THE WIT & HUMOR 
 
 OF A NATION IN 
 PICTURE, SONG & STORY 
 
 ILLUSTRATED BYAMERICA'S GREATEST ARTISTS 
 
 SPECIAL EDITION
 
 
 ./'V..-
 
 CARICATURE 
 
 (FOURTEENTH 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 
 Penrhyn Stanlaws 
 
 F. NanWvel 
 S. Werner 
 "Gus" Dirks 
 F. L. Fithian 
 " BB " Baker 
 J. H. Smith 
 Sydney AdamsoA 
 Peter Newell 
 H. C. Greening 
 C. T. Anderson 
 
 Burges Johnson 
 W. J. Lampton 
 EL K. Munkittrick 
 
 Illustrated by 
 
 Frank Snapp 
 Arthur Lewis 
 
 Geo. Herriman 
 Geo. R. Brill 
 
 Poems and Stories by 
 Tom Masson Edwin L. Sabin 
 
 W. D. Nesbit Edward W. Barnard 
 
 Frank H. Brooks Eugene Geary 
 
 J. Conacher 
 W. M. Goode* 
 H. M. Wilder 
 J no. Cassell 
 Hy Mayer 
 C. J. Taylor 
 T. S. AUen 
 Bob Addams 
 Albert Levering 
 Malcolm Strauss 
 F. H. Ladendot 
 Charles Sarka 
 R. S. Bredin 
 Albert Bloch 
 Bert Levy 
 V. A. Soboda 
 Fred Lewis 
 Gordon Grant 
 C. Knowiton 
 
 Carolyn Wells 
 Henry Tyrrell 
 and others 
 
 LESLIE-JUDGE COMPANY, 225 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK 
 
 1911 
 
 Copyrieht, IQOS, by Judge Compaar, 33^ Pifth AveoDe, New York
 
 ANOTHER ON THE WIRE. 
 " Kilty, I love you. Is there any chance for me ?" 
 " I'm sorry, Jack ; but the line "s busy.'"
 
 Mr. Hicket Retires 
 
 By William John Barr Moses 
 
 MR. HICKET didn't look it. He was a rather 
 stout, flabby, middle-aged man, with a low 
 forehead, oily black hair, small, blue, blood- 
 shot eyes, an angular nose, pufly lips, big 
 ears, a complexion bluish white, mottled red and purple, 
 and a mouthful of irregular, tobacco-stained teeth. He 
 wore a pair of skeleton nose-glasses tied to a black cord, 
 and his clothes, which had been flashy and loud in their 
 time, were now wrinkled, misshapen and decorated with 
 grease and dandruff. Mr. Hicket didn't look it, but he 
 was a literary bureau, a financial bureau, a correspond- 
 ence university, an astrologer, a matrimonial exchange, 
 a handwriting expert, and a few other things of the same 
 general character. 
 
 Mr. Hicket began his day's work by looking over the 
 mail. Among the letters this morning there was one 
 from a young lady in Arkansas, complaining that, al- 
 though she had taken Mr. Hicket's ten-dollar course in 
 journalism, and his twenty-five-dollar course in short- 
 story writing, and his fifteen-dollar post-graduate course 
 besides, her manuscripts came back from the magazines 
 with the same promptness as of yore, and accompanied 
 by the very same polite little slips, while the news- 
 papers, as a rule, neither returned her manuscripts, nor 
 the stamps that accompanied 
 them, nor sent her checks in 
 their stead. Mr. Hicket an- 
 swered this letter with a 
 printed slip, which an- 
 nounced that the Universal 
 School of Journalism and 
 Short Story Writing was in 
 the hands of a receiver, and 
 that the whereabouts of the 
 former proprietors was un- 
 known. 
 
 The next letter contained 
 a check for ten dollars from 
 a simple-minded clergyman 
 in Nebraska, the same being 
 a payment in advance for the 
 degree of doctor of philoso- 
 phy, which the clergyman 
 had earned by completing, in 
 nine months, the three years' 
 course of reading outlined 
 by the professors of the 
 Hicket Correspondence Uni- 
 versity. Mr. Hicket drew 
 from a drawer of his desk 
 an elaborate blank, orna- 
 
 mented with gold and red, 
 and bearing several imita- 
 tion seals, filled it up in due 
 
 form, placed it in a pasteboard mailing tube and ad- 
 dressed it to the clergyman. 
 
 Other letters contained fees of various sizes from 
 young men and young women who wished to be taught 
 journalism, or short-story writing, or the art of adver- 
 tising, or acting, or oratory, or magnetic healing, or 
 astrology, or some other art or science of making money 
 quickly without work; from older men and women, as 
 well as younger ones, who sent specimens of their hand- 
 writing, or the date of their birth, and wished to know 
 what fortune awaited them, or wished advice in the mat- 
 ter of purchasing stocks or making investments, or who 
 wished to correspond with ladies or gentlemen matri- 
 monially inclined, or who trusted to Mr. Hicket's great 
 abilities for something else. The letters came from all 
 over the United States, save for a five-hundred-mile 
 safety zone around the city. Mr. Hicket didn't adver- 
 tise in that five-hundred-mile zone. His was a strictly 
 correspondence business, and he did not care to have per- 
 sonal interviews with his clients and pupils. Most of 
 them were poor, and five hundred miles of railway journey 
 was sufficient to keep them at bay. 
 
 Mr. Hicket was a lazy man who had made the great 
 discovery that labor can be minimized by method and 
 
 regularity. He had in his 
 office thousands of printed 
 slips, and letters in imitation 
 typewriting, fit to answer 
 almost any possible commu- 
 nication which his numerous 
 advertisements might bring 
 to him, and he kept careful 
 lists of all of his patrons. 
 It usually took him about 
 two hours to get through and 
 answer a day's mail, and the 
 two hours chosen for this 
 labor were from seven until 
 nine in the morning. The 
 rest of the day and night Mr. 
 Hicket devoted to cashing 
 the checks received and 
 spending the money. The 
 large gilt letters on his door 
 said nothing of the nature of 
 his business, and merely an- 
 nounced that his office hours 
 were from ten to twelve anil 
 from one to three. This was 
 another precaution against 
 undesirable callers. 
 
 On this particular morn- 
 ing Mr. Hicket was well 
 »''>-\sei with the character 
 
 A WOMAN'S CHOICE. 
 ' Would you like a pretzel, lady? ' 
 ' Yes. Ill take that one on the bottom of the stick."
 
 HOPE DEFERRED. 
 
 " Am I going to marry my affinity, madam ?" 
 
 " Maybe you are. miss ; but your first marriage will be to a husband 
 
 He whistled softly as he opened the last 
 
 eyes bulging out of his head, gazing fix- 
 edly at the six-shooter which his caller 
 had suddenly whisked into view. 
 
 " I want my money back," she re- 
 peated. 
 
 " How — how much is it?" inquired 
 Mr. Hicket tremulously. 
 
 " Ten dollars for the course in jour- 
 nalism, twenty-five dollars for the course 
 in short-story writing, fifteen dollars for 
 the post-graduate course, and three hun- 
 dred dollars for railway fare and expens- 
 es — three hundred and fifty dollars alto- 
 gether. " 
 
 Mr. Hicket thought quickly. 
 
 " We make it a rule to refund all 
 fees in case a patron is dissatisfied," he 
 said blandly ; ' ' but — but — is it not a lit- 
 tle exorbitant to ask for your railway 
 fare in addition? Why did you not write 
 if you felt that you were not receiving 
 full value for your money?" 
 
