to buy, From fabrics, of course, that are scarce and come high.’ Then the dame called her maids and said, “ Scour the place For ribbons and furbelows, tinsel and lace, “ For feathers and buckles and gimcracks and pins, For here’s where a startling new fashion begins.” Then she grabbed and she sewed and she ripped and she tore, And turned out a creation unheard of before. Ungainly it was, with no semblance of sense; But from Dame Fashion’s standpoint ’twas simply immense. “ It will make a sensation, hut quickly will tire, And that,” said the dame, “is what modistes desire.” The strange thing quite finished, she took up her pen, Tap-tapped on her forehead a moment, and then The description of what she’d concocted she wrote, And headed the squib, “Up-to-date Fashion Note. “ The women of style who’d be modishly groomed Should know that the present dress fashions are doomed. “ The latest apparel, approved by elite, Is a marked innovation, from head unto feet. ‘ The skirt will he fuller, the bodice less plain. And the sylph-like effects we’ll no longer retain.” All this and some more she in haste jotted down And sent to the fashion sheets published in town. And she thought, “How the women will part with their mon!” Then she giggled and chuckled at what she had done. “ Poor, suffering women ! W hat puppets are they, Who scoff at my edicts, but always obey ! ” Her task at an end, her old hat she took down, Threw her last winter’s coat o’er her two-year-old gown. “My position,” she murmured, “is simply immense, But it wouldn’t last long if the women had sense! ” Now you who may read this just ponder a while — Aren’t you one of the slaves of the tyrant called Style? HER EXIT. Solons and Suffrage. The statesman who will ad- vance theories in the face of contradicting facts must not be surprised if his utterances fail to convince and result in his being held up to ridicule. The following extracts, taken from recent speeches in the State capitol at Albany, prove, if nothing else, that their authors are not students of current events. An occasional perusal of the newspapers published in the six States where women vote would en- lighten these gentlemen con- siderably and perhaps cause them to modify their statements. Every man “would” be met on his return home every evening by his wife in a towering rage over politics. — The Senator from Binghamton. The home “would” come down around our heads in everlasting ruin. — The Same Senator. My great-grandmother “would” turn over in her grave to reproach me. — Senator Grady. Chivalry “would” die right down dead in its tracks, a heap of rusty helmets, bucklers, greaves, and stove-pipes. — Levy. It “would” take MM. Lepine and Bertillon to find in all the common- wealth a shirt with its full complement of buttons, if woman went out to vote once a year. — Cuvillier. The Suffrage Meeting. A PROBLEM PLAY. By SARA LYNCH. Mah downtrod sisters — I mus’ thank yo’ fo’ yo’ applause. I’s yere to explanation ’bout de equal suffrage cause. Now, befo’ we starts dis meetin’, jes’ to show we’s in dis fight, Let yo’ loud voices out an’ try to crack dis roof to-night. ‘ ‘ Hooray ! Hooray ! Hooray ! We’s in de fight! What’s de mattah with suffrage? It’s all right!” Yo’ fine enthusyism is mos’ worthy of mah note — It plain shows me, mah sisters, dat yo’s ready fo’ de vote. (Cries of ' We is ' ” and loud applause.) While I’s not yere to try to cause no family fuss, A FAIR TRIAI.. Course yo’ ole man an’ my ole man am all de same to us — Judge’s Prize Contest Why Should Women Vote ? Judge offers a first prize of $10 IN GOLD for the best ten reasons, and Five Yearly Subscriptions to Judge (Value $5 each.) for the five next best collections of ten reasons. Conditions : 1. Contributions must not contain more than 500 words. 2. They must be received at this office before 5 30 p.m. on Thursday, Feb. 29 3. They should be directed to Judge Suffrage Editor, 225 Fifth Av enue, N, Y. The judges will be chosen from among the leaders of the Suffrage Party. Dey’s men! We’s agin de men! . Ain’t dat de trufe? (Applause lasting twenty minutes ) MRS. JESSICA G FINCH A B LL B. When Mrs. Finch is not engaged in explaining from rost- rums and motor cars why women should vote she is attending to her duties as proprietress and principal of a select school lor girls in New York City. She is president ol the New York Equal Franchise Society, and is considered one of the most eloquent and convincing speakers in the suffrage ranks We— (Interrupted by more applause ) All right, mah sisters, go ahead at dat yere roof! “Hooray! Hooray! Hooray! We’s in de fight ! What’s de mattah with wom- en folkses? We’s all right !” Mah po’r sisters, yo’ll bes’ understan’ de cause an’ con- sequence, If I starts mah talk dis evenin’ far away back whar things commence. When dis ole worl’ wuz made, de bes’ stasticians now repo’t, Jes’ as free as air an’ sun- shine de Lord gave de right to vote. But Adam he come first, an’, with his greedy eye an’ claws. He grab dat right to vote an’ quick as wink he make some laws. Den Eve she come. An’ innocent, when ’lection day come ’bout. She get her coat an’ bonnet, makin’ ready to go out, A-turnin’ over in her haid what laws wuz fo’ de bes’. Den sly ole Adam make a cough, an’, foolin’ with his ves’, He say, “Mis’ Eve, I mos’ fo’got; but while yo’ wuz away, Some mos’ importan’ laws wuz passed. Yo’ cain’t go out to-day.” “What’s dat?” say Eve, quite sharp, an’ dar’s rebellion in her look. Den with a solemn face he opens up his own law book. “Now, we’s to mind all rules, Mis’ Eve, yo’ sees by dis yere clause; But dis yere udder one, Mis’ Eve, says I’s to make de laws.” Mis’ Eve she cry, but what’s de use? Ole Adam beat her! Den She settle down an’ left us all to ’bey de laws of men. Now, de Lord gave us dat right to vote, an’ by dese facks we know it! Arise, mah sisters! Wake de night! Jes’ claim yo’ right en’ go it! (Thiity-six minutes tumultuous applause.) What’s dat, Mis’ Jacksing? Yo’ ask how de vote gwine do yo’ good? Oh, yo’ po’r an’ falterin' sister! An’ I doan’ mean dat nothin’ rude — But doan’ dat vote do yo’ man some good? Jes’ answer dat, I say! En’ doan’ yo’ s’pose we’d make some laws to help us wimmen, hey? (Laughter and cheers ! An' now we’ll close dis meetin’ like de fashion of de men’s — Three cheers an’ den de “Battle Hymn of de Republicans.” (Three hearty cheers, and then all march around hall singing “There’ll Be a Hot Time in the Old Town Tonight.”) Meeting closed. COLOR PHOTOGRAPHY. To Get There. IF YOU don’t believe that there is room 1 at the top of the ladder, don’t stand around and talk about it — climb up and find out for yourself. Don’t stand on your dignity. It prob- ably isn’t large enough to boost you very far. Affinities. Compiled by FRANK T. KOONS. Atwood and airships. Boston and Browning. Brooklyn and the bridge. Bulls and bears. Corned beef and cabbage. Champ Clark and Congress. Chanler and Cavalieri. Dupont and Delaware. Edison and electricity. Farmers and the free list. Fowler and flying machines. Gaynor and Gotham. High heels and hobbles. Judge and jollity. Kentucky and colonels. Morgan and millions. Madero and Mexico. Mozart and music. Peary and the Pole. Penrose and Pennsylvania. Paderewski and pianos. Roosevelt and Ructions Railroads and rebates. Stars and Stripes. Stanley and the steel trust. Sing Sing and striped suits. Taft and the tariff. Taylor and Tennessee. Texas and tornadoes. Weston and walking. You Take Your Choice. Netvrich — “How far back does my family run?” Genealogist — “That’s for you to de- cide. We’ll go as far back as you wish to pay for, sir. ” All highflyers are not high livers. IT DEPENDS. Rastui — “ Do you keep chickens, mistah ?” Deacon Jones — “ Not all of ’em !” One Way of Viewing It. The stars we spy on Broadway Expensive are to see; But the stars on high no one«can buy, Yet one can see them free. The Lazy Way. Mrs. Crawford , — “Why don't you try the new paper-bag cooking?” Mrs. Crabshaw — “I would, dear, if I thought it was as easy as get- ting the meals in a paper bag at the delicatessen store.” A Modern Tale. A la Little Miss Mullet. Little Miss Teacher Sat by a preacher, Waiting some sweet words to say; Up came equal-pay-day And much pleased the lady, But frightened the preacher away. A Sweet One. “It’s molasses that catches the flies,” ventured the fond mother to her eligible daughter. “But, mother,” objected the daughter, “then they’ll say I’m too stuck up. ” Rather Indefinite. “It is the talk of the town.” “Speakingof the telephone serv- ice?” Success is never found in loaf- ing places. OK NO GREAT VALUE He — “ I believe that every man should do something to advance scientific knowledge. When I die 1 shall leave my brain to science.” She — “ Stingy thing !” Life. ties of harmony, home-making, and hap- piness are produced that yield very profitable returns. The government of the state is a divided autocracy, with the balance of power in a divided skirt, and the state motto is, ‘‘United we begin, but divided we end. ” A Word to the Wise. By CHARLES C. JONES. What keeps us true the long day through? or course, we seldom bless it. Right well I know we ought to, though. Keep at it till you guess it. Bibbs — “I see you are still keeping your good resolutions. How have you managed to held out so long ?” Nibbs — “ Easily. I take a dose of Blabber’s resolvent three times a day.’* The '""THE state of Matrimony is bounded A on the north by Shattered Ideals, on the east by Enforced Toleration, on the south by Dull Monotony, and on the west by Hopeful Possibilities. Its capital is Regret, and its other important cities are Disillusion, Race- suicide, Make-the-best-of-it, Hoping- against-hope, Affinity, Title-for-tin, Two-of-a-kind, Refuge, and the two small villages, Love and Obey. Just over the state boundary on the west are the magnificent twin cities of Divorce and Alimony, to which fast trains — on a thirty-minute schedule — are run from every point in Matrimony ex- cept Love and Obey. The principal occupation of the in- habitants is deceiving each other, fixing the blame, recalling pre-marital impor- Geography of Married By HARVEY PEAKE tance, discussing financial stortcomings, cold-storaging mothefs-in-law, nagging, and fault-finding in general. In the villages of Love and Obey small quanti- CHANGELESS. He — “ I suppose Clara is what you would call a girl of uncertain age?" She — “ No, indeed. She has been the same age for the past five seasons.” Geographical Grins From HEM1ERT ADAMS. jV/IANHATTAN — A small island, en- tirely surrounded by water and rubes; inhabited by plutocrats, aristo- crats, and Democrats. It produces scandals, stock certificates, and next- morning headaches. Favorite reading matter — the wine list. Motto — “Thou shalt want ere I want.” Philadelphia — A small, round, black dot on the right-hand side of the map. (Additional particulars are not avail- able, as up to time of going to press no returns could be obtained either by mail, telegraph, or telephone. “Central” reports that they do not answer her call; every one appears to be asleep.) Motto — “How happy could I be with ether!” Chicago — Built on the lake shore to show its contempt for water. Chief in- varicators. Manufactures words, mere words. Noted building — the Treasury. (Usually the capital is in the Treasury, but in this case the Treasury is in the Capital.) Motto — “We speak, but say nothing. ” “ You 're a great specimen of a carrier pigeon ! That 's the second time you forgot to mail a letter for me.” dustries: one-half of the population en- gaged in packing cans for sale in U. S. A.; the other half in packing trunks to sail from U. S. A. Motto — “Cum grano salis. ” Boston — The Hub of the universe. Slipped off the axle a few decades ago and still lies where it then fell. Pro- duces beans, brains, and bluestockings. Favorite reading — the card catalogue. Famous building— the Temple of Peace. (It’s not really in Boston, but they don’t know the difference. ) Motto — “We live and move and have our beans.” Washington, D. C. — Population — Senators, orators, curators, and pre- SYM PATHETIC. “ Poor little fellow ! Never did anything to anyone, and still he gets an awful beating every day.” Pittsburgh — A city whose history is shrouded in a dark cloud of mystery. It stands, reputedly, on the banks of a river; but as no one has ever been able to see the other bank, it may yet prove to be a lake or even the ocean. Pro- duces millionaires, steel, and steals. Reading matter — “When it was dark.” Motto — “Wait till the clouds roll by. ” “ That youngster doesn't seem very intelli- gent, but he has a fine appetite.” “ Well, anyway, he may grow up to be a great college athlete.” PRECAUTIONARY. “ I wonder why they put that wire thing over it ?’ ’ “ H-m, guess they ’re afraid it '11 bite.” Reno — A branch of Manhattan, used as a sanitarium for the cure of wed- galls. Population — lawyers, ladies, and a few plain women. The last are native to the soil. Reading— letters from home — no, him. Chief building — pulled down since the fight. Song — “Should auld acquaintance be forgot?” Motto — “A fool and his honey are soon parted.” Overcoming Nature. There was a maid in our town Who did not paint, ’twas said, Because her soft and dimpled cheeks Were made by nature red. But soon this maiden quite petite Grew wan, her roses fled, And all because she followed out The beauty hints she read. “And They Kick, Too.” Pat was standing near the car track when he noticed an automobile coming up the street, and to be safe he stepped back a little from the car track. The auto went past, and, just as it was passing, the driver had an occasion to turn off the track. When he did, the auto skidded on the car track, causing the back end of it to swing around, striking Pat and knocking him down. Pat was seen to get up and look after the car and say, “Now, p’hat do ye think o’ that? Whin ye stand in front o’ thim, they run over ye; and whin ye git out o’ the way to let thim pass, they turn around and kick ye!” That dull thud you may have heard was the noise of the first fall this year from the H .O cart. A CATACLYSM. Willie s Pocket. By J. HARBOUR. <4 ^TOW, Willie, you can just stand perfectly still and let me see what you have in your pocket. Aft- er finding my long-lost button- hole scissors there, I don’t know but I may also discover in that pocket the gold thimble 1 lost three months ago. From the way your pocket bulges, I should think that— Willie Smythe! What under the sun are you doing with this old belt buckle of mine in your pocket? And if here isn’t cord enough to last a department store half a day ! And buttons and beans and rub- ber bands — Willie Smythe! Do you mean to tell me that you have eaten all of the pulsatilla pellets that were once in this bottle? I wondered what had become of that new bottle of pulsatilla pellets I bought a couple of weeks ago. and here is the empty bottle in your pocket! I wonder if— What on earth do you want with two of my hairpins in your pocket? And here are three, four, six collar buttons! No wonder your father declares that he can never find a collar button in this house! And will you tell me what you are doing with this buttonhook in your pocket when you wear only laced shoes? Where on earth did you get these three trading stamps and what did you expect to do with only three of them? What do you want this cork in your pocket for and where did you get half a dozen mourning pins? Here’s a raisin and a lot of nutshells! I suppose that you have been eating nuts in school and — A pocket is a nice place for an apple core, now, isn’t it? Well, of all the dirty things I ever did see, this handkerchief of yours is the dirtiest! It is as black as your shoe and you must have been carrying it three months! Here’s a piece of chalk and a peanut and a piece of peel and a couple of matches and some cracker crumbs, a glass from some one’s spec- tacles, and — Willie Smythe! Let me ever again find a picture from a box of cigarettes in your pocket! Where did you get such a thing? What do you want to carry II. a keyring for, with- out a sign of a key on it? And of what use is an old knife handle without a single blade? Is that all that is in your pocket? All but a few little things of no account? Well, if there is anything of any account in your pocket I have not been able to discover it. Dear, dear, but you boys are strange creatures!” Old Home Week. During a recent Old Home Week in an up-State village the following ‘‘never- will-amount-to-anythings” were in at- tendance: John Wilson Clarke, who was always too lazy to do the chores, came up from New York in his big, seven-passenger car. On account of pressing work he could stay but a few hours. Ex-Governor Silby Kirkwood, who was naturally thick-headed and half- baked in his youth, stopped over in his private car to see his old home. Dr. Willus G. Dyer, one of the best known surgeons in the country, called the town fool when a boy, dropped in and left enough money for a town library. Miss Caroline Jensen Atwood, too stupid to learn in the old red school- house, now a popular authoress and playwright, visited her relatives. Charlie Druke, the spendthrift, shut up his Wall Street office long enough to attend. One of the most noticeable features of the whole celebration was the absence of the men and women who gave much promise of originality and worth during their youth. Lack of memory in their old age ac- counts for the fact that not one of the old fogies present ever said anything but good of any- body, including the successful boys present. Don. Cameton Shaftr. On Board. Rich man, poor man, magnate, peerage ; First class, second class, third class, steerage. III. When all things break our way we are on good terms with ourselves r , when they break against us others are in bad with us. ^I§W mil IV. IS THIS JOHN’S GIRL? Oh, no ! John has just come home from college and has met his stepmother for the first time. Had To Pony Up. By JOE CONE. S HE wore a pony coat — She always hoped she could ; She was the envy of The little neighborhood. She wore a pony coat — It was a dandy fit; Her husband had to sell His horse to pay for it. The Strange Part. Mr. Dresser (with evening pa- per) — “Here’s strange news! A New York child hid for thirty hours in her mother’s clothes clos- et!” Mrs. Dresser — “I should say it is strange ! Imagine a New York woman not changing her clothes in that time !” The Reason. Ella — “I see that, out West, the women are votng for the re- call of a mayor. ” Stella — “His wife probably wants him at home more.” New drug clerk — “People complain about our hair tonic; they say it makes the hair come out.” Proprietor — “Well, change the label and sell it for a depilatory to remove hair.” WHAT THEY ARE DOING. Agent — “ Where 's your ma?” Child — “ Choppin’ wood.” Agent — “ Where 's your pa, then ?” Child — “ Makin’ her.” Shuster. Oh, you, Shuster! You are the booster Of old Teheran ! Don’t let ’em rush you! Don’t let ’em crush you! You are no Persia-an. They want to master The sick Zoroaster, At present under the ban; But you’re the physician Who knows his condition, And stick to your plan — If you can ! What? — William J. Lam / ton. In Sox Signo Vinces. Jones answered an advertise- ment and sent a dollar for four pairs of socks. When they arrived, Jones looked them over and then wrote the advertiser: “Socks received. The patterns are vile. I wouldn’t be seen on the street with them on.” Back came the answer: “What are you kicking about? Didn’t we guarantee that you wouldn’t wear them out?” BASHFUL SWAIN’S PROPOSAL Phyllis, girl, when we ’re apart The things 1 fain would say to thee Flow freely from my bursting heart ; But when I rush away to thee My tongue doth seem to lose its art, And I make sad display to thee. Phyllis, girl, I long to speak Sweet words of love, my own, to thee; To print a kiss on either cheek And rave as when alone to thee; But when thy presence e’er I seek How painfully I drone to thee! Phyllis, girl, could I but say The half of what I would to thee. Could I indite a virelay And breathe it as I should to thee, Could I but tell my secret, pray, Would my poor suit seem good to thee? Phyllis, girl, what shall I do ? Although I would propose to thee, I fear I cannot learn to woo Or my intent disclose to thee. I ’ve done my best, and now I 'm through, May I present this rose to thee? Ah, bliss ! Thou holdest out thy hand ! Dost wish me to come near to thee? And dost thou really understand What I could not make clear to thee? Thou really wilst be mine? Good land! How slow I must appear to thee! — Carleton G. Garretson. ■ » 1. Inspiration. 2. Contemplation. 3. Inflation. 4. Elevation. An Afflicted Family. tCV/ES, DOC,” said the mother of a family of nine to the young doc- tor who had ridden sixteen miles into the backwoods in the dead of night, ‘‘we are a somewhat afflicted fam’ly, an’, as home doctorin’ don’t seem to do no good, I thought I’d send for you an’ see if you could straighten us out. Janey here, she’s got something wrong with her bronical tubes so she don’t breathe like she should. I been keepin’ a rag spread with goose grease an’ sprinkled with red pepper an’ mustard On her front chist, but it seems to add to her ag’ny. Jake, he’s got a mis’ry all up an’ down his spinal bone, an’ I been usin’ ker’sene both external an’ internal; but it ain’t done him no good. Lizzie Belle, she’s about ready to give up with plumbago, an’ her sister Nancy has been feelin’ mean for a week. I think that it’s skiatic roomatiz that ails Nancy, but she’s afraid it’s the new disease they calls appendeshetus. The old man has been turrible slimsy for some days, an’ Rube, our oldest boy, is all broke out with a rash that shows his blood ain’t all right. He had a turrible spell las’ night, an’ I thought he was in for cholery infantum. He’s had it off an’ on ever since he was sixteen years old. I reckoned he’d outgrow it, but it grabs him as hard now that he’s twenty-four as it did when he was younger. Wisht, Doc, that you’d just turn yourself loose an’ see if you kin sort o’ straighten us out. ” A Novel View of It. Little Dorothy — ‘‘Mamma, I ain’t as much relation to daddy as I am to you, am I” Mother — ‘‘What do you mean, dear?” Little Dorothy — ‘‘Why, I am only re- lated to daddy by marriage, but I’m related to you by bornation.” By their gifts ye shall know them. STUNG AGAIN. " Yes, George, the ring is a perfect dear; but the stone has a flaw.” “ I know it, my dear; but love is blind.” “ Yes— but not r/o/w-blind.” Give Me Your Hand. By SAM S. STINSOV. [On hands ordinarily considered clean. Doctors Ma- nol and Reverdm isolated the series of staphylococci, numerous streptococci, the bacterium coli. the proteus. sometimes the pyo cvnanic. and a hosi of other organ- isms — New York Herald ] Give me your hand, dear lave, and let me lead You into fairer paths, less rough and rocky. Give me your hand. Your hero does not heed The lurking dangers of staphylococci. Give me your hand, dear love, and let me lift You up to wisdom from the depths of folly. Give me your hand, although methinks I’ve sniffed The presence there of your bacterium coli. Give me your hand, dear love, and let me pay The price of your sweet health — to make me sick. Give me your hand, and let me kiss away All traces of your pyo cynanic. A Suggestion. When the postman to my portal Comes with dunning notes galore. I’m not prone to shout and chortle; On the other hand, I'm sore. This the painfulest of shocks is. ’Twou Id relieve my mental ills Should they place on all mail boxes This injunction: ^rosT^iOHinnsiJ PERSISTENT JACK. I 've had a dozen proposals already this season. Gracious! Good ones?" Yes. All from Jack." Free Distribution. By GRACE MtKINSTRY. Authors of novels like com- pliments well, But one sort of compliment fails; Viz., “Thanks for your book; I have loaned it to Belle, To uncle, and grandpa, and Cousin Estelle, Miss Hopkins, Tom Green, and rich Mrs. Van Pell. I’ve promised it next to Sue Briggs and Aunt Nell.” For how does all this help one’s sales? An Unfeeling Brute. By J. J. O'CONNELL. “Oh, Henry!” she exclaimed as she ran out into the hall to meet her husband, with her hands held up in dismay. “On my way home from shopping I lost my pocketbook !” “Well, as it happened on your way home, you couldn’t have lost much,” he replied, with a sigh of relief. “Oh, you’re just too mean for anything!” she cried, burst- ing into tears. “I was a fool to tell you about it! You should be ashamed of yourself to make such a remark when you know how badly I must feel !” “Forgive me, my dear,” he pleaded. “I must admit that what I said was rather mer- cenary. Tell me what you’re going to do about it. ” “Advertise for it, of course. There are things in it I wouldn’t lose for the world. For instance, there was a hair- pin I use to fasten my gloves. Tillie gave it to me out of her hair for luck the day she was married. Then there were those beautiful lines, entitled ‘Twilight Musings,’ I cut out while we were engaged, and I don’t know how many samples and recipes. Besides, there was the business card of that man who was kind enough to offer to make me a crayon portrait of you absolutely free of charge.” “You needn’t mention the other things,” her husband broke in. “Don’t be so unsym- pathetic,” she pleaded, “but tell me how to finish this advertise- ment I’ve started.” “After hearing that THE ULTIMATE. A thousand miles a minute list of what your pocketbook contained, ” he returned, with a smile, “I guess you’d better wind the advertisement up in the orthodox way by stating that the contents were of no value except to the owner. ” Every-day Facts and Fancies. The most abused word in the English language is “guaranteed.” Your neighbor always has the best furnace — his house is never cold. Not infrequently the manufacturing plant looks like the picture on the firm’s stationery. Jokes rush in where sermons fear to tread. A little suspicion always at- taches to the writer who wants to sum up, who wants to con- sume a large chunk of his ar- ticle in telling what he has said. Itopens him to the double charge (1) of not having made his points clear as he went along, and (2) of being painfully con- scious of the fact that he has not. Such a writer is in need of advice. When he finds himself desiring to sum up, let him re- examine his points. Maybe they are not worth stating at all. Maybe he will find it worth while to wait a year or two until he gets a better grasp of them. If, however, he thinks it im- perative to go ahead at once and believes he can make himself clear in the summary, let him do so, then eliminate the body of the article and let the sum- mary stand as the whole. Or, having reached the firm conclu- sion that a summary is neces- sary, let him thereupon revise his article so that a summary will not be necessary. Summaries are very desirable in textbooks or wherever the dissemination of knowledge is largely a forced process. But when an intelligent person picks up an article, he wants to get the points at the first reading. If, then, he wants to go back and sum them up for himself, he can do so, provided the article is prop- erly written. The writer who sums up for himself too often has nothing to sum. Mother Goose Again. By GEORGE B. STAFF. Little Miss Muffet Tried hard to bluff it On the election day; But a challenger spied her, And, walking beside her, He frightened Miss Muffet away. Proper Place. His friend — “ There ’sh a tipless hotel down street a little way. Let’sh go down.” Jaggs — “Justh the place. These other ones here are tipping some- thing awful !” ‘To Sum Up.” By ELLIS 0. JONES. LOOKS LIKE THEM. Wife — “ All that you are you owe to me.” Husband — ” Here are thirty cents. Now we' re square.” “AYE, AYE, SIR.” lmo^ene — “ Oh, papa ! Surely he must be hurt." bather — “ Nonsense, pettie, those chaps are used to hardships. A Resolution. Made by C. LESLIE VAN EVERY. O LD PIPE, good-by ! ’Tis New Year’s Day ! And now must I Throw you away. It hurts, dear pal ! I always shall Remember you, My comrade true ! You now must drop Until you stop Upon the street At people’s feet! But, stay! My mind Is changed, I find. I’ll want to light You up ’fore night — Smile at yourself! Stay on the