 "Write!" exclaimed the irate lady. 
 "Write! I have written and written, 
 and I've received enough printed answers 
 to my letters to paper a room with, but 
 no money. I want my money back, and 
 I want my expenses paid, too! You 
 hear me?" 
 
 " My dear madam," said Mr. Hicket 
 soothingly, " we shall do whatever you 
 think is right. Pardon me one moment. 
 I'll just step into the treasurer's office 
 and get the money." 
 
 He rose as he spoke and stepped to 
 the door. His hat and coat hung beside 
 it; he reached for them with one hand 
 and for the door knob with the other. 
 
 "Hold up!" cried the lady suspi- 
 ciously. ' ' What are you taking your hat 
 for? Where ia the treasurer's office?" 
 
 "It's in the building across the 
 
 of his mail. 
 
 of the letters. He felt at peace with himself and the 
 world, and safe from fraud orders and skeptical in- 
 truders. 
 
 He was startled from his equanimity by the opening 
 of the door behind him, and by a raucous, female voice, 
 which inquired, 
 
 " Is this the Universal School of Journalism and 
 Short Story Writing?" 
 
 Mr. Hicket swung slowly round in his chair and con- 
 fronted the visitor. She was a strapping Amazon of a 
 woman, with pale, reddish hair, a thin, hooked nose, thin 
 lips and freckles. 
 
 "This is merely the correspondence oflice," he said 
 cautiously. " I am merely the corresponding secretary." 
 
 "Well," said the Amazon, striding nearer, "I'm 
 from Montana, and I want my money back." 
 
 " If you have any complaints " began Mr. Hicket 
 
 suavely, butstopped abruptly, with his mouth open, his 
 
 street," explained Mr. Hicket. " You see, in a big city 
 like this, we find it much cheaper to rent different 
 offices where we can get them, instead of one whole 
 building." 
 
 "Oh, indeed," she sniffed; then glanced about her 
 and sat down in Mr. Hicket's chair. " Well, you'd bet- 
 ter hurry, and don't you try any tricks. If you do you'll 
 be sorry. I want my money, and I'm going to have it, 
 too. ' ' 
 
 "Certainly, certainly," murmured Mr. Hicket, as he 
 fled for the stairway, too anxious to wait for the ele- 
 vator. 
 
 " Well," he sighed, much relieved, when he reached 
 the street, " that girl's a Jim Dandy, hey? She wants 
 her money, does she? Well, she'll want it a lot worse 
 before she sees me again. She can wait there until she 
 gets tired and hungry enough to quit. When she goes 
 for a lunch she'll find herself locked out. I slipped the 
 catch as I came through. I won't go back there until
 
 day after to-morrow, and then I'll go at six o'clock, and 
 before eight I'll be moved out and into another office. 
 Judas Priest ! if I have many more such pupils as that 
 I'll retire." 
 
 Mr. Hicket had in his pocket, fortunately, the checks 
 received that morning, and he now proceeded to cash 
 them. The rest of that day and the whole of the next he 
 spent in satisfying a healthy thirst and in gambling. 
 On the morning of the third day he repaired, somewhat 
 later than he had planned, to his office. 
 
 " I hope the old girl didn't lug off my typewriter or 
 anything," he reflected, as he strode from the elevator 
 toward the ground-glass door. The door was locked, as 
 usual, and he inserted his key and opened it, then started 
 back in astonishment. The red-headed woman was there. 
 ■ Her back was turned toward him. She was pinning a 
 paper on the opposite wall. But it was not the presence 
 of the woman which most astonished 
 him. The room was bare and empty. 
 His typewriter was gone. His desk 
 was gone. The cabinet in which he 
 kept the printed slips and letters, 
 diplomas, and the rest of his stock 
 in trade was gone. Even the waste 
 basket, and the chair, and the picture 
 of a tiger which had hung on the 
 wall were gone. He entered the room 
 mechanically and closed the door 
 behind him from long habit. 
 
 The woman turned about, saw 
 who it was, and smiled. 
 
 " I've been looking after things 
 for you while you've been away," 
 she said sweetly. 
 
 " Wha — what have you done?" 
 stammered Mr. Hicket. " Where 
 — where — where's my things?" 
 
 " The typewriter and the desk and 
 the other furniture I sold to get my 
 money. Your printed letters and 
 slips and things I had the janitor 
 sell for waste paper." 
 
 " Woman, this is robbery — lar- 
 ceny — burglary. I shall give you 
 into custody at once," cried Mr. 
 Hicket furiously. 
 
 " I think not, " said the lady, eye- 
 ing him coldly. ' ' In order to do that 
 you will have to get in touch with 
 the police. I have reason to think 
 that you do not care to become known 
 to the police. I feel perfectly safe. " 
 
 Mr. Hicket gasped. It was true. 
 He dared not call upon the law to 
 protect him. He would have to ex- 
 plain too much. He leaned against 
 the wall and gasped. Perspiration 
 broke out in drops on his forehead. 
 
 " But my business !" he murmur- 
 ed. "You have ruined my business !" 
 
 " I wouldn't worry about that if I 
 were you," she replied. " I am a 
 Stenographer and used to attending 
 
 to correspondence. I opened your mail yesterday and sent 
 the money back, and to those who did not send money I 
 sent a note, telling them that you were a fraud. I looked 
 through your books, too, and sent a little epistle to all of 
 your customers. I was just pinning up a sample copy 
 for your benefit when you came in. Here it is." 
 
 He took the slip she offered to him. 
 
 " Good-bye," she murmured. " I've got my money 
 back," and marched past him and out of the room. 
 
 He looked at the slip. It read as follows: "The 
 Universal School of Journalism and Short Story Writing 
 is a fake. A fool and his money are soon parted. Yours 
 truly, Sallie Smith." 
 
 He was still leaning against the wall. He closed his 
 eyes to shut out the nakedness of his familiar office, and 
 muttered feebly, " She's gone — gone at last — but I guess 
 I'll retire, anyway." 
 
 WOMAN'S CURIOSITY. 
 " That Mr. Huggard is a regular bear." 
 *' Oh, dear! You must introduce me."
 
 The Vacation Diary of a Millionaire 
 
 By W. J. Foley 
 
 |ULY 1st.— Extremely hot. 
 Nothing doing in high fi- 
 nance. Start to-day for 
 my summer home in the 
 mountains to get into 
 touch with nature. How 
 good it is to be able to 
 cast off the cares and re- 
 sponsibilities of business 
 for a time and be light- 
 hearted and free as a boy ! 
 July 3d. — Highly sen- 
 sational attack on Atlan- 
 tic and Pacific in the news 
 to-day. The President has 
 directed the Attorney- 
 General to proceed against 
 the board of directors. I 
 wonder if I am in that directorate? Yes; unfortunately 
 I am. So glad I came to the mountains for a good 
 rest! 
 
 July 6th. — How glorious here at my mountain retreat, 
 secluded from affairs anu safe from the prying inquiries 
 of reporters! In the fall I must get Atlantic and Pacific 
 back to par. How beautiful the trees and rocks and 
 streams are ! The world is good and pleasant, truly. 
 Just got a daily paper! How the news follows us ! I'll 
 look it over. " Indictments likely in Atlantic and Pa- 
 cific," it says. D Atlantic and Pacific! 
 
 July 8th. — I am indicted! Just got word over a pri- 
 vate wire. Me indicted as a director of Atlantic and 
 Pacific! A man of unblemished reputation — a philan- 
 thropist sacrificed to the senseless clamor of the mob! 
 And wanted as a witness in Consolidated Copper ! By 
 heaven! what has become of our liberties? I'll obey no 
 subpoena, rest assured of that. Ye gods! what penalties 
 wealth pays to jealousy! 
 
 July 10th. — Just heard by wireless that inquiry is on 
 into Consolidated Traction, and Union Gas and Electric 
 is under the probe. Grand jury will take up these mat- 
 ters at once. Confound railroads and copper and trac- 
 tion and gas ! I wish I was out of the whole business. 
 This thing is spoiling my trout-fishing. I don't have 
 any comfort at all. Sometimes wish I was a farmer. 
 
 July 11th. — Jersey Elevated on the rack! If this is 
 a vacation I am having, I guess the trolley's twisted. 
 
 July 12th. — Grand jury has adjourned. Thank the 
 Lord for that! I'm going fishing. 
 
 July 13th. — Suspicious-looking characters in the 
 woods. Have sent Jones to investigate. 
 
 July 14th. — Jones thinks they are subpoena-servers. 
 By ginger! I'll wing 'em if they cross my path. Is ', 
 man to have no peace, even during vacation? Weather 
 a little chilly, and I am staying in the house. 
 
 July 15th. — Another stranger. Jones is investigat- 
 ing. Jones says he has a bench-warrant. Have in- 
 structed Jones to admit no strangers to the house. Fish 
 
 biting well, but dare not go out for fear of those con- 
 founded bailiffs and constables. 
 
 July 16th. — Jones on guard — officers lurking in the 
 woods. This place is a prison. Two reporters in the 
 woods, so Jones reports, with cameras. This administra- 
 tion is a farce — a thing of shams and deceits. And they 
 call this a free country! Bah! 
 
 July 17th. — Sent Jones for a doctor. I am so nerv- 
 ous and irritable I can't eat or sleep. All doors securely 
 locked and bolted. By ginger! suppose one of those fel- 
 lows should come down the chimney? 
 
 July 18th. — Quieter, but far from well. 
 
 July 19th. — Better, but no appetite. 
 
 July 20th. — Subpoena and fee thrown through the 
 window with a stone. Jones chucked 'em into the fire. 
 
 July 20th. — Another subpoena dropped down the chim- 
 ney into the fireplace. 
 
 July 22d. — Escaped from my lodge last night in the 
 auto. Going deeper into the woods. My goodness! 
 what a summer! 
 
 July 23d. — Four constables, two subpoena-servers and 
 five reporters on the trail. 
 
 Julv 24th. — Secluded in a little hamlet far up in the 
 mountains. Jones ran the auto along the bed of the 
 
 poki 
 
 COMPROIVIISED WITH HIS LORDSHIP. 
 Rupert — " Lord Notasenl asked me to teach him how to play 
 ;r." 
 Editha — " And you ?" 
 Rupert — "Compromised by lending him a hundred dollais."
 
 brook, to leave no sign. Am growing whiskers, and, 
 thus disguised, will be able to escape later to a seaport. 
 
 July 25th. — Uneventful week. No e.xcitement but 
 watching my whiskers grow. Came up out of cyclone 
 cellar to-day for ten minutes. 
 
 August 2d. — Jones says new batch of officers is lurk- 
 ing about the place. Still in cyclone cellar. Only have 
 five minutes out per day now. 
 
 August 3d-15th. — Nothing doing but whiskers and 
 watching for strangers. Jones says the woods are filling 
 up with subpcEna-servers. 
 
 August 16th. — Important message from Slick & 
 Squeeze that all indictments have been quashed for lack 
 of jurisdiction. There is justice in the land yet. I am 
 picking up rapidly. 
 
 August 20th. — Have instructed Jones to arrange for 
 trip back to the city. 
 
 August 25th. — Back in town. Reporters say I am 
 the picture of health. Announced my gift of $50,000 to 
 the High Art Institute. Atlantic and Pacific going up 
 again slowly. The President gone hunting — thank 
 heaven! Interview deploring senseless attacks on our 
 financial institutions, and stating that we stand like 
 adamant in our probity. And I never caught a fish! 
 
 Uncompromised. 
 
 ED. and Mag. together were 
 Oft in close communion seen. 
 Ed. was but an editor. 
 
 Mag. a weekly magazine. 
 
 POOR JACK! 
 
 ' 1 do wish Jack would hurry up and propose." 
 ' But I thought you didn't like him ?" 
 ' 1 don't. 1 want to get rid of him." 
 
 IN CONVENTION ASSEIVIBLED. 
 
 Professor Leo — " Ladies and gentlemen, after carefully studying the statements of both 
 parties to the nature-faker controversy, I am convinced that it is a zoological impossibility lor either 
 of them to be right." 
 
 Progress of Freedom, 
 I TNCLE EPH was standing 
 ^^ in the doorway of John- 
 son's Cross Roads Emporium, 
 at Red House, Ga., when the 
 first touring-car ever seen in 
 the neighborhood went puffing 
 up the road toward Squigg's 
 Corners. 
 
 " Sakes alibe, Marse John- 
 sing!" he exclaimed to the 
 merchant prince, who never 
 stopped his whittling, " wot's 
 dat?" 
 
 " Oh, jest one o' them hoss- 
 less kerridges," answered the 
 sage, who had once visited 
 Atlanta. 
 
 " Well, who made it, Marse 
 Johnsing — de debbil?" 
 
 " Wuss than that, Eph — ■ 
 them pesky Yankees!" was 
 the reply. 
 
 " Lawdy, Lawdy ! Now, 
 wa'n'tdat jes' like 'em? Back 
 dere in 'sebenty-six dey freed 
 de kentry, an' den in 'sixty- 
 free dey freed de darkies, 
 an' yere dey goes a-freein' de 
 bosses an' mules!"
 
 A C^tskill Mountain Scheme 
 
 By A. B. Lewis 
 
 FTER an hour's driving, the 
 wagon that had brought the 
 Jones family from the lit- 
 tle railroad station in the 
 C a 1 8 k i 11 s stopped at a 
 farm-house that appeared 
 ready to collapse from de- 
 cay. It had not been paint- 
 ed in years, many of the 
 window panes were broken, 
 and several holes could be 
 seen in the battered shin- 
 gle roof. There was no 
 grass and only one or two 
 trees on the grounds surrounding the neglected building, 
 and the only sign of life about the place was a hungry- 
 looking dog that put up his head and howled mournfully 
 when the vehicle drove up. As the driver, an old farm- 
 er, got off the wagon and appeared to be unhitching the 
 horses, Jones was the first to get over his astonishment, 
 and he angrily demanded, 
 
 " Say, what sort of a bunco game is this you're try- 
 ing to play on us?" 
 
 " What d'ye mean?" quietly asked the farmer. 
 
 " What do I mean, sir ! Why, your circular describes 
 a place vastly different from this. Where are the shaded 
 lawns, the stately elms, the" 
 
 " John," cut in Mrs. Jones with a sob, " I — I wouldn't 
 stay a night in that house for a million dollars! It — it 
 looks like it was haunted!" 
 
 " Of course we won't!" said her husband. " You're 
 dealing, sir, with a New York business man, and not 
 some hayseed." 
 