shelf! The Real Objection. “What’s the matter? Do you object to the heating of your flat?” asked the rent collector. “No, it’s not that; it’s the fact that you don’t heat it which I ob- ject to.” Great Scott ! Teethes there a babe whose cries are faint, Who suffers pain without complaint? ’Tis not my own, if there be such. The midnight oil for weeks we’ve burned, And my poor head for sleep has yearned. But would I part with babe? Not much ! An agreeable gin to brokers — mar-gin. A bromide is one who is satisfied with things as they are. Be not him. HOPE K THE ONLY REAL WHITE HOPE. The Coal Pile. Little blinding snow storms, Little winds that roar Make the precious coal pile Shrink up more and more. On the Job. Bartender — “What’s the mat- ter? Eating all the lunch on this counter! Have you no home?” Bum — “I am a food inspector.” The Select Twenty. Anybody can name twenty men who might be the greatest — but naming twenty who might be the smallest would be more difficult. The Only Way. Little drops of perspiration, Little grains of grit — The only way to show the world That you are really “It.” His Point of View. Hank Stubbs — “Looks like we’re goin’ to hev a purty hard winter.” Bige Miller — “Thet’s the way it seems to them who are alius lookin’ fur the soft side uv ev’rything. ” Memoranda. * Of course, the “higher up” a man is, the harder it is to get at him. Just because a girl wears a pony coat is no sign she is a high stepper. COR ONE whole page His Honor is A going to be serious, or at least semi- serious. He has been told that there is too much frivolty in his makeup, so here’s where he straightens out his face and proves himself not guilty of this awful accusation. Among the thousands of women who have adopted Judge as a blues-eradicator are many who believe that women should vote. They will greet this page with unalloyed delight. Others there are who look askance at the idea. They will first endure, but finally em- brace, His Honor hopes. Still others are on the fence. Well, he will dismiss these with the simple observation that a fence is no place for a woman. Any- how, he hopes this page will be voted (and here’s a case where all women can vote) at least an interesting innovation. The Difference. Clarence — “Pop, what’s the difference between a suffragist and a suffragette? Pop — “Well, son, as 1 understand it, one wants to vote and the other is go- ing to.” Mrs. Rudolph Blankenburg. It is a question whether Mayor Blank- enburg, of Philadelphia, is deserving of fame so much on account of his high position as through his relationship by marriage to Mrs. Blankenburg. This tal- ented woman, who be- lieves not only that wo- men should vote, but that • they will, has publicly signified her intention of giving her husband’s city an administration de luxe, having for years had pronounced views on how a city should be managed. Under the direction of' Mrs. Mrs. rudoi.ph Blankenburg and her husband, Philadelphia may look for an awakening from her traditional lethargy. Where We Lead. Fair Greece may have excelled in art, Great Rome in making law; And yet we see a thing or two No Caesar ever saw, Although he traveled miles and miles — A thing to equal modern styles! The perusal of history proves that women have played a very important part in originating the ideas that have developed into epoch-making devices and improvements. The first invention of woman was consummated in the Gar- den of Eden, when Eve hit upon the scheme of the distribution of burden by implicating her lord and master as a participant in the apple-eating epi- sode. Primitive woman seems to have been re- sponsible for much that to-day seems indispens- able. She invented agri- culture and transporta- tion, as well as cloth and pottery and the tools with which they were con- structed. While man was working out the plans of the war club and the bow and arrow, she pro- duced the mortar, the cooking pot, and the loom. The hoe, the plow, the saddler’s knife, baskets, rope, yarn, thread, cloth, matting, the cradle, the trunk, valise, chimney, pul- ley, and countless other invaluable de- vices were thought of by woman, while her husband busied him- self with pursuits of a far less constructive charac- ter. Her recent achieve- ments fill countless pages in the government patent records. One of her latest is a car strap joined to a hook, which a woman may carry around in her shop- ping bag and attach to the overhead bar in a street car; or, since car straps, made by man for man, are fixed at a man’s height, she can hook the device into another strap, and thus make herself The only phase of the sub- ject in which man has outdone woman is in the invention of reasons why she shouldn’t vote. True, he has perfected woman’s inventions and made labor-sav- ing machines, and the machine has created an era of industrialism which has no precedent in the history of the world. Women have not yet adjusted contribute to it as largely as they did to the earlier industrialism of the world. Mrs. Anna Ross Weeks. Capturing things runs in Mrs. Weeks’s family. Her great-grand- father, John Adams, helped capture Major Andre. She is a descendant of Anna Dud- ley, who captured fame as a New England poet- ess. Right now she is engaged in helping to cap- ture the vote. Her espe- cial hobby is working among the boy and girl suffragists. Anti-suffrage Movement. ( With apologies to Madam Sherry .t Every little movement Mrs. ANNA ROSS WEEKS. BLANKENBURG comfortable. Has a meaning All its own. Every anti’s feeling By her wobbling May be known ; And every near-thought That comes a-stealing O’er her being Comes revealing All her weakness, With appealing Little pathos All its own ! Women and the Home. “Woman’s place is in the home.” Often hear we this objection. “From her hearth she should not roam; ’Tis in need of her protection.” Very pretty argument ’Gainst the scheme of women voting; But it isn’t worth a cent When you’ve doffed its sugar coating. If the women ceased to toil In their numerous vocations, Ceased their dainty hands to soil In their many occupations, What a hubbub there would be ! Wheels of progress would cease mov- ing. What stagnation we would see This frail argument disproving! Give to them the voting right; Then they’ll pass some legislation That will bring them from this plight To their fitting, proper station. Home is woman’s proper sphere — Surely no one will deny it — And the vote will keep her here; Therefore, why not let her try it? HAVE TD-NIEHT YV7ILEY, HARVEY W.— Harvey W. Wiley, Uncle Sam’s ” family physician, is the most serious-looking man in Washington. If you took one glance at him you would think sure that all the residents on Pennsylvania Avenue had just nibbled at some chloride of sodium or benzoate of soda; a second glance would convince you that all the citizens this side of the Red River of the North had just dined on toad- stools with ground glass on the side. He is the government’s gastronomic detective; he can taste a spoon of split-pea soup and tell the sort of solder used. If he gets one good look at a sardine he can tell if the fisherman washed his hands before he went to work that morning; when the roast chicken is brought on he can take one bite, put his lips to- gether and tell whether the meat has been in cold storage in New York or in Philadelphia. He himself is a wonderful performer with a carving set, and when he sits down before his plate of meat he can do a xylophone solo with his knife and fork. And he likes a glass of beer. He weighs two hundred and forty pounds and wouldn’t touch a plate of ice cream in Augnst for a deed to the Sandwich Islands. He holds that by auto-suggestion you can keep your collar stifF when the thermometer is frisking around 106; when the mercury is trying to climb out of the tube if you will but go through the motions of feeding gum-drops to the Esquimaux and repeat softly with feeling the poem, “Beautiful Snow,” you will have to get up and close the window to keep from catching cold. Dr. Wiley is one of the directors in the Non-Smokers’ Protective League of America, and believes that anybody who pulls a brier is going straight to the dogs, and knows to a certainty that the person who inhales a cigarette is tobogganing straight to that region where smoking is the order of the day. When the rest of the gang were slipping out behind the barn, rolling corn silk into cigarettes with a news- paper for a wrapper, and lighting the combustible with a sulphur match, Har- vey was having a regular debauch by himself in the garret of his own home, swinging one leg over the arm of the rocking-chair, chewing spearmint leaves and reading a dime novel. pm c Ry HOMER CKOY. DENROSE, BOIES. — Boies Penrose, the leader of the Republican Senate, is six feet three, and for five years has been trying to become a baseball fan. President Taft has taken him out and coached him through half a dozen games, but when Senator Pen- rose gets back he is sure to say, “That was a fine game; but I didn’t catch whether you said it was an American or European league.” He was born in aristocratic Spruce Street, Philadelphia, and has such blue blood coursing through his veins that when he cuts his finger it looks as though the indigo bottle had been upset. His father was a professor in the University of Pennsylvania and could stand Boies in the corner in French, spank him in Latin, lock him up in a Greek closet, and send him Sanskritless to bed. Boies was so young when he entered Harvard that the second day he was away from home he cried all night, and when he went to the barber shop the first time to be shaved — to be groomed for his graduation oration — his brother had to go along, hold his hand, and read two chapters to him from “The Lives of Our Heroes.” His graduation oration was on “Martin Van Buren as a Politician,” and contained thirty-seven French phrases, seventeen Greek idioms, twenty-two abalative abso- lutes, and a peroration in polysyllables. He is a man of his word; he would rather go to a double-header with La Follette than even indent his word. His favorite sport is horseback riding and he can sit a steed like a bronze of General Franz Sigel. He has not been inside a theater for thirty years and when he passes down the street in the theatrical section he shuts his eyes and puts his trust in the chauffeur. The Senator’s “History of the City Government of Philadelphia” is a weighty addition to literature, from the standpoint of lite- rary merit as well as that of avoirdu- pois. Senator Penrose is a Biddle and has a yacht named Betty. Any one who has even passed through the City of Brotherly Affection knows what it means to have an oil of a great-great Biddle on the parlor wall. A little, old Biddle is more to be prized than a brand-new, double-screw, steam Betty. SPORTING NEWS. A new record for Time — all former records broken. Primary Lessons in Geography. OCEANS. /^\CEANS are a vast waste of high- ly seasoned water, which keeps three -fifths of the globe out of the hands of real-estate agents. They are utilized by bathers, steamship lines, fish, and poets; but outside of that they are of little benefit to mankind. They first came into prominence when they were referred to by a writer of verse, who called them “Water, water everywhere, and not a drop to drink.” Conditions have changed, however, since this defi- nition of them was concocted, as drinks are now served on all oceans. The theory that the ocean is blue on account of the bluefish that inhabit it has been exploded by eminent scientists, who insist that its blueness is due to the fact that when it reaches the shore with a roll it immediately strikes the bars and gets broke. The oceans are a cause of great ex- pense to our government, which is attempting to fill them up with CARLETON G. GARRETSON, lnitructor. warships, torpedo boats, and other kinds of useless and expensive material. Many strange things are taken from the oceans. Pearls, devices used to help keep the unearned increment in circula- tion, are found there, but not in sub- marine mines, as one might think. Lobsters, one of our greatest sources of income, amusement, and indigestion, are found both in and out of the ocean. They are green and raw when discov- ered, and turn red when they are roasted. An ocean voyage has a strange effect on some people. Though regular tight- wads on shore, they are often ready and willing to give up everything when they come in contact with the generous ocean swells. Light housekeeping is carried on extensively all along the shore, also many other aquatic pastimes. The deepest spot on the ocean is near Denmark, the driest spot is Asbury Park, and the wet- test spot is Atlantic City. Now you know as much about the ocean as it is really safe for you to know. The class is dismissed. Instead of the Hatchet. Ella — “Are you and Bella friendly now?” Stella — “Yes; we have buried the hatpin.” The best of autos, run by men, Miss a spark or two now and then. oh, what’s the use?” DOMESTIC HARMONY IN UTAH. A Dozenette on the Pianorama. My N e w Year’s Resolutions. By CAROLYN WELLS. ESOLVED , that in the coming new year I will try to be less frivolous and try to write more for the uplift of the human soul, more for the extension of the higher plane, and more in a vein that shall tend toward the expansion of the ethi- cal culture of my fellow- beings. I shall strive for fundamental sincerity and sincere fundament- ally, and thus, on a higher biplane, endeavor to soar aloft. Resolved, that I will not, during the whole new year, even once parody “Abou Ben Ad- hem,” ‘‘The Blessed Damozel,” or the “Ru- baiyat. ” Resolved, that I will not write jingles on bridge, the suffrage, or hobble skirts. Resolved, that I will write fewer stuff, any- way. Resolved, that I will not lift points or ideas from the published work of my liter- ary friends. Resolved, that my work shall appear oftener in our best journals, and that I shall ask higher rates. Resolved, that I will economize on paper, ink, and two-cent stamps. Resolved, that (consequently) I will economize on candy, willow plumes, opera tickets and taxicabs. Resolved, that