 " Where's the tennis court, pa?" wailed young Jones, 
 who had brought several rackets with him. 
 
 " And the croquet grounds?" asked Miss Jones, as she 
 wiped the tears from her eyes. 
 
 The farmer made no reply for a time. He had evi- 
 dently been adjusting the harness, for he soon returned 
 to his seat, and as he started the horses again, he said, 
 
 " You city folks alius jump ter conclushuns the fust 
 thing. Now, if ye'll give me a chance I'll git ye to 
 Pansy Farm House. It's a leetle further down the road. " 
 
 A sigh of relief went up from the Jones family that 
 could have been heard half a mile away, and when they 
 reached their destination, although the place did not 
 
 1 
 
 WHERE THE COUNTRY GETS EVEN WITH THE CITY. 
 
 " I tell yeou, us farmers ain't so slow." 
 " How's that. Si ?'■ 
 
 " Well, them city tellers lure u! to town to take their gold bricks an' we entice "em out here all summer to take 
 board with us, an' I reckon we jest erbout break even on the hull deal. "
 
 come up to the description and looked rather in need of 
 repairs, it struck them as being superior to anything in 
 the mountains. Jones had almost forgotten the incident, 
 but a day or two later he overheard the farmer remark 
 to his wife, 
 
 " By gum, ma, but that scheme o' mine o' stoppin' 
 down by Perkins's old shanty and purtendin' to unhitch 
 works like a charm! The city folks wuz alius kickin', 
 but they 'pear so glad to git here now that ye kin feed 
 'em on 'taters and 'lasses, and it's all right. I orter 
 been in the gold-brick bizness, 'stead o' wastin' my time 
 up here." 
 
 The Best He Could Do. 
 
 THEY sat on the beach in the moonlight, and held 
 hands, and watched the stars, and listened to the 
 tide as it " walked right in and turned around and 
 walked right out again." For one week — seven whole 
 blissful days — they had been engaged, and he had prom- 
 ised her six automobiles, four steam yachts, thirty-eight 
 diamond necklaces, and nine bulldogs. And they were to 
 go to Europe on their wedding-tour, and live on Fifth 
 Avenue when they returned, to say nothing of a villa at 
 Newport. As a clock in the distance struck the hour of 
 ten, he heaved a deep sigh. " Geraldine, I — I have a sad, 
 sad duty to perform. To-morrow I return to the city." 
 " But — but you will come back, Arthur?" 
 " Not this year, Geraldine. I may as well tell you 
 the truth. I work at the ribbon counter at Stacy's, and 
 my vacation ends to-morrow morning. You see " 
 
 THE CHEAPER WAY. 
 Mrs. Jones — " Mrs. Smith has a perfect dream of a hat." 
 Mr. Jones — " Great idea I Go take a nap and see if you can't dream one.' 
 
 JUST TEN MINUTES WASTED. 
 
 Mother — " Now, you sit down in that chair and be good for 
 ten minutes." 
 
 Son — " I don't want to. Pa '11 be home in (en minutes, and 
 I'll have to be good, anyway." 
 
 " But you are the son of a billionaire!" she broke in. 
 " Alas, no! My father is assistant cook on a liner, so 
 I am only the son of a sea-cook." 
 
 " But — but that one continuous round 
 of gayety we were to have!" wailed the 
 girl, in tones that frightened the lob- 
 sters on the beach (including Arthur). 
 
 " Not this summer, Geraldine." 
 
 "And the autos and diamonds and 
 dear Newport?" 
 
 " Pipe-dreams, my dear." 
 
 " Oh !" she moaned, covering her face 
 with her hands, " how I have banked on 
 that continuous round of gayety ! And 
 now you tell me it was all a pipe." 
 
 " Say, Geraldine," said Arthur, ns he 
 patted heron the back and tried to soothe 
 her, " I'll tell you what I will do about 
 that round of gayety that sticks so in 
 your crop. You meet me next Saturday 
 afternoon, after I've drawn my seven - 
 fifty per, and we'll go to Coney Island 
 and get on a carousel and stay there 
 until midnight. How'll that do for a 
 continuous round of gayety?" 
 
 "Wretch! Fraud! Deceiver!" she 
 exclaimed, as she waved him back and 
 arose to her feet. " I work at the hat- 
 pin counter at Blank's, only three blocks 
 from Stacy's, and if I ever see you pass 
 the store I'll run out and jab eight hat- 
 pins into your miserable carcass! Go 
 hence!" 
 
 And thus they parted. a. b. lewis.
 
 The Regular Thing. 
 
 AND now the summer boarders come, 
 Tin-lunged and rubber-jawed, 
 To talk us all both deaf and dumb 
 Of what they saw " abroad." 
 
 And she who claims that she has seen 
 
 " Paree " by night and day. 
 Quite possibly has never been 
 
 To Hoboken, N. J. lurana w. sheldon. 
 
 Judge's Handy Hints 
 
 to Household Heads. 
 
 ^AfHEN enjoying a jumping toothache the 
 '" pain can be alleviated in the following 
 easy manner: 
 
 Cut from an expensive comforter a piece about 
 the size of your wife's first biscuit, but about a 
 million times softer. Of course this will destroy 
 the comforter, but it will also. destroy the ache. 
 Dip this piece of comforter into some kerosene 
 until entirely saturated. Then push into cavity 
 of the tooth and hammer it in firmly with a 
 croquet mallet. This will immediately relieve 
 the pain ; whereas if you went to a dentist, be- 
 sides relieving you of the pain he would relieve 
 you of perhaps two dollars. If the kerosene 
 l(!aves a bad taste in your mouth, it can be rem- 
 edied by eating a small cube of limburger cheese 
 or gargling with roof paint. 
 
 The above remedy is infallible. One treatment is 
 E nough. Try it once and you will never try it again. 
 
 HOW TO READ CHARACTER BY THE WAIST-LINE. 
 
 We have palm-reading, face-reading, bump-reading, handwriting experts, 
 etc., but no method that gives a satisfactory index to character — especially wo- 
 man's character. Waist-line reading has not been advocated as yet, so we sug- 
 gest to the woozy prognosticators and dippy scientists the following ; A high 
 waist-lme denotes emotional nature, high-strung, skittish, and fond of outdoor 
 sports. A low waist-line indicates a quiet nature, fond of children, the theatre, 
 candy, etc. 
 
 The average chauffeur certainly takes life easily. 
 
 Explained. 
 
 (( 1^/f Y husband went to church this morning." 
 " Our Sunday paper didn't come, either." 
 
 BEHIND THE SCENES. 
 The trai^eMaii — " I'm going out in a new play this season, and I want my press agent to get up some new story about me that will 
 attract great attention." 
 
 The leading lady — " Why don't you have him say you're going to act ?
 
 A Real-est&te Enthusiast. 
 
 ** /^NCE in my early career," said a well-known New 
 ^^ York magazine editor, " I owned and edited a 
 more or less thrifty weekly newspaper. One of my 
 features was country correspondence, and I prided my- 
 self on the accuracy of my rural aids. In one issue, 
 from the best point on my list, I received a notice read- 
 ing as follows: 'Mr. John Grady, having purchased a 
 plot of ground in Machpelah some months ago, has now 
 gone into real estate body and soul. John was always 
 an enthusiast.' 
 