I will never allow anything of a personal nature about myself to appear in print. PUTTING HIMSELF RIGHT. Mrs. Scant — " Will you have another slice of cake, Robbie?” Robbie — “ No, thank you ; mother said I must refuse a second piece, ’cause you mightn’t have it to spare.” So Considerate. Peevish person (in crowded car) — “Madam, you have pricked my cheek with that barbarous hatpin !” Stylish woman — “ Don ’t be alarmed, sir! I ster- ilize it every day. ” Wise to the Game. Hotel clerk (blandly) — “Oh, yes, we havedollar- fifty rooms, but they’re all taken. ” Prospective guest (in a whisper) — “Where do the speculators do business?” A SCENE AT A NATIONAL CONVENTION OF THE FUTURE. Miss Chairman had considerable trouble calling the male delegates to order when Miss Peachly, the lady aspirant for presidential honors, came strolling into the hall From Judge’s Docket. By DONALD A. KAHN. DVICE is cheap, un- less one goes to an attorney for it. He who’s ever begging a match is a nuisance, but a lesser nuisance than the woman who’s always trying to make one. The man who wears a celluloid collar and the woman who paints fool no one but themselves. If a woman has repre- sentative neighbors, small is her need of news- papers. The other man’s word is an assertion, your word is truth, your wife’s law. If you buy a friend a drink, you are generous. FIRST-HAND KNOWLEDGE. Here comes my new papa.” ' That man? He isn’t so many.” How do you know ? ’ ” He used to be my papa.” If, in return, he buys you one, he’s a gentle- man. If, then, you both let it go at that, you’re both uncommonly sensi- ble. The man who is no- body’s friend makes few enemies. Difference. Knicker — ‘ ‘ Shakespeare calls sleep ‘Nature’s soft nurse. ’ ” Bocker — “Yes ; but she doesn’t try to marry rich old invalids.” May — “A stitch in time saves nine. ” Fay—" Yes; but you don’t want it to save so many, you don’t get a new dress. ” MULTUM IN PARVO. Son — “ That 's the Yale seal, pop ” Father — “ What 's it for ?" Son — “ Oh, to put on diplomas, and beer mugs, and things like that, you know ” An After Dirge. By GEORGE B. STAFF. B ROKE, broke, broke, Of my hard-earned “bor.es,” oh, gee! But it brings some relief to utter The thoughts that occur to me. Oh, well for the beautiful gifts, As they rest in a fair array! Oh, well for the haunting thought That intrudes, Does the whole thing pay? And the giving still goes on, As it has in the years gone by ; But the last of the merry holidays Brings again the same old cry : Broke, broke, broke! Not a single cent, oh, gee! And the dough that I spent for the Christmas gifts Will never come back to me. A Fellow Feeling. Knicker — “They claim to see frost on Mars. ” Subbubs — “Wonder if their water pipes burst?” Write your resolutions in fading ink. A Legal Mind. A Missouri lawyer prepared a will for an out-of-town client and dictated the following letter to accompany it: Dear sir — Please find inclosed will prepared in legal form. You will sign it in presence of two witnesses and re- turn it to us to b« laid away. A ,, & ^ SOMETHING NEW IN CLOTHES. The stenographer, who evidently had a surer knowledge of the ways of the law than of her notes, made the letter read: Dear sir — Please find inclosed will prepared in legal form. You will sign it in the presence of two witnesses and return to us to be lawed away. Are You With Us? We have an idea that is positively tremendous in its far-reaching possibili- ties. Step closer, please, while we whisper. Why should the suffragette ladies have a patent on their method of securing — or trying to secure — legisla- tion? Why, indeed! Weourselves have a dominating desire for the establishment of an American merchant marine. We think a ship subsidy bill might bring it about. We are looking for an ear- nest, aggressive, picked company of men holding a similar opinion ; we want them to join us some dark night and help us throw rocks through the Senate windows and, perchance, a brick or two into the private dining-rooms of certain House committee members. After this campaign has succeeded, we can start nut after a parcels post bill and a few other little things that are wanted. There is no reason why a persistent band of us can’t reform the country by this method — if the bricks ho|d out. I THE ORIGINAL BOY SCOUT. ►sir* \cz GRATITUDE. First actor “ Ah, my boy, I owe a great deal to that old lady.” Second actor — “ Vour motner ?” Firs! actor — ‘‘Heavens, No! My landlady.” A d j u s t i n By J. L. HARBOUR. “J DON’T like a seat at either end of the car, right over the wheels. One rides much more comfortably in the middle of the car, and I don’t like the last car of the train. It adds to the danger if there is a rear-end collision,” said Aunt Ann to Jenkins, her nephew, when he was getting her “settled” in the car for her homeward journey after she had spent six weeks of exacting de- mand in his home, from which she would long since have been asked to depart had she not been a childless widow with cash and stocks and bonds aggregating seven figures. ‘The next time I start for home from your house, James, I think I’d better see to getting the section in the parlor car myself,” continued Aunt Ann. “Drawdown the shade several inches, please. There is always more of a glare of light in the middle of the car than at the end, and — Won’t the shade come down? I don’t want to sit by a window with a shade that can- “ not be pulled down or pushed up. I am always wanting to change the position of the shade. Call the porter and see if he can’t fix the shade. Don’t jerk at it that way! You will only make it worse. You will —Don’t put that satchel in the rack, where I can’t reach it! I want it left on the seat by me. Be careful how you handle it! There are things in it easily broken. I wish that you had thought to get my sec- tion on the other side of the CD 1 car. You see that that is the shady s id**, and I never like to sit on the sunny side, and — ^ Get hold of the porter, if you can, and tell him that I shall want a couple of pillows just as soon as th •} train starts. I wonder if the sections in the middle of the car are all taken. See if you can’t get hold of the con- ductor and find out. I must say, James, that if you had had a little forethought you would not have secured the most undesirable section in the car for me, when you know — This was the only section left? Then why didn’t you apply sooner? I fear, James, that that is one reason why you have not been more suc- cessful in life. You are always a little late in doing everything. You sure you got just the right kind of a ticket? You know that I want one with stop-over privileges at Buffalo. You have made such an unfortunate blunder about my section that I can’t feel comfortable about the ticket. Oh, here’s the con- ductor! I’ll ask him, to make sure. Here, here, Mr. Conductor! Will you please look at my ticket before the train starts and see if it is all right? I want to stop over in Buffalo. My nephew here bought it for me and he has blun- dered so in getting my section that I was afraid he might not have got the right kind of a ticket. It’s all right, is it? I’m surprised that it is! Thank you. I am sorry, James, that you put me to so much trouble about my ticket. You sure you had my trunks checked just right? You know that — Phew! Tobacco! Mercy on us, James! if this section is not right up against the men’s smoking compartment ! And you know how I detest tobacco! I wish that I had allowed nephew Henry Smart to get my section and my tickets. He never would have made such a blunder as this. REFLECTION “ Since Nellie's engagement how bright and happy looks." “ Yes ; a match does light up a girl’s face so.” Can’t you look around a little and see if some man hasn’t a section in the middle of the car that he would be willing to exchange for this? Men don’t mind the smell of tobacco, and — I simply can’t ride here all day reeking in tobacco filth ! Put more of my things in the rack ! I don’t want them lying all around me. See if you can’t raise the window a lit- tle before the car starts and let in a little fresh air, and then look up the “ALL OUT!” Miss Quiggs — “ Did you see the old year oul ?" Mr. Jiggs Yes ; and it saw me out, too?” MISTAKEN IDENTITY. Youth (reading bill of fare) — " Is this spring chicken fresh ?” Waiter (looking at girl) — “ I couldn’t say, sir. I have never seen her in this restaurant before.” porter and — Another thing about this car is that it is the last car of the train, and there’s probably four or five between it and the diner, and it always makes me dizzy to walk even the length of one car when the train is in motion. Why didn’t you have them put up a cot out on the rear platform of the car for me and be done with it? I’d about as soon run on behind the train as have the last sec- tion at the rear end of the last car and — The train’s starting! Hurry off! The next time, James, that I put myself out to pay you a visit, I hope that — Good- by! Don't kiss me on the nose! I’d as soon be kissed on the back of my neck ! I must say, James, that you — Good- by! Well, I don’t expect to have a pleasant ride, sitting here reeking in tobacco smoke and bumped up and down and in terror of a rear-end collision and three miles from the diner and — Good- by! The next time I want a berth, I’ll— Good-by!” The Winning Way. If you would win what you have in view, As the world’s great victors have won, Don’t always do what you want to do, But do what you want to have done. The good resolutions made at New Year’s make many miles of paving. Uncle Doodie’s Own Corner. By CAROLYN WELLS. Friend Cecylle — I’m glad you wrote to ask my advice, for I know of just the loveliest gift for your fiancee that costs almost nothing. First, you make a bag of cheesecloth, about medium size — or, if you prefer, you can crochet a bag. (A very inexpensive way to do this is to crochet it of bits of string that have come round bundles. The finer the string, the better.) If you crochet it, the rule is : Purl three, narrow four, slip, widen, bind. Repeat four times, and back again. But if you make the cheesecloth bag, you may decorate it by working on it the lady’s initials or an appropriate motto. Now for the secret of the bag, and it is really a clever one. You are to fill this bag with cedar chips which you have saved from sharpening your lead pencils ! Of course you should have be- gun several years ago to save your chips — that is, unless you use a good many pencils. What is this for, you ask, Friend Cecylle. Why, it is a bag for the lady to put among her furs as a preventive of moths ! Are you not de- lighted? — for, you know, there is noth- ing like cedar chips to keep moths out. A pleasing motto to work on the bag would be, “What Is Home without a Moth Bag?” If my instructions are not clear, Friend Cecylle, do write me again. “What is the matter with Jones? He used to be a modest sort of fellow, but lately he seems almost bursting with self-importance. ” “Haven’t you heard? Mrs. Jones is suing another woman for alienating his affections, and puts the damages at fifty thousand dollars.” “ Want to buy a parrot, lady ?” " Does he swear?” “ This one don’t, lady ; but I 've got one aboard the ship as is a wonder — and only a dollar more !” O MPA notice OWING To TH UNSETTLED CONDlT A 10 % Redocti IM WAGES WILL E FF EC T AFTER TH* S DATE . ^ “AN OLD SIGN OF THE TIMES!" Cartoon suggesleJ to Judge by an automobile manufacturer employing over 10.000 men. “ THE HONOR OF YOUR PRESENCE WITH LADIES IS REQUESTED.' Straight Shots. From the gun of DONALD A. KAHN. ’ I 'HE School of Experience gives no engraved diplomas, but one has lit- tle trouble identifying her graduates. The Successful Man was out and on the job long before Opportunity came a-knocking. And this same Opportunity, by the way, is ofttimes disguised as Hard Work. A good Indian is a dead Indian. But a dead Indian doesn’t do much for his country. Optimism is a virtue — if it is not al- lowed to usurp the place of Industry. Tell me what you eat, and I’ll tell you where you work. The time to take a brace is several days before the day before yesterday. “ Playhouses a Specialty.” Kent — “So your son is working his way through Yale? What’s his side line?’’ Flint (grimly) — “I hear he’s one of the directors of the New Haven House Wrecking Company!” Detecting by Increased Weight. Mrs. Clawson — “Why do you always weigh each of your two cats before you leave the house?” Mrs. Mussett — “So I shall know which one to punish if I come home and find my canary has disappeared.” As Usual. My last year’s calendars I shelve, But now and then I mention heaven* When in the place of 1912 From habit I write 1911. * The other place won’t rhyme. THE STORY OF NEW ENGLAND. MM < CHAPTER I. KMi Ut CHAPTER II. -Mg* 3 rjtf- CHAPTER UI. CHAPTER VI. Those Short-lived Swearoffs. Now we make our resolutions. Each decides strong drink to shun. We’ll improve our constitutions — Yea, we’ll swear off, every one! Evermore we’ll man the wagon, And cold water we will seek Rather than the foaming flagon. Say, d’you think we’ll last a week? A Special Inducement. A prominent society woman was attempting to procure the serv- ices of a well-known opera singer as a drawing card for an approach- ing “at home.” “But I cannot possibly afford to pay you more than half of that figure,” she ob- jected. “Then I fear that I cannot serve you. I never reduce my price,” was the answer. Finally the society woman said, “Well, if I pay you that enormous price, I shall not arrange for you to meet my guests socially, as I had intended.” “Ah! if you will promise that, ” said the prima donna, her face brightening, “I will be pleased to sing for you at the lower fig- ure. ” Naughty Jack. Little Jack Horner stood in the corner, But he wasn’t devouring pie; For there to repent for a sin he was sent. And he said, “What a bad boy am I !” In Modern Guise. A stitch in time saves embarrassment. An unwise son maketh a mad father. All things come to him who waits — at least verbally. ’Tis more blessed to give than to re- ceive — slams. A rolling stone gathers momentum. By their boots ye shall know them. When in Rome order spaghetti. The pay ’s the thing. The paths of glory lead but to the so- ciety editor. — R#km Gilmore Stoll. A Classic Instance. When Handel had insomnia, In place of counting sheep, He wrote a lullaby, and so Composed himself to sleep. ’Tis sweet to love, but, oh, how sour To love a girl with scanty dower! The Flag and the Faithful. By WILLIAM J LA MPT OS. (A Washington woman has made a loud outcry to the Sec- retary of War to reprimand the soldiers at the government aviation station for burying their faithful dog. “Muggsie." wrapped in the Stars and Stripes ) Ah, Muggsie, good and faithful dog! Gone to your rest ! You served your country and your flag The very best That lay within your humble power, And in that far Have been much better than some men And women are. As you had lived, good dog, you died, And it is meet The flag you served your best should be Your winding sheet. Trust Them for That. Since the trusts got into control, the law of supply and demand still works. There is, however, always demand enough to raise prices, but never supply enough to lower them. A Row with Books. G . ARRET, Reviewer [In this department are criticized, usu ally unfavorably, all books, periodicals, pamphlets, posters, and printed matter of whatsoever nature. Nothing sent us will be returned, no reviews already pre- pared by the authors will be given atten- tion, and no bribe (unless very larg« ) will assure the sort of comment desirable to the publishers of the matter reviewed.] “Essay on Silence,” by Theo Dore. A very wordy book, in which the author shows an utter lack of familiarity with his sub- ject. Some of his other published works indicate just as clearly what silence consists of; therefore it is difficult to see why this one was written. It is to be hoped that no reader will waste his money on “Silence. ” “Why Women Should Not Vote,” by Harry Capman Chatt. This is not a book at all, but a scratch pad. The only lines worthy of mention contained in it are ruled lines The work may be had at all good stationers. “How To Tell a Good Play from a Lemon,” by Al. N. Dahle. An excellent character study and au- tobiography of the author, but the subject suggested by the title of the book is not touched upon, ex- cept in an appendix. This can be operated upon and removed if found painful to the playwrights to whose offerings it refers. “The Good Accomplished by the Last Session of the State Legis- lature,” by Lickem Stuffins. This book contains no reading matter to speak of and but one illustration, as follows: O. It has been strongly criticised by the great authority, T. Murphy Hall, but, in the vernacular, every knock is a boost; hence it may become popular. “Why I Have Stopped Building Libraries,” by A. N. Drew. A sad tale of dissolution and misfortune, most of which was taken from the minutes of the Supreme Court. The book has an excellent moral and should be a best seller. “The Great National Waist, and What To Do about It,” by W. H. Daft. In this book is advocated the conserva- tion of moving expenses by making no changes in the tenancy of the White House in 1912. The book is meeting with more or less adverse comment. The International Good Resolutions Club is now holding its annual session. MR. AND MRS. BARNYARD-FOWL GIVE A RECEPTION. WORTH THE COST. “ Can I trust you with an important message, my boy?” “ You sure can, boss Wot is it, love, finance, or high jinks ? ’Cause high j.nks I charges for ” Culinary Comments. \/OUR refrigerator won’t * be cold if you are cold to the iceman. The most expensive reci- pes are often found in the cheapest cook books. Even if your husband isks for a rare steak, he doesn’t want one that isn’t well done. When you make an in- ventory of your kitchen fix- tures, don’t, unless you are the lady yourself, include the cook. Should your husband re- fuse to indulge in the culi- nary delicacies that you originate, don’t feel bad; he won’t. Endeavor to bear in mind the fact that a pudding should not be made so it will be best served from a tureen. If salt water leak from the freezer into the ice cream, don’t mourn and don’t throw the mixture away; warm it up for cream gravy. While remembering that a man’s heart is reached by his stomach, don’t forget that his dys- pepsia is reached in the same manner. If your husband brags of his forbear- ance, wait till eggs are selling for eighty cents a dozen, then make a sponge cake every day. Boast all you wish of the healthful- ness of the food you prepare, but don’t, at the same time, have your cook book “ALL BUT—.” sandwiched between such volumes as the “Family Doctor’’ and “How To Cure Indigestion. ” Try not to feel puffed up with a feel- ing of generosity when you give tramps donations from bakings that are flat failures. Don’t flatter yourself that your splen- did cooking impels your husband to take all his meals at home; he may have ex- hausted his credit at the restaurant. If you find, the evening before your husband must take an early morning train, that the alarm clock is broken, give the man a good, big, hearty dinner of Welsh rabbit. Before you serve a meal which you are sure will be disappointing, don’t fail to greet your husband with more than your usual show of affection. This procedure on your part may ward off some of his exasperating comments. Easy. Poverty — “Did you have any trouble flying out of the window?” Love — “Not a bit! A suffragette smashed it for me.” The Fastidious One. By WILLIAM J. LAMPTON. Twilight had let her cur- tain fall and pinned it with a star, as the man in the motor car, wrapped and furred against the sharp cold, spun along the coun- try road. At a turn he came upon a tramp sitting on a sheltered log, asleep or frozen. It was up to him not to let the homeless one freeze to death, and he went to his rescue. “Here!” he said, shak- ing him ; “here ! Wake up! You’ll freeze! Come along with me !” The tramp straightened up, rubbed his eyes, looked at the man and the car waiting in the road, and shook his head. “Aw,” he growled, “go on and lemme alone! This is no kind of a night to be riding around in an open car. ” New minister — “How old are you, little man?” Slum child — “I ain’told; I’s five years young.” New Year’s. It’s a fading institution, For, when all is said and done, Don’t we treat each resolution With the accent on the “Shun”? ALSO, A LOBSTER. “ Pa, what is a boob ?” “ A boob, my son, is a lemon’s affinity.” Looking Upward. (In 1999) — “Marie, bring out the aeroambulator and take baby up for an airing.” A New Year’s thought: We make ’em to break ’em. Christmas Circular Letters AS IS well known, the bestower of Christmas gifts rarely knows what to bestow, while the bestowed upon is, upon receipt of the bestowed, disgusted both with the bestowed and the be- stowee. How may these marring circum- stances be avoided? By a very simple and sensible plan, whereby every pro- spective giver of gifts will be put in touch with the wants and don't-wants of his friends, by means of circular letters setting forth the same. These letters, it can readily be seen, will eliminate much of the trouble and dissatisfaction attending the Christmas season, and their judicious use, with such modifica- tions as are necessary, will not only bring about a better state of things for their senders, but will have a tendency to greatly relieve the troubles and wor- ries, and mayhap retain the sanity, of their recipients. These missives should be mailed about December 15th, and should read in substance as follows: December 15th, 1911. Dear Mr. (Mrs or Miss) — As we once more approach the gift-giving holiday period, I, with the idea of doing what I can toward bringing about a less worri- some and more joyous feeling in the hearts of my friends, write you (and the others) this letter. The fundamental evils which the let- ter aims to overcome are as detailed below. You have, during many past seasons, done me the honor to send me a Christ- mas present, and you have without doubt given the selection of a suitable gift much worry and nerve-racking consid- eration, only to burden me in the end with something for which I did not care and for which I had no use; I, in my turn, have had the same difficulties to overcome in the selection of a gift for By HARVEY PEAKE. you, which you no doubt disliked as greatly as I did the one you sent to me. Now, it has occurred to me that the application of a little common sense to this problem would prevent it from be- coming an annual calamity, and would, in a measure, restore to the gift-giv- ing custom its original and intended charm. With this end in view, and that you may know clearly what I want and what I don’t want, I append two lists (with approximate prices attached in the “Things Wanted” column), that you, in your selection of a gift for me, may be governed thereby : "THE ETERNAL QUESTION” (just at present) . Thing s Not Wanted : 1. Cut-glass ink well. 2. Velvet slippers, with embroidered rosebuds. 3. Pale-violet necktie. 4. Bronze candlestick. 5. Hand-painted ash tray. 6. “The Secret of Wealth,” bound in red morocco. 7. Pink silk pajamas. 8. Subscription to the “Missionary Tidings.” 9. Pearl-handled manicure set. 10. Pink satin pincushion in the form of a leg. Things Wanted : 1. Piano tuned ($2). 2. Two suits of union underwear ($5). 3. Plaster crack in bathroom ceiling mended ($1.50). 4. Order on the barber for haircut, shampoo, and shave (75 cents). 5. Kitchen clock overhauled ($1). 6. Receipted gas bill for November ($4.80). 7. Coal to any reasonable amount. 8. Subscription to the “Sporting World” ($3). 9. Corkscrew (10 cents). 10. Oak timber for mending dining- room chairs, in the form of two legs ($1.50). Knowing that you will have the ‘com- mon sense to see the practicability of this method of procedure, and awaiting a similar communication from you, I am, Yours with the season’s compliments, John W. Levelhead. To the Manner Born. Jones was born with a silver spoon In his mouth, if reports are true. To judge by the way He eats every day, He was born with a knife there, too. Began the New Year Well. Hill — “I began the new year well.’ 1 Dill — “How was that?” Hill — “Why, I wasn’t sick when it was ushered in.” “ BETWEEN TWO FIRES.” As to Santa Claus. By JOHN KENDRICK BANGS. S O FULL of love doth he appear For all our countless human legions, I'm not at all surprised to hear He lives up in the Heartic Regions! At Christmas Time. Christmas is the time of the year when you make your friends Christmas pres- ents, expecting to receive gifts twice as valuable from them ; And when you discover that you have more friends than it is temporarily con- venient to have, and that race suicide is a myth; And think how much better you might be than you are, and how much better you are than you believed you were, and how much better, also, the other fellow is than you gave him credit for being, and how much bet- ter the world is than you thought it was ; And feel that there is something more of you than the purely physical and material; And that a Home and Family are worth having and the Heart a reality; And when a dollar seems to be less than a cent, and it’s a greater puzzle than ever how to make one dollar do the work of ten; And when everything looks different and sweeter than it does at any other time; And when anyone who does not feel the Christmas Spirit must be insane or an iceberg; And when you think how glorious it would be if we all felt and practised the Christmas Spirit 365 days a year instead of only one; And can’t give any good reason why we should not, Except that desiring continuous hap- piness, we haven’t sense enough to take the only road to it. — Henry Waldorf Francis. “ Throw Physic to the Dogs.” The man who bothers the doctor with an imaginary disease may have to pay for an imaginary cure. Human Nature. Crawford — “Most persons seem to hate the business they are in.’’ Crabshaw — “That would account for all the fellows who are trying to mind other people’s business.’’ What Was the Girl’s Name? By WILLIAM J. LAMPTON. What care I though the grass be green, And the fields of grain as well ; And the leaves of the trees on wooded hills And deep in the shaded dell? What care I though the skies be blue As the summer skies may be, And the sunlight fall in azure streams On a smiling sapphire sea? What care I though the coming dawn Be purple and gold and red, And the night that follows the day be black And lowering overhead? What care I though the mountain crags Be gray against the sky. And the rainbow lift its splendors up In a seven-hued curve on high? What care I though the snow be white In the fields and on the town? What care I for the world’s colors cheme, When all I can see is Brown? Probably. Witts — “What do you suppose would happen if an earthquake should hit New York, laying every building in ruins and tearing great holes in the ground?’’ Bitts — “All the natives would prob- ably lean over the improvised fence and say, ‘Goodness! what a lot of building going on this year.’ ” Resemblance. Knicker — “Which side of the house does the baby resemble?’’ Bockei — “The mortgage; he costs so much. ” A Judge at home is worth two in the reading-room. The Benedict. The Bachelor. “ TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS ” Christmas — What and Why. By CARl.ETON G. GARRETSON. /""HRISTMAS is by far the most seri- ous holiday of the year. It was in vented by the Retail Merchants’ Federa- tion as a means of affording an outlet for their shopworn and returned miscell- any. It is supposed to be a season of joy, but to the man behind the checkbook it re- sembles a toothache, in that the only real joy connected with it comes when it is entirely over. Its greatest value lies in the fact that it gives you an opportunity to compare your taste with that of your relatives and friends, to their serious detriment. Christmas is a boon as a means of education. One would never know of the existence of millions of curious and obsolete brands of cigars, neckties, haberdashery receptacles, and literature were it not for this annual period of scientific research. The first symptoms of Christmas ap- pear weeks beforehand. Elevator boys become docile and in some cases actually obliging, employes suddenly grow anx- ious to earn at least a portion of their salary, children show an alarming inter- est in Sunday-school work and a startling willingness to mind their parents, em- ployers noisily shed tears at the discov- ery that adverse business conditions will make it impossible for them to place extra five-spots in their employes’ envel- opes this year, and wives make a Mara- thon run on husbands’ bank accounts, resulting in intense suffering and occa- sional eruptions. Poets and humorous paragraphers break the union time schedule, and manuscript goes and comes at a furious rate, decreasing the author’s bank roll and the postal deficit. You can tell when the great day dawns by looking at the calendar. The date is printed in red. There is a movement on foot among the Ultimate Fund Furnish- ers to change this custom, having the 1. Ethel — “ Dear me ! This Christmas gift business is such a bore ! Last year Grace sent me a present, and I was so pro- voked because I did not send her one that I positively must not forget her this time.” 2. Grace — “ Oh, dear, how provoking ! Here ’s a present from Ethel. I wish she hadn’t sent it, because I failed to send her one I simply must run out and get her something to re- ciprocate before the stores close. Isn't it maddening 1” THE CHRISTMAS SPIRIT. ordinary days printed in red and Decem- ber 25th in black. On the night before, the children hang up their stockings, and, as a result, their fathers often hang up the grocers and the landlords for weeks to come. Mothers prepare special feasts with great pains, which the children bear as bravely as they can. The day is followed by a short period of convalescence, during which toys are conscientiously broken or put where they will do no further harm, and misfit plunder is hidden in the attic or given to the Salvation Army. Christmas is now celebrated in all civilized parts of the globe, and also in Philadelphia, Albany, and Lincoln, Neb. It is ushered in by the ringing of church bells, door bells, and telephone bells, and ushered out by the ringing of doctors’ bells. It comes only once in a year, and stays but twenty-four hours; therefore let us all join in giving three rousing, lusty cheers for the merry, merry Christmas-tide. Mary’s Lamb Some More. The little lamb that Mary had, With fleece as white as snow, Maybe ’twas bought in Wall Street, Where lambs are “fleeced,” you know. UNCLE SAM SANTA CLAUS’S PRESENT FOR SOMEBODY NEXT YEAR. WANTED TO EXCHANGE. Special C'liristuius Announcements. X WIDOW LADY with seventeen children, and ™ no income, will exchange a brand-new baby- grand piano, received at Christmas, for eighteen tons of stove coal, and three thousand six hundred and fifty ham sandwiches, to be delivered at the rate of ten a day for one year. Address, Dead Broke. Box 4532, Bronx. TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN: The under- ■ signed, a veteran of the war. who left both legs on the field of battle, will be glad to hear from any- one having a pair of cork legs for which he has no use and is willing to exchange the same for three dozen pairs of red, white and blue socks which have not been removed from the original package in which they were received on Christmas morning. Write or telephone to Veteran, No. 13, Hard Luck Square, Teetaugus, Conn. X YOUNG MAN playing in hard luck will ex- n change his prospects for a cash present from a penurious uncle for a certified check for one dollar, and no questions asked. Last Christmas said uncle's gift was three dollars. Fine chance for persons not afraid of taking a long shot. Answer before Christ- mas. Thomas Giddybody, Crackerjack Club, New York City. A POPULAR GENTLEMAN in reduced circum- ” stances will exchange one velveteen smoking- jacket, one silver-mounted hair brush and comb, three platinum ashtrays, a German silver horseshoe searfpin. studded with best French plate-glass brilliants, one plated cocktail shaker, five copies of Boozleum's Latest Rules of Auction Bridge, seven- teen embroidered sofa cushions, and a handsomely bound copy of Lucille, for enough cash to meet one overdue gas bill, two months house charges at his club, and a small payment on a tailor’s account. The above articles are brand new having been received as Christmas presents within the past forty-eight hours from relatives and friends. Address. Bache- lor. General Post Office. UAS ANYBODY any use for a handsomely em- broidered motto in pink and yellow flosa framed in black oak, and reading. "Cheer up the worst is not yet but soon!" Will accept anything in ex- change that has any earthly use. J. P. W., Box 8943, Squeehawkett, Mass. MAKING A MONKEY OF CUPID, NOTHING TO WEAR. Montmorency’s Misfit Christmas. TOW’D his whiskership treat you?” * 4 asked Timmie Brady, the news- boy. “What’d yuh git fer Christmas?” ‘‘To put it in plain, rough language,” replied William de Puyster Montmorency, ‘‘I got the hooks.” ‘‘Chee,” chuckled Timmie. ‘‘Sore as a boil, ain’t you? Better lance it, Bill, an’ let de pizen outa yer system. I got time t’ listen t’ yer tale o’ woe before I mosey ’long to keep me appointment t’ lunch wit’ Taft an’ de British Embassa- dor.” Since the day he had blacked the Montmorency eyes and rubbed the arist- oci-atic nose in the dirt Tim had taken a comradely interest in the poor little rich boy. ‘‘You see,” said William,, who had evaded his tutor and come down to Tim’s corner solely to unburden his mind, ‘‘father and mother had to go and get sick the day before Christmas with some- thing catching, so I was sent to Aunt Nancy’s in the country.” ‘‘Yuh has me sympathy, pal.” Tim tendered a grimy hand. ‘‘I wuz out in de rhubarban districk once. It’s fierce. ” ‘‘Aunt Nancy said she would give me an old-fashioned Christmas. Really, Tim, a man can’t talk about a woman, you know, but it was ” William coughed delicately. ‘‘Uh-huh; dots and dashes, ” assented Tim understand ingly. By TERRELL LOVE HOLLIDAY ‘‘First, she tried to put over that old Santa Claus gag: made me hang up my stocking and go to bed at eight o’clock. Just fawncy !” ‘‘An’ yuh goin’ on twelve years!” ejaculated Tim. ‘‘And then, thinking I’d be crazy to see what Santa Claus had brought, she called me at five o’clock. Imagine! And I’m cross all day when my morning nap is spoiled. ” ‘‘Shure, ” agreed the newsy. ‘‘I couldn’t sell a double-murder extra if me valley woke me before five-t’ir- ty in de mornin’.” I protested that it lacked three hours of my time for rising, but Aunt Nancy looked so hurt I had to get up. She’s a good soul.” ‘‘Yep. Them’s de kin’ dat drives us men t’ drink.” ‘‘I slipped into my dressing gown and went down to look at my things. Of course I knew it was all a frost, but I had no idea — excuse me.” William leaned against the fire-alarm box. ‘‘I’m almost overcome at the recollection.” ‘‘Buck up,” urged Tim. ‘‘De woist is yet t’ come, as de wife-beater said w’en he broke his cane an’ went after a bed-slat t’ finish de job.” ‘‘The first thing I took out of that stocking was a red tin trumpet. Fawn- cy ! And I gave my silver-mounted cornet to the butler because I don’t care for such things. Next, I drew a toy music box that played ‘The Last Rose of Summer.’ Imagine that after listening to my one hundred and fifty-dollar gramo- phone, with grand opera records! Then there were gingerbread animals, nuts, raisins, and some mixed candy. 'And I never eat anything of the kind except marons glaces and Swiss milk chocolate, the imported. That American - made stuff is horrible. Last — brace yourself, Tim — a pair of red yarn mittens! Ugh, they made my flesh creep. I’ve worn nothing but Gautier’s, made in the Rue de la Paix, for years.” ‘‘Yuh certainly wuz up against it,” LONG DRAWN OUT “ What is the name of the swell with the monocle ?” “ I can’t remember it at the moment, but it 's one of those names like Jones-Jones, with a hyphen and an echo.” sympathized Tim, though it was evident his eyes twinkled. “And then that awful Christmas din- ner, which I had to eat for politeness’ sake. No shellfish, soup, green salad, ice nor wine — nothing but turkey, cran- berry sauce, baked squash, and so forth ; and pumpkin pie! Gad,” shuddered William, “ we haven’t had a pie in the house since father cornered the wheat market. ” “Poor guy,” said Tim, wiping his waterin mouth, “yuh must ’a’ felt like a cat bein’ choked t’ deat’ wit’ cream. Didn’t yer home folks give yer nuttin?” “Oh, yes,” answered the ill-used rich- ling, as spied his tutor coming. “When I returned home I found there the six- ninety torpedo body roadster, diamond sleeve links, and a few other trifles I wanted. But getting them so late, somehow it didn't seem like Christmas. ” A Hardy Perennial. J ACK FROST may be Cupid’s discloser, Warm-hearted in spite of his snow. And the kiss that in June is sub rosa, In December is sub mistletoe. — Katharine Perry. Book Reviewer Was “Broke.” “Do you recall what book had the least in it of any you ever reviewed?” “My pocketbook. Haven’t got a dol- lar with you, have you, old man?” Touching Suggestion. Departing guest. — “I’d gladly give you a tip, waiter, but I find I’ve only cab- fare left.” Waiter (benignly) — “Ah, sir, you don’t appreciate the beneficial effect of a good, after-dinner walk!” t The Defeat of Squelcher. ^ALMLY ignoring the sign AGENTS AND BEGGARS NOT ADMITTED the somewhat bedraggled little woman of five feet one and a half turned the highly polished brass knob of Squelcher’s office door and walked into the outer sanctuary, beyond which no one was ex- pected to pass until the name had been taken in to Squelcher. “Mr. Squelcher in?” asked the little woman of the boy in a green uniform with brass buttons. “He is, ma’am; but” “Then I will see him,” she said graciously, as she gently pushed the boy aside and opened the ma- hogany gate over which he was keeping guard. “But, ma’am, he doesn’t see people until” “That so, boy? You don’t say !” With this she approached the door of Squelcher and walked in. She was so palpably a forbidden agent that Squelcher’s frown would have caused cold chills to travel up and down the average spine, but it had no such effect on the little woman. “Good-morning, Mr. Squelch- er,” she said, with the air of a person addressing an inferior. “I hope you are well this morn- ing. But, then, any one ought to be well with such lovely weather as we are having. Such a nice, pleasant office as you have, once you get up here! That’s a fine rubber plant you have ! The leaves look so glossy and healthy, and there’s a new one coming out, isn’t there? I like to see plants in a man’s office. Shows refinement. It’s a theory of mine that when a man loves plants and flowers there can never be anything so very bad about him. You take a man that”— — “Excuse me, madam; but this is a very busy morning with me, and” “Of course it is! I wonder if there is any morning when you are not busy. Do you know that you look to me like a man who could never do anything else but keep busy? Seems to me you have ‘I do things’ written all over you. Then, of course, a man at the head of so many great enterprises as you are would naturally have little idle time on his hands. But, then, I am always busy myself; and, do you know, I am glad of it. I am a person who always likes to be doing something. That’s one reason why I took up canvassing. It puts one out into the world of action and sweeps you along with the great, restless, ir- resistible tide of — If you don’t mind, I will sit down. Thanks.” She helped herself to a chair before adding, “Your name, Mr. Squelcher, has been given to me as that of a person sure to be greatly interested in a set of books I am giving a few carefully selected per- sons the privilege of purchasing at a rate much less than that offered to the general public. This is because, Mr. Squelcher, we know the value of a name like yours on our books, and we — By the way, are you-related to the Squelch- ers of Chicago? 1 spent several weeks in Chicago last year and remember meeting some charming people named Squelcher. It’s an old English name, isn’t it? It has a kind of an English sound, and it seems to me that I once saw somewhere the Squelcher coat of arms. Now, where was it I saw that? I feel sure that I saw it somewhere, and it seems to me that the Chicago Squelch- ers said something about it to me. They were people of high intelligence and great refinement, and they took two sets of the book I have consented to act as agent for, partly because I think that it is a kind of a public benefaction to help disseminate really good reading matter in this day when there is so much that is poor and even perni- cious in circulation in the way of literature. The publishers of the set of books I am letting you see asked me this morning if I had yet given you the privilege of seeing the books, and I” “Beg your pardon, madam; but I don’t care to” “What a fine-looking young fel- low that is in the photograph in the frame on your desk ! Your son? Do you know that I was sure that it was your son the moment I looked at it? Resembles you very closely, but I should say that he had hardly your firmness of char- acter. His chin is not quite so square as yours, but that may change as he grows older. Any- thing I do admire in a man, it’s firmness of character. These men who are moved by every wind that blows claim little of my ad- miration or respect. One has only to look at you to see that you are a man of great force of character. And do you know that it really takes a man of that kind to fully appre- ciate a set of books like those I am let- ting you see? I want you to see the binding, because I am sure that it will appeal to a man of your superior and critical literary taste quite as much as the contents of the book. Do you know that I think that a beautfiul and artistic binding adds so much to the enjoyment of a book? I would rather have one handsomely and artistically bound book than a dozen books just as good in their real literary quality, but in poor and cheap binding. I knew that you would be interested in the binding as soon as I saw the artistic and harmonious effects in your office. The cute little office boy in the dark green suit and brass buttons exactly harmonizes with the rich, dark mahogany furniture. It is areal pleas- ure to allow a man of genuine taste the privilege of seeing this set of books. It is simply a casting of pearls before swine to show richly bound books to some men; but you — • Well, it is really a joy to meet a person who — Allow me! I want you to note the title page. We spent months on that title page alone, and” ‘‘I don’t want” “Of course you wouldn’t want any but this binding. We have three different kinds of binding, but only those in ordi- the books with the understanding that you will give us a letter saying what you think about them after you have read them. We shall value that far more than the fifty dollars you are so good as to pay for the books, although only a dozen or two of persons can have them at that price. Ten dollars to-day, please, and the rest when the books are deliv- ered. Thanks! It is really a pleasure to sell a gentleman like you a set of the books. So much discourtesy in the world that when one meets with a kind of a true Southern type of chivalry and courtesy it really lessens the burdens of life. Good-by, Mr. Squelcher. Don’t Zeus Goes A-riding. Ho, Hermes ! Catch my winged steed And bring him on the green. Vulcan ! Adjust his steering gear. Pluto ! Get gasoline. Please see his wings, Minerava, dear. Are in alignment straight; For I would use my monoplane — Pegasus up-to-date. Adam,. The Coroner Will Find Out. ‘‘I see another one of your patients is dead.” ‘ ‘ Yes ; and I am greatly perturbed over his case. I gave him two kinds of medi- cine and don’t know which one it was that killed him.” What « s life To me now.'* kiy mujuJ has Thrown ME OVE TOO* THAT UGl -T f HoBBue JKiRTED creature ^ f' u I,-; -Tut* is life, when ONE TJ-L <5 c-T J o up anjj ~7, <5 .. W PR i m rC t-"E AnO THE . a " T>T- yj) SKvj* Dust leak.s Z V *. ^ OUT AT the JRlNT-f. / ,1 _ * nary circumstances purchase any but this rich dark green and gold — a perfect match for your office; and Mr. Snapper, on the floor below, took this binding and said” ‘‘Snapper? Did he get stung for a set?” “Oh, you delightfully comical man! What a clever way you have of putting things ! A man of your keen and ready wit would appreciate so much in the books, for they are fairly bristling with wit and — ‘Did Snapper get stung for a set?’ That is so jolly! I have been told that you were one of the wittiest men in the city, and I can well believe it after — Will you write your name in my little subscription book right under Snapper’s? But I am letting you have rise to open the door for me. So glad to have made the acquaintance of one I have so long admired for his business sagacity and public enterprise. Do you know, I really think you would have made a splendid canvasser yourself? So irresistible in your arguments and so firm in — • Good-by ! Here is the cute little lad in his green and gold uniform, to show me out as politely as he showed mein. Nice boy! Good-by!” Sure To Get There: The Mrs. never misses Any bargain sale, For the female of the species Is more thrifty than the male. Always up-to-date — a calendar; but its days are numbered. Explained. “How do you explain the peculiar ac- tions of that suffragette?” “There’s a man in the case.” “But she’s married.” “Two men.” Reversing Things. Hewitt — ““What do you think of this suffragette business?” Jewett — “If it is carried to its logical conclusion, it will result in woman put- ting her money in her husband’s name.” CURRENT EXPRESSION. “ Down in black and white.” Wireless Subscriptions Always Welcome Santa Claus Bugle Edited by John Bendrick Kangs Weather Today: Bright and Cheerful Vol. I. Clausville, December 25, 1911. No. 1. Society Notes. Colonel Claus left Clausville late last evening in his new 1912 Reindeermobile, for his regular annual tour of the earth. Owing to the fact that the Claus cook left the family without notice and very suddenly on Tuesday last, Mrs. Claus was unable to accompany him. Miss Kriss-Kringle, of Clausville Cor- ners, gave a gumdrop party on Thursday evening to a number of her school friends back for the holidays. It was a very recherche affair and lasted until the wee, sma’ hours of the morning. A specially prepared gumdrop, warranted to last fifteen hours, was presented to each guest as a souvenir of a delightful occasion. Mr. Monkey-on-a-Stick, the famous athlete, accompanied by Major Zinc, of the YuletideTin Militia, have gone with Colonel Claus as guests on his annual tour of the Nursery Country. Their genial presence will be much missed hereabouts, where they have been ac- knowledged leaders in all the social gayeties of the season. a Mr. and Mrs. Woodenhead Noah were host and hostess at a reception in honor of their sons, Shem, Ham, and Japhet, at Arkville Park, on Wednesday even- ing. The cotillion, late in the evening, was led by that inimitable dancer, Kangar Roo, and his fair partner, Miss Elbe Phant. The favors were very hand- some, consisting of umbrellas, raincoats, and little reproductions of the Ark in miniature. The annual ball of the Daughters of the Yuletide will be held in the grand salon of the Ice Palace, on Holiday Square, on New Year’s Eve. Colonel Claus, who expects to return from his tour not later than to-morrow evening, has promised to be present. The ball bids fair to be the most brilliant event of an already brilliant season. A To-morrow afternoon, upon the return of Colonel Claus from his trip, he and Mrs. Claus will give their annual Yule- tide reception to the operatives in the Claus Gift Manufacturing Company, at which the colonel will deliver his cus- tomary address to the hands, after which j the profit-sharing checks based upon the j earnings of the year will be distributed. We understand, in confidence, that at the same time a loving cup made of solid sugar will be presented to the colonel as | a token of the high esteem in which he is held by his grateful employes. A Jack the Giant Killer and his cousin, Hop o’ My Thumb, who have been pass- ing the past three months in Clausville, writing their memoirs for the Yule Pub- lishing Company, left town last night, to return to their homes in Fairyland for the Christmas season. They have been very popular in Clausville society, Hop o’* My Thumb particularly having been in demand as an after-dinner speaker of rare quality. Society has been much excited during the past week by the rumored failure of the mistletoe crop, but the thoughtful act of the administration in ordering that any sprig of green hung in the right place will carry with it all the usual mistletoe privileges has done much to allay the fears of the younger set that some of the cherished customs of the season would have to be abandoned. «?• -*» Latest News from Earthland. The report that the custom-house offi- cials have received special orders to in- spect the luggage of the agents of Santa Claus upon their arrival at American ports, in search of contraband articles, is officially denied by the Treasury De- partment. A A telegram received from Washington last night announces that three thousand six hundred and fifty-seven sacks of mail, weighing forty-nine tons, ad- dressed to Santa Claus, are being held there for the colonel’s arrival. The President will place sixty-seven regi- ments of the regular army at Colonel Claus’s disposal, to enable him to cope with such an enormous correspondence. Over three thousand bogus Santa Clauses have arrived in various Ameri- can cities. They may be detected by the fact that in almost every case they wear cotton whiskers instead of beards made of real hair, and are abdominally spurious, an effect of obesity having been obtained by means of pillows, sofa cushions, and bolsters concealed beneath the belt. A punch in the stomach will speedily reveal to the public whether or not they are the real thing. A Much excitement has been caused in Chicago by the rumor that Santa Claus, owing to the absence of snow in that city, will arrive there in a Wright bi- plane, accompanied by a capable marks- man, who will drop the gifts designed for the youthful beneficiaries directly into the chimney-tops from a height of three thousand feet. The subscribers to that usually care- ful organ of illustrated public opinion, the New York Daily Blast, are having a great deal of fun at the expense of the | editorial staff for having printed in its issue of last Thursday a portrait of Mr. Andrew Carnegie as the latest author- ized photograph of Santa Claus. On their behalf it must be said that the error is not unnatural, owing to the ex- traordinary physiognomical resemblance of the two philanthropists. A recent dispatch from the North Pole brings the extraordinary statement that a sock bearing the laundry mark, “Cook, Brooklyn,” has been found tacked to the southern exposure of the Pole itself. Just how this will affect the recent con- troversy remains to be seen. BARGAIN COLUMN. 11/ILL EXCHANGE a thirty horse-power run- about in good condition and a complete set of the Congressional Record from 1901 to date for enough ready money to pay off a mortgage incurred to pay expenses of the former fur six months. As a special inducement to parties interested, will also throw in five umbrellas and seven gold-mounted ebony walkingsticks received last Christmas, and good as new, none of them having been used. Apply before January first to Distress, The Down and Out Trust Company, New York City. A CLERGYMAN living in the suburbs of Phila- delphia begs to announce that he will be glad to exchange thirty-eight pairs of red worsted slippers of various sizes and shapes for one good sized roast turkey, three pounds of cranberries, and a mince pie suitable for a family of seven, all blest wi»h good appetites. Apply at once to Rev. James X, Lock Box 8976, Wissahickon P. O. WHY CHRISTMAS IS MERRY. Primary Lessons in Geography. St. Louis. CARI.ETON G. GARRETSON, Instructor. CT. LOUIS, children, is in Missouri, but you should not blame this enter- prising city for that. It is going ahead in spite of its accident of birth. The Mississippi River passes right by one side of St. Louis without stopping, which seems strange, inasmuch as the city ranks fourth in population and is in every way a desirable stopping place. All the railroad trains stop there, how- ever, which is some compensation. The city is situated on a plain, 425 feet above the river and 1,270 miles above the Gulf of Mexico. The water supply comes from the river, which perhaps accounts for the fact that St. Louis con- tains the largest brewery in the world. You can reach the city by train, boat, telegraph, and telephone, and can also drop into it from an airship. The boats plying on the river first came to our notice many years ago, when a deckhand named Mark Twain discovered that they contained much humorous material. In these early days they attracted consid- erable attention on account of the many poker games and boiler explo- sions that took place on board. All of these historic events are now a thing of the past, but the river flows on still. (The class should see how many rivers they can think of that are flowing on still. ) In 1764 there was nothing but a trading post where St. Louis now stands. The old post is there yet and is used for hitching purposes and for displaying ad- vertisements. (Advertisements, chil- dren, are the things you see in the rear of this publication. If you did not see them, you would not see the publication.) The city has been visited by fires, floods, epidemics, the President, muck-rakers, suffrage speakers, tornadoes, political corruption, and other pestilences; but it has weathered them all and is perhaps the better for its harrowing experiences. As the breweries manufacture beer a little faster than it is consumed, some of it is exported. This is one of the city’s telling methods of publicity. St. Louis suffered an exciting catastrophe seven years ago in the form of an ex- position, but it has recuperated bravely. Its population is at present 687,029. One-sixth of these are Germans. The remaining 572,524 1-6 are of various other nationalities, the 1-6 being born right here in the United States. For home work the class may review this lesson, and then put down the most famous product of St. Louis. We hope to have a full attendance at the next session. His Dilemma. By MINNA IRVING. T HREE photographs upon the shelf Are standing in a row, All framed in silver filagree, Of girls I used to know, With dancing eyes, and smiling lips, And locks of blond or jet; I recollect their names were Maude, And Madge, and Violet. Now Vi, this morning, wrote to me A little note that said She much desired her picture back, Since she is soon to wed. I’d send it gladly, but, alas! I can’t, for I forget Which one is Maude, and which is Madge, And which is Violet! Strange. Knickei — “Memory is strange.’’ Bocker — “Yes; the landlord remem- bers to lay in cheap summer coal, but never remembers to have the boilers overhauled till after a cold snap.’’ jV/IEMBERS of all political faiths favor the recall when applied to certain actors. The Millionaire. By JOHN KENDRICK BANGS. T HE Christmas-tide approaches me And finds me ’mongst the mil lionaires; For though I have no £ s. d., I likewise have no cares. ’Tis true I have no bank account, There’s mighty little in my till ; But in my heart there is a fount Of unalloyed good-will. And though my pocketbook is low, Of gold and silver shows a dearth, There’s not a millionaire I know Has more of peace on earth. T KISSED beneath the mistletoe 1 The maid whose cheeks were painted ; But I kissed her lips, you see, and so The kisses weren’t tainted. YOUNG AMERICA IN ENGLAND. Teacher — “ Robert, can you spell hat ?” Robert — “ I can if I have two chances.” Scouts an’ a Lend a Hand Society an’ a Handicraft Society an’ the Good Samari- tans an’ the Helper’s Guild, we got con- siddable many clubs, after all. Each of ’em has a fair an’ a couple o’ entertain- ments a year, so there’s something goin’ on a good deal o’ the club time, even if the club movement ain’t hit us very hard yet.” 1 he Club Movement. SUPPOSE that your town is almost * too small for the club movement to have affected it much. A town of only eight hundred inhabitants seldom has many clubs, I believe,’.’ said the stranger within the gates of Cherrydale to the postmaster. ‘‘Well, we ain’t clubbed to death as some places seem to be; but when you come to count ’em up, we got consid- dabie many clubs for a town of our size. We got a Women’s Club o’ two hundred members, an’ a Village Improvement Club, an’ a Ladies’ Social Club, an’ a Friday Afternoon Club, an’ a big Choral Club, an’ a Current Events Club, an’ a Library Club, an’ a Dickens Club, an’ a Thought an’ Work Club, an’ a Art Club, an’ a mixed club that calls itself the progress Club, an’ a Danc- ing Club, an’ five whist clubs an’ a Euchre Club, an’ a Saturday Night Club. Then the W. C. T. U. an’ the Odd Fellows an’ the Masons an’ Knights o’ Py- thias an’ the D. A. R. an’ the G. A. R. an’ the Ancient Order o’ Hibernians an’ the Eastern Stars an’ the Sons o’ Temp’rance an’ the Christian Endeavorers all have societies here, an’ they are try in’ to start a Y. M. C. A. an’ a Y. W. C. A. Then with the Grange an’ the Boys’ Brigade an’ five churches an’ some Boy A TIME FOR EVERYTHING. “ Don’t eat so fast, Marion. That is not the way ladies behave.” “ Well, mother, I am awful hungry. I will promise to behave like a lady between meals.” QUITE A SHOCK FOR A Adaptability. Customer — ‘‘Why do you call this a common-sense diary?” Stationer — ‘‘After the first few pages it’s ruled like a memorandum book.” MAN WITH A WEAK HEART. BUBBLES. W HEN earth’s last present is posted and the ink is blotted and dried. When the Christmas roses have faded and the Christmas holly has died. We shall rest, and, faith! we shall need it — lie down for an eon or two, II the Master of Christmas giving shall set us to work anew. L’Envoi of Christmas Givers. (With profound salaams to Rudyard Kipline.) By LIDA KECK WIGGINS. And those who gave well shall be happy ; they shall sit in a rocking chair; They shall ’broider a cherub’s garments with flosses of angels’ hair. They shall find real friends to give to — seraphim, martyrs, and all; They shall fill up a million stockings hung over a garden wall. And only the Master shall praise us, and only the Master shall blame; And no one shall give for glory, and no one shall give for fame. But each for the joy of the giving, and each with a soul sincere, Will give the thing he holds precious to the friend that is really dear! 2. How would he know that a lady-shopper was buying her favorite perfume ? 3. '• Ah, ha !” MISJUDGED. 4. “Wretch!” Ye Fytte of Ye Old and New Loves. I TRIED to be off with the old love Before I was on with the new, But the old love she was a bold love, Who’d rowed on her college crew; And when she had heard of the new love — Alas! that my tale is true! — She walloped me black and blue, love — She walloped me black and blue ! And so I am back with the old love. By the old-time chimney flue — There’s nothing so cold as a cold love The universe through and through. And here I am dreaming of you, love, And what I shall whisper to you When I have got rid of my shrew, love — Ye gods ! if I ever do ! A. SUFFERAN MANN. Seeing Double. Conductor — “We’re traveling in two sections to-night.’’ Slightly intoxicated passenger — “Thatsh right. Justh what I’ve been trying to tell m’ friends. Of coursh you are, and I can see both shections of you, too, conductor.” She Didn’t Get It. u'T'HERE is a certain book in the A library that I want,” said Mrs. Sillyone to the librarian of forty thou- sand volumes. “I can’t recall the title nor the name of the author, but it is a book of probably three or four hundred pages, and it is bound in dark green and the title is in gold letters on it. It is a story of a nobleman who discovers, after he has married a lady of wealth and title, that he is a changeling and that a certain blacksmith in the town is the real nobleman. A friend of mine has read it and she is very anxious to have me read it. As I say, I cannot re- member the title of the book or the name of the author, but it is a book of about average size, and I wish that you would get it for me as quick as you can, for my husband is waiting for me in our car out in front of the library, and it always irritates him to be kepi waiting. I’d like the book right away, please.” Be not resentful at the misfit present. Puzzling. By C. LESLIE VAN EVERY. I’M NOTHING but a kid, I know; 1 If you don’t b’lieve that it is so, Why, you just go and ask my dad, And find out, too, if I am bad. He’ll speak right up and say to you, A better kid he never knew; Then turn around — I mean my dad — The Christmas Day when all are glad (An’ company is at our place, An’ ma has made me wash my face), An’ it is time for us to eat The turkey an’ the stuff that’s sweet. An’ pass a drum-stick to Aunt Kate, An’ dish the neck out on my plate. Now, I just know my head ain’t thick, But I don’t quite see through dad’s trick. Reconnoitered. 1V/IAMMA was dressing when seven- A 1 year-old Freddy burst into the room with a loud “Boo!” “Why, Freddy, dear,” expostulated she, “you mustn’t open my door with- out knocking! I mightn’t have been dressed at all !” “Oh, this was all right!” said Freddy. “I looked through the keyhole first.” SHE HAS THE BLUES, YET IS HAPPY. ENTER MR. BIGTIP. It ’s a Bird. Turtle and truffle, tradition has stated, Undoubtedly taste ultra-rare and unique; Reed-birds, by roues, recherche are rated ; Kickshaws kindle kings’ appetites weak. Every one to some edible’s mated, Yet — see the initials — ye yearly shall Seek ! — James Adams . -ET ■-»> A DOG-GONE SHAME. “ It ’s awfully annoying to be forced to carry such an 'omely beast ! ’ In Ohio. Visitor — “I suppose you fellows will vote as your fathers did."” Native (sadly) — “Nope; we won’t get a single cent for ours.” Knickei — “ ‘Rig business’ is any busi- ness that is successful.” Bocker — “And a ‘little girl’ is any girl you are in love with at the time.” Punkin Pie. By WILLIAM J. LAMPTON. ■"PHIS is the punkin-pie season — pun- A kin pie, mind you, not pumpkin pie. There is a culinary product known as pumpkin pie, and it arrogates this season to itself ; but it is merely an imi- tation of the genuine article, a fashionable fancy found on the tables of the cultured, who are more particular about their pronunciation than they are about their pie. In the good old days there were only punkin pies; but, with the advent of colleges, universi- ties, correspondence schools, and competitivedictionaries, society assumed the high- brow manner and announced that hereafter only pumpkin pie was good form. Of course that settled it for the punkin pie of our fathers, as farasits social position was concerned. But what is social position to a pie when it is punkin? Nothing whatever. Yester- day, to-day and forever, it remains the same. The cul- tured society growing up about us and pink-teaing out its frivolous existence may sniff at punkin pie and stick its silver knife into pumpkin pie; even the newspapersmay quote the word “punkin,” as though the press had quaran- tined against it; but, just the same, a punkin pie is a pun- kin pie, and all the pumpkins on earth can’t make it any- thing else. It is the embodied piety of the martyrs un- changed by persecution or pronunciation; and one good, old-fashioned punkin pie is better eating than the proud- est product of a pumpkinized civilization. The pumpkin may assume exotic airs and graces and swing its gold- en circles in the autumn sun, but scratch it under the skin and you will find it is a plain punkin and never was anything else. That is the only reason a pumpkin pie is fit to eat at all. NOT IN IT. “ Here is where I drop out of the race ! ” ENTER MR. SMALLTIP. Invention Needed, Mr. Edison ! Always Possible. By GRACE McKINSTRY. (While the appearance of crinoline towns in Paris may excite forebodings, the New Yorld World does not think hoop-skirts will s ay revived " They are not adapted to modern conditions of congestion.” it says,) P ERHAPS there’s little question That modern street congestion Would sometimes interfere with hoops; but if some way is found To shut them, like umbrellas, Our Janes and Isabellas, By closing them in crowded cars, could wear them, I’ll be bound! Stella — “You can’t put an old head on young shoulders.’’ Bella — “But you can put a new waist line on any aged woman.” Advice to Employes. Earnest young wan — “Have you any advice to a struggling young employe?” Frank old gentleman — “Yes. Don’t work. ” J WHY GIRLS LEAVE HOME. Earnest young man — ‘ ‘ Don ’ t work?” Frank old gentleman — “No. Become an employer.” Watered Silk. L ITTLE drops of water, In the can of milk, Bring the milkman’s daughter Pretty gowns of silk. A Drawback. Sage — “Know thyself.” Cynic — “What’s the use? It’s not an acquaintance from whom you can borrow money.” Ran in the Family. Mrs. Jenks— “Mr. Billington is such a nice man and not at Edith — “ Oh, dear me ! I wish we were home again ” Ethel — “ I don’t. Remember how we used to do dishes for a family of twelve?" Growth of the Farm. W E NOTICE the jokes about farmers grow less, For the farmer himself has grown smart, as you guess; And he grows bigger crops by r. very great deal, So he grows rather wealthy and buys a ’mobile ! By a Combination. IN SPITE of the complaint over high 1 prices, it is generally agreed that silk stockings should be kept well up. all shy that I really can’t under- stand why he remains a bach- elor.” Mrs. Tolker (absent-mindedly) — “Oh, I presume it is hereditary. His father and grandfather before him were bach- elors probably.” Looking Too Oft. »wice . . . V ... seen too oft, familiar with its face, We first endure, then pity, then em- brace.” And so it is with fashion’s freaks. We hoot, We tolerate, and then we follow suit. — Terrell Love Holliday. The Recipe. B y JOHN KENDRICK BANGS W HO HOLDS the love of fellow-men Secure within his heart for aye, Who uses mind and voice and pen To spread good-will along the way, Who seeks to give all others peace, To set the whole sweet world in chime, Will find the joys that never cease And endless Christmastime. Alarming. DOBINSON, the aviator, who, flying from St. Paul to New Orleans, dropped a bolt from his machine at an altitude of three thousand feet, alarmed the spectators, who imagined that Robin- son himself was falling. There is other cause for alarm, however, in the inci- dent. A bolt falling from that altitude is moving at the rate of four hundred and forty feet a second when it stops. Old-time cannon could give no harder blow. Anything struck by such an ob- ject would be converted into fragments. The risk of such occurrences will per- haps become serious, especially in fre- quented air lanes over inhabited regions. People will have to live in cellars or stringent regulations will have to be made for their protection. No Chances. Tommy — “I don’t believe there’s a Santa Claus, and I’m going to tell mamma so, too. ” Willie — “Are you really?” Tommy — “Yes, I am — the day after Christmas.” Compromise. Knicker — “Trou- bles never come sin- gly.” B o ckei “No ; sometimes they come divorced. ” GOSSIP. “ My husband says he hopes to see the time when every man will own an automobile “ What is your husband’s business ?” “ He is a divorce lawyer.” BARRIERS. “ Is there anything between you and Miss Van Doh ?” " Only her father and mother.” Business. CHE WAS a sentimental ^ young girl and had de- voted much time and tender thought to the home decora- tions for Christmas. Her surprise may be imagined when she came downstairs one morning and found the decorations moved around. The mistletoe boughs, .that had been half hidden in se- cluded places, had been sub- stituted for the holly wreaths and were now hung in the front windows, in plain view of passers-by. “Say, sister,” explained her little brother, “you’ve had that mistletoe hanging up for nearly a week and you haven’t had a single cus- tomer. You’re not up-to- date. What you want to do is to advertise. ” Christmas Conviction. By LA TOUCHE HANCOCK I’M GETTING bald, I am extremely *■ stout, And do not hesitate To say that Santa Claus is getting out Of date. This present-giving is quite overdone, This tipping is a sin. “Merry,” indeed! I don’t see where the fun Comes in. I’m very weary of this festive scene Of peace and joy, Yet I suppose that once I must have been A boy. Maybe these pleasures then were my delight. You ask me, “Why not now?” Well, how to feel the same I do not quite Know how. Yet in this grumpy state I must confess I am alone, And so I’ll make the others’ happiness My own ! Forestalled. Christmas Aphorisms. By HARVEY PEAKE \JEVER look a gift in the cost mark. Mistletoe makes the heart grow fonder. All that glitters is not a diamond. Belief in Santa Claus is the best policy. The gift deferred maketh the heart sick. Invitation is the sincerest flattery. Christmas bills are stubborn things. Buy gifts in haste and repent at lei- sure. And thereby hangs a stocking. Gifts are seldom what they seem. Every Christmas tree must stand on its own bottom. Uneasy lies the head that’s planning gifts. Santa Claus is not as red as he is painted. One Christmas bargain sale makes the whole of womankind spin. Gifts make the man, the want of them the fellow. To give hideous gifts is human, to forgive impossible. Of two undesirable invitations to din- ner, choose the least. It is a wise merchant that knows his own goods when it is brought back for exchange. What is sauce for the goose is not' sauce for the plum pudding. [ ONG stockings are quite popular just now. Deo Gratis. T HE VISITS of St. Nicholas No longer cause regret, For I’ve learned to be real thankful For the gifts I didn’t get. IT’S NICE just now to think of Christ- * mas joys, Of mistletoe, and how she must adore you; But there is nothing half so much annoys As when you find your rival there be- fore you. _____ MAGNETIC ATTRACTION. “ Ella seems to attract the'men, doesn’t she?” “ Naturally, her father is a big steel magnate.” 4j'k AL Why? <