 " The item looked all right to me, and sounded quite 
 enterprising, I thought; but a day or two after the paper 
 had got round among the subscribers I received a letter 
 of ' indignity,' which almost took my breath away. In 
 it I was duly informed that Mr. Grady was dead and 
 buried in the Machpelah cemetery, where he had pur- 
 chased a plot some three months previously. In conclu- 
 sion, I may say that my correspondent at that point has 
 since risen to prominence as a humorist, and I suppose 
 most of you have read his stuff in various publications. 
 But that item was not very funny for him or for me, be- 
 cause he had to get another job far away, and I lost a 
 dozen good subscribers." 
 
 Turn About. 
 
 THE summertime will soon be gone — 
 Nature grieves. 
 And just as soon as autumn comes 
 Autumn leaves. 
 
 IN SOCIETY. 
 
 " Papa, 1 wish you'd get arrested for speeding. Willie Smith's 
 father has been arrested three times, an' 1 just hale to have those 
 Smiths get ahead of us." 
 
 Rare Indeed. 
 
 JJOW rarely do these 
 three things meet — a 
 man who wants something, 
 is fitted for it, and any 
 great number of persons 
 who think he ought to 
 have it. 
 
 Lending Interest to 
 the Show. 
 
 <( OAY," said Tommy, 
 *^ the chief manager 
 of the fifteen -pin show, 
 " I'm goin' ter raise de ad- 
 mittance ter thirty pins 
 fer dis evenin's perform- 
 ance." 
 
 " Wot fer?" asked his 
 assistant. 
 
 " 'Cause my sister wot 
 eloped wid de hackman an' 
 had her name in all de pa- 
 pers 's consented ter be 
 Dresent." 
 
 
 WOULDN'T STAND ANOTHER CUT. 
 
 ■ This suit is fifteen dollars. ' 
 
 ' H'm ? Could you take something off that ?" 
 
 ' If you wish it, miss ; but I think you'll find it comes above tlie kne; iiO'-ui." 
 
 ^A/E will never have uni- 
 »▼ versal peace until 
 each nation is satisfied with 
 io^ piece it has.
 
 A FAR-SEEING PLAYER. 
 
 " Whah yo* gwine wid de telescope ?" 
 
 " Gwine ter play a game ob checkers wid Peg Leg. Dey say he 
 kin see 'way erhead in de game, an' Ah'm gwine ter play wid dis inst'u- 
 ment to mah eye, an' Ah'll bet Ah kin see 'bout ten times lurder dan 
 him." 
 
 LIMIT OF LAZINESS. 
 
 I^WO DARKIES lay sprawled on the levee on a hot 
 * day. George Washington drew a long sigh and 
 said, " Ah wish Ah had a hundred watermillions." 
 
 Dixie's eye lighted. "Hum! Dat would suttenly be 
 fine! An' ef yo' had a hun'ed watermillions, would yo' 
 gib me fifty?" 
 
 " No, Ah wouldn't." 
 " Wouldn't yo' gib me twenty-five?" 
 " No, Ah wouldn't gib yo' no twenty-five." 
 Dixie gazed with reproachful eyes at his close-fisted 
 friend. " Seems to me you's powahful stingy, George 
 Washin'ton," he said; and then continued, in a heart- 
 broken voice, " Wouldn't yo' gib me one?" 
 
 " No, Ah wouldn't gib yo' one. Look-a hyah, niggah ! 
 Are yo' so good-fer-nuflin' lazy dat yo' caihn't wish fo' 
 yo' own watermillions?" 
 
 Olive Lawson Ryder, Philadelphia, Pa. 
 
 HE MUST HAVE NEEDED IT. 
 
 A LONG-HAIRED man, walking along the street, 
 met a little boy, who asked him the time. 
 " Ten minutes to nine," the man replied. 
 " Well," said the boy, " at nine o'clock get your hair 
 cut." 
 
 He took to his heels, the aggrieved one after him. 
 Turning the corner, the man ran into a policeman, 
 nearly knocking him over- 
 
 " What's up?" asked the policeman. 
 
 The man, very much out of breath, said, " You see 
 that young urchin running along there? Well, he asked 
 me the time, and I told him, ' Ten minutes to nine,' and 
 he said, ' At nine o'clock get your hair cut.' " 
 
 " Well," said the policeman, " what are you running 
 for? You have eight minutes yet. " 
 
 Andrew T. Kelly, Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 ADMISSION BY TICKET. 
 
 ^kiJANDY was a young colored girl, fresh from the 
 cotton fields of the South. One afternoon she 
 came to her Northern mistress and handed her a visiting 
 card. 
 
 " De lady wha' gib me dis is in de pa'lor, " she ex- 
 plained. " Dey's annoder lady on de do'step. " 
 
 " Gracious, Mandy !" exclaimed the mistress. " Why 
 didn't you ask both of them to come in?" 
 
 " Cayse, ma'am," grinned the girl, " de one on de 
 do'step done fo'git her ticket." 
 
 W. Irwin Moyer, Pittsburgh, Pa. 
 
 IT WOULD PAY THEN.' 
 
 /^NE DAY a gentleman, walking down the boardwalk 
 ^^ at Atlantic City, saw an Irishman on his knees, 
 pushing a dollar bill through one of the cracks. He 
 touched the man on the shoulder and said, " Why are 
 you doing that, my good man?" 
 
 The Irishman looked up and said, " Faith, and I jist 
 dropped a nickel through the walk, and I thought I'd 
 make it worth me while to tear up the walk and get me 
 nickel." D. C. Alexander, Atlanta, Ga. 
 
 AN IMPORTANT OMISSION. 
 
 A WISCONSIN editor was visiting in Chicago and de- 
 cided to buy a new panama hat. Going into a 
 store, he asked the price of one that looked good to him. 
 The clerk replied, " Fifteen dollars." 
 Whereat the editor asked, " Where are the holes?" 
 The clerk appeared bewildered for a moment, but 
 managed to ask, " What holes?" 
 
 The editor replied, " The holes for the ears of the ass 
 that would pay fifteen dollars for a hat like that." 
 
 Roqua Sturgis, Enid, Okla. 
 
 PUTTING IT OFF. 
 
 AN IRISHMAN, on being convicted of murder, was 
 * • told by the judge that he could have the choice of 
 tree that he was to be hanged from. 
 He replied, " A gooseberry tree." 
 " Why," said the judge, " it is not big enough!" 
 " Well," said the Irishman, " if itplases your honor, 
 I'll wait till it grows." 
 
 I. Cullen, San Francisco, Cal. 
 
 UNTIDY. 
 
 Precise aunt (trying to amuse Kate, who had come to 
 spend the day) — " Oh, see pussy washing her face!" 
 
 Kate (with scorn) — " She's not washing her face — 
 she's washing her feet and wiping 'em on her face." 
 Miss A. Ludwig, Paterson, N. J. 
 
 ¥F A MAN tells you he is a Bohemian, be quite sure 
 * that his next words will be, " Sav, old man, could 
 you lend me a dollar?"
 
 Willie Cross-questions His Ma 
 
 By J. W. Foley 
 
 "M 
 
 A?' 
 
 " Yes, my son." 
 
 "Can't I go over to Henry Green's 
 and play a little while?" 
 
 " I don't think so this evening, Willie." 
 
 " Can't I go over and play just for a few minutes?" 
 
 "No; not this evening, Willie." 
 
 " Not if I come right back in fifteen minutes?" 
 
 " I've told you no already, Willie." 
 
 " Why can't I go over, ma?" 
 
 " Because I don't want you to, Willie." 
 
 " Could I go if my chores were all done, ma?" 
 
 " I don't want you to go out to-night, Willie." 
 
 " Well, is it because my chores ain't all done?" 
 
 " I didn't say anything about chores, Willie. I don't 
 want you to go out this evening — that's all." 
 
 " Well, if I did my chores all up, could I go?" 
 
 " I didn't say so, Willie." 
 
 " Well, I know ; but if it was on account of my chores, 
 and I went out and did 'em, could I go?" 
 
 "Not to-night." 
 
 " Well, why can't I go if it ain't on account of my 
 chores?" 
 
 " Because I don't wish you to go, Willie." 
 
 " Henry Green's a nice boy, ain't he, ma?" 
 
 " I suppose so —yes." 
 
 " Well, it ain't on account 
 of him not being a nice boy, 
 is it?" 
 
 " I didn't say so, Willie." 
 
 " Well, I know you didn't; 
 but if it was on account of him 
 not being a nice boy you'd say 
 so, wouldn't you?" 
 
 "I might, Willie." 
 
 "Well, wouldn't you?" 
 
 "I didn't say anything 
 about Henry Green, Willie. 
 I merely said I didn't want you 
 to go over and play to-night. " 
 
 " Well, don'tyou think you 
 ought to tell me if it was on 
 account of Henry Green?" 
 
 " William, I said you could- 
 n't go out to-night, and that 
 settles it." 
 
 " I know ; but there's a 
 reason for you not wanting 
 me to go out to-night, ain't 
 there?" 
 
 " I suppose there is a rea- 
 son for everything, my son." 
 
 " Then don't you think you 
 ought to tell me the reason?" 
 
 "Not necessarily. It's 
 enough when I tell you you 
 can't go." 
 
 STABLE TALK. 
 
 ** Thought you had a job on a yacht V 
 
 " 1 have. I'm groom." 
 
 *' On a yacht?" 
 
 " Yes ; taking care of clothes-horses." 
 
 " But if somebody told you yoH couldn't do some- 
 thing, wouldn't you like to know the reason, ma?" 
 " I might and I might not, Willie." 
 " But wouldn't you be apt to want to know it?" 
 " William, don't bother me any more. I said you 
 were not to go, and that's enough." 
 
 " But Henry Green's all right to play with, ain't he, 
 ma?" 
 
 " I suppose he is, for all I know." 
 " You never heard of Henry Green being a bad boy to 
 play with, did you, ma?" 
 
 " I don't know that I ever did." 
 
 " Well, if he had been a bad boy, you'd probably have 
 heard about it, wouldn't you?" 
 
 " For goodness sake, Willie! stop asking questions. 
 You can't go out to-night, and that's all there is to it." 
 " Is it because you don't want me to go out this par- 
 ticular night, ma?" 
 
 " Never mind why it is. You can't go." 
 " If it was any other night could I go, ma?" 
 " The night hasn't anything to do with it. I said you 
 couldn't go, and don't ask any more questions." 
 
 " Is it because you're afraid I won't get my lessons?"- 
 " I don't know anything about your lessons, William. 
 If you don't get them you'll get punished to-morrow." 
 
 "Well, if I had 'em could 
 I go then?" 
 
 "No, sir; you couldn't." 
 " Well, then, it must be 
 something else — ain't it, 
 ma?" 
 
 "It is because I don't 
 choose to have you go, and 
 that's all." 
 
 " Well, if it was daytime, 
 could 1 go?" 
 
 " Now, William, if you ask 
 any more questions you'll go 
 upstairs to bed in a hurry. 
 I've answered all the ques- 
 tions I'm going to." 
 
 " But, ma, if I promised 
 Henry Green I'd come over 
 to-night, don't you think I 
 ought to go over and tell him 
 that I can't come, and not 
 keep him waiting?" 
 
 " You shouldn't have prom- 
 ised Henry Green anything 
 without asking me first." 
 
 " I know ; but if I did 
 promise him?" 
 
 "William, you be quiet 
 and don't ask another ques- 
 tion, or I'll punish you 
 severely." 
 
 " But, ma, can't I go out
 
 AMONG THE PROVINCIALS. 
 
 Mr. Nenv Yorker-" I see they attacked Kmg Alfonso in the street and tried 'o kill him/ 
 M,s. rennymcnt-" 1 didn't know it. That's the trouble with Imng m a back flat. I ne, 
 see anything." 
 
 and just holler over to Henry Green that I can't come if 
 I come right back?" 
 
 "•Well, perhaps; but if you don't come right back 
 you'll get punished for it." 
 
 " Suppose Henry Green should offer to come over, ma 
 —what shall I tell him?" 
 
 " Tell him you can't play outdoors to-night." 
 
 "But suppose he comes right over without offerin', 
 
 ma?" 
 
 " William, you go upstairs directly and wait till I 
 
 coin 6 !' ' 
 
 " Without hollerin' over to Henry Green, ma?" 
 
 " Yes, without waiting a minute; and when I find my 
 hair-brush, I'll see whether you obey me or not." 
 
 " But, ma, you said I could holler, didn't you?" 
 
 "William!" 
 
 "If you hadn't said so I wouldn't have asked any 
 
 more questions ; but I had to ask 
 what I ought to tell Henry Green 
 when he hollered back, didn't 
 I?" 
 
 " Are you going upstairs or 
 
 not?" 
 
 "Ain't that Henry hollerin' now 
 
 ma?" 
 
 "William, you'll drive me to 
 desperation I" 
 
 "Well, if I go right up you 
 won't whip me, will you, ma?" 
 
 "No; not if you go right up 
 immediately." 
 
 " And can I holler to Henry out 
 of the upstairs window, ma?" 
 
 (Desperate rush up the stairs 
 by William, with his mother a step 
 behind him. Bedroom door closes 
 suddenly, with William on the in- 
 side. Five minutes later) : 
 
 " Ma, I just happened to think 
 it's to-morrow night I promised to 
 go over and play with Henry 
 Green, so can't I come downstairs 
 again?" 
 
 True Business Instinct. 
 
 ED WAS a mighty bright negro 
 belonging to a family in Co- 
 lumbia, Tenn. He had been a 
 faithful servant for many years, 
 and by saving and carefully invest- 
 ing his wages he had belied the 
 usual thriftlessness attributed 
 with more or less justice to the 
 majority of his race. 
 
 His master was an attorney, 
 and one morning, before he had 
 arisen, the lawyer was called upon 
 by Ed, who said, 
 
 "Say, boss, Ah wants yo' ter 
 draw me up a mawgidge." 
 
 " A mortgage?" asked his mas- 
 " What do you want a mortgage for?" 
 "Well, Ah's done lent Unc' 'Lisha five dollahs, an' 
 Ah wants a mawgidge on his cow an' caff." ^^ 
 " Fjr how long have you lent the money?" 
 " Fo' one monf. " 
 
 " One month! Why, the interest on that amount for 
 that time wouldn't pay for the paper a mortgage is writ- 
 ten on." 
 
 "Boss," said Ed, scratching his head, " Ah ain t 
 carin' nuffin' fo' dat intrust— Ah jes' wants dat niggah's 
 cow an' caff." 
 
 A Mistake Somewhere. 
 
 Myrtle—" What's the score?" 
 St/iei—" Eight to four. " 
 
 Myrtle " You must be mistaken. I'm sure 1 haven't 
 
 seen more than three men carried off the field." 
 
 I never 
 
 ter.
 
 Mrs. O'Toole Discusses National Assets 
 
 "P 
 
 agree wid 
 nature. 
 
 jHWAT be children, Mrs. Flannagan?" 
 
 " Nicissary evils," answered her neigh- 
 bor promptly. 
 
 " Nothavin' onny, Oi am obliged to dis- 
 ye, " said Mrs. O'Toole, with perfect good 
 ' Children be luxuries, Mrs. Flannagan, an' 
 whin Oi married Moike O'Toole, shure Oi said to mesilf, 
 ' Remimber, Ann O'Toole, your husband is a poor mon. 
 Don't ye be afther gittin' luxoorious now, an' bring a 
 good mon down to har-rd wor-ruk an' worry, to say 
 nothin' av sittin' a bod example to the neighbors.' An' 
 it do be wonderful how thim habits av economy in them 
 directions do grow on one ! Elivin years have passed 
 since I resolved thot risolution, Mrs. Flannagan, an' 
 look at me now if ye plaze ! Oi have me own automo- 
 bubble an' me jools, an' Moike has not raised a pick in 
 his ar-rm since he wint into politics, an' all because av 
 me good sinse in not bein' luxoorious. 
 
 " An' there do be another soide to the question, Mrs. 
 Flannagan, ' ' went on the speaker. ' ' I wor always think. 
 in' av the exasperatin' 
 percooliarrities av in- 
 heritince,asmy sister- 
 in-law, Mame, would 
 call thim. ' Ann,' she 
 sez, ' history will re- 
 pate itsilf whin ye 
 least expect it. Mur- 
 der will out,' sez she; 
 ' an' thim thot tells the 
 most tales is fools, 
 dead men and chil- 
 dren.' 'I know it, 
 Mame,' sez Oi; 'an' 
 shure if ony one had 
 reason to remimber it, 
 the wife av your broth- 
 er, Moike O'Toole, is 
 the individooal.' An' 
 it is gospil trut', Mrs. 
 Flannagan, thot mo- 
 thers an' fathers re- 
 vale the skilitons in 
 their closets oftener 
 t'ro' their offspring 
 thon onny other way — 
 the sapheads ! An ' 
 thim tricks av inhiri- 
 tince do be blissid dis- 
 comfortin', Mrs. Flan- 
 nagan. Sez Oi to me- 
 silf just before Oi be- 
 gan me matootinal 
 career as a married 
 woman, 'Ann O'Toole 
 don't ye be afther for- 
 gittin' thot the sins av 
 
 By Lurana W. Sheldon 
 
 the fathers an 
 
 WHY HE HESITATES. 
 Mr. Tim O' Gerrily — " Oi hate t' vote for a lot av foreigners, 
 not an Oirishman on th' ticket, be gorry I" 
 
 gran'fathers, an' the divil knows how 
 monny other ginerashuns av malefactors, fall an' de- 
 cind upon the children,' sez Oi. 'Don't ye fergit to 
 remimber thot your own gran'father wor no better than 
 he should be, to say nothin' av the father av yer husband, 
 Moike O'Toole, who wor a blackleg an' a shape stealer 
 if iver there wuz one.' 
 
 "But listen to this, Mrs. Flannagan. The Prisident 
 av these Untied Sthates has been afther inscribin' these 
 sintiraints upon the tablets av the Mothers' Congress, 
 whativer thot may be, I dunno ! ' Children are a national 
 asset,' sez he, an' his teeth snapped together whin he 
 said it." 
 
 " Phwat object has the Prisidint in jollyin' the Moth- 
 ers av Congress? They can't vote," broke in Mrs. 
 Flannagan. 
 
 "No; but their husbands can, Mrs. Flannagan," ex- 
 plained the other. " Poor things ! They have no toime 
 to vote or do onnything ilse, Mrs. Flannagan, ixcipt, do 
 ye moind, to be mothers, ivery inch av thim, an' sthale 
 
 away now an' thin to 
 shake the bond av the 
 Prisidint an' thank 
 him for his fotygraft. 
 But he's the statesman 
 fer ye, an' the iligant 
 gintlemon, too, Mrs. 
 Flannagan ! Sez he to 
 himsilf, ' O i ' m d e- 
 loighted wid me oppor- 
 toonity to secure the 
 vote av the good, rip- 
 resintative citizens av 
 the 1 o n d ' — for, a v 
 coorse, they do be all 
 married women, bar- 
 rin' the widdys, Mrs. 
 Flannagan — ' an',' sez 
 he out loud,' shure the 
 bond thot rocks the 
 cradle marks the ballot 
 also,' sez he, an' ig- 
 norin' the fact thot it 
 is the nur-rse gur-rl's 
 bond thot rocks the 
 cradle, whin it gits 
 rocked, Mrs. Flanna- 
 gan, he goes on to say, 
 ' If the mothers av the 
 lond are wid me, Oi 
 don't give a pea- 
 nut if Hearst an' Bry- 
 an are agin me!' Thin 
 he shook thim all by 
 the bond, Mrs. Flan- 
 nagan, an' writ thot 
 message on thim 
 
 The
 
 l_ft^/«,Jk d. 
 
 loines Oi wor just afther rapaytin', thot 
 children do be a national asset. 
 
 " Now Oi lave it to you if he is right, 
 Mrs. Flannagan ! Ye are the proud mother 
 av noine, not countin' the four thot are 
 dead an' gone to glory, Mrs. Flannagan. 
 Oi'll begin by askin' ye about yees oldest 
 b'y" 
 
 " Don't sphake av him at all, at all, if 
 ye plaze, Mrs. O'Toole! Shure it's in jail 
 he is this blissid minute, bad luck to the 
 spalpeen I" 
 
 " An 'yer second son, Mrs. Flannagan?" 
 
 " Shure he's the booze artist av the 
 war-rd, if ye will have it, Mrs. O'Toole," 
 was the answer. 
 
 " An' the thir-rd son — or is it a gur-rl 
 thot slipped in just at this point, Mrs. 
 Flannagan?" 
 
 "It's a b'y," said Mrs. Flannagan. 
 "An' he's a dead ringer for his daddy. 
 They do be both av thim in the loafin' 
 business together at prisent. " 
 
 " An' the next are two gur-rls, if Oi'm 
 not mistaken, Mrs. Flannagan?" 
 
 Mrs. Flannagan nodded her head. 
 "Thirzy an' Tiny, Mrs. O'Toole. Shure 
 Thirzy has gone to the bad altogether, poor 
 thing! an' Tiny is showin' symptoms av 
 runnin' a close second to her sister. " 
 
 "That's foive av thim assets av the 
 Prisidint's, " said Mrs. O'Toole calmly. 
 " There do be four av thim lift. Ye can loomp thim if 
 ye'd rather, Mrs. Flannagan." 
 
 "The last four be b'ys at prisint," went on Mrs. 
 Flannagan meekly. " Just phwat they may be later on 
 Oi dunno, Oi'm shure. They're no use at all, at all, but 
 
 UNORIGINAL. 
 '* Jack was so romantic in his proposal ! 
 
 He said 1 was a white pearl shining 
 
 Alice- 
 on a sun-kissed coral strand 
 
 MauJe (disgusted) — " Can't jack ever be original ? He said the same thing to me 
 three years ago, and 1 know that he cribbed the expression from a ten-cent calendar." 
 
 to rush the growler for their father on a Saturday night- 
 They'll do thot same, Mrs. O'Toole, until the cows come 
 home, but divil a thing will they do for me, not 
 if Oi go down on me shin bones to ask it av thim, 
 the divils!" 
 
 "Thim statemints do back 
 
 up my own observations 
 
 remar-rkable 
 
 Flannagan," 
 
 thoughtfully. 
 
 THE SOUVENIR CRAZE. 
 Pat (just over) — " Do ye moind phat Oi be ahher bringin' home 
 They was givin' 'em away on ih' cyan. ' 
 
 -all these coolered s' uvenirs ? 
 
 in a 
 manner, Mrs. 
 said Ann O'Toole 
 " An' it's quare, 
 but thim silfsame assets seem to 
 be in ivery tiniment t'ro'out the 
 lingth an' bredth av Noo Yor-rk 
 City. It do be strange, Mrs. 
 Flannagan, if children are a na- 
 tional asset, tho it should be 
 nicissary to build so monny re- 
 for-rmatories for thim. But it's 
 a strange wur-rld, Mrs. Flanna- 
 gan, an' we have a quare way 
 av balancin' our account wid it, 
 Oi'm afther thinkin' I If children 
 loike yours — an' there don't be 
 onny great difference in children, 
 Mrs. Flannagan — if children av 
 this brand do be national assets, 
 phwat in the name av the Howly 
 Virgin an all the saints are the 
 national liabilities, Mrs. Flan- 
 nagan?"
 
 en E 
 
 LjJ o 
 Z - 
 
 Hi
 
 WAl-T 
 
 tCvHH 
 
 7 
 
 OUT OF HEARING. 
 
 Disconsolate duck — " There ! that fellow is telling 
 the ostrich a fine joke and I can't get in on it." 
 
 He Took a Correspondence Course. 
 
 JOHN PRESCOTT MIDDLETON, ESQ., the corpulent 
 president of the Amalgamated Interstate Ice Com- 
 pany, treasurer of the Brown Security and Finance Com- 
 pany, whirled around in his office chair and frowned at 
 the slowly-opening door of his private office. 
 
 The door opens wider. Enter a long, cadaverous in- 
 dividual with dreamy eyes. He gazes at the president 
 with a far-away look, and hands him a note. The presi- 
 dent reads it half aloud. 
 
 " My Dear Sir — Directly underneath you are forty 
 pounds of dynamite. I own the 
 office below, and have skillfully 
 arranged the apparatus which 
 will blow you into eternity if I 
 raise my hand to give the signal. 
 Yes, I am crazy, perhaps ; but 
 do not get excited and puff up, 
 for I might give the signal 
 
 U-^«v;:rs, 
 
 the slightest provocation. Remain calm until you finish 
 this letter. Prepare yourself for a few minutes of cool, 
 subdued thinking— perhaps the last thoughts you will 
 ever think. Man, I need $5,000, and need it quickly. 
 Perhaps I have said enough. 
 
 " Sulphurously yours. The Bearer." 
 
 The president grows purple. The cadaverous indi- 
 vidual raises his hand and says, 
 
 " Listen! Having succeeded in securing your utmost 
 attention (a matter very difficult with a man of your 
 position), I beg of you not to call the police or raise an 
 alarm. I have no dynamite ! I simply have here a won- 
 derful corn-cure — Bunkum's One-hour Corn-cure. Why, 
 man alive ! it's worth " 
 
 Bang! Crash! Brrrrrrr, krrrrrb, brrr! ■ Thump! 
 
 " And to think," said the cadaverous individual as he 
 picked himself up at the bottom of the stairs, " that I 
 have just finished a correspondence course in advertising 
 writing, and that was the scheme on page fourteen. 
 ' F.'rst get your customer's attention, then pound him 
 with the goods, ' was the idea " chahles h. pitch. 
 
 In the South. 
 
 ** r^^^ ^°" ^""^ ^ dark-skinned man running down the 
 
 '^ road?" 
 
 " Well, I saw a man in the hands of a mob about a 
 mile down the pike. He was dark, all right, and I 
 'spect he's skinned by this time." 
 
 ^^4^ 
 
 INFANT WONDER 
 ' If you're a real dog why don't you batk ?" 
 
 THE CAUSE AND EFFECT. 
 
 Jealous suitor — " Of course he clasped you in his arms when the boat 
 upset ?" 
 
 Fashion-plate — " No ; just the opposite." 
 
 Jealous suitor — " Just the opposite? What do you mean?" 
 
 Fashion-plate — " Why, the fjoat upset when he clasped me in his armi,"
 
 ii 
 
 H 
 
 ►YPNERTISM is th' dumbdest thing I ever 
 run agin," said Eliphalet Briggs. "Al- 
 ways made chills run up my back to think 
 of it, until I see this feller over to Exiry 
 t'other evenin'. He wa'n't at all scary — not a bit. 
 Jest about throw a feller into a fit a-laughin', though. 
 I was that sore when th' show let out I could hardly get 
 off'n my chair — that's a fact!" 
 
 Briggs tapped his pipe against his boot heel and lei- 
 surely replenished it. After it had got to going good 
 he looked over at Thompson, the proprietor, and re- 
 marked casually, 
 
 " Roll up a couple pounds o' them best prunes, Eli. 
 Ye'll have to book it, I guess, seein's I left my pocket- 
 book to home on th' radiator." 
 
 The proprietor was trimming up the cheese with the 
 scissors. He laid these down and faced about. 
 
 " I sent you a letter to-day, 'Liph — did you get it?" 
 he asked. 
 
 " Yep, Eli, I did. You're a fine writer, Eli. But I 
 can't do nothin' for ye jest yet. Them two shotes o' 
 mine are too light for 
 market, Eli. Give 'em 
 time — an' swill — an' 
 they'll amount to some- 
 thin'!" 
 
 Thompson snorted in 
 righteous indignation- and 
 resumed h i s unfinished 
 trimming operation. 
 
 Bill Fikes stirred un- 
 easily and crossed his 
 legs. 
 
 " What about that 
 hypnotist, 'Liph?" he 
 ventured. 
 
 The crowd threw Bill 
 a bouquet of admiring 
 glances and hitched near- 
 er the speaker of the even- 
 ing. Briggs, after allow- 
 ing a look of surprise to 
 drift aimlessly over his 
 countenance, fitted h i s 
 pipe in the extreme cor- 
 ner of his mouth and re- 
 sumed. 
 
 " I can't tell jest all 
 that he did^for there was 
 some things I didn't 
 ketch onto. First he took 
 a bunch o' young bloods 
 up onto th' stage, an' felt 
 o' their heads to see if 
 
 The 
 
 they had brains in 'em or jest ground feed. He said 
 he'd found some fellers with too much brains for th' 
 hypnertism business, an' a whole lot more that didn't 
 have no more sign o' brains than a hitchin'-post. Said 
 what he was lookin' after was fellers with jest ordinary 
 brains — sort o' medium, not raw, nor yet overdone. 
 
 " After he'd sorted a while he picked out half a dozen 
 fellers an' said he guessed he was ready to begin th' fun. 
 After he'd cracked a few ol' jokes at th' audience he 
 turned on them fellers real sudden an' says, 
 
 " ' Boys, I've jest noticed that you're all stuck fast 
 to them seats. You can't get loose! Jest see if you 
 can, boys!' 
 
 "Say, you'd 'a' died right there! Them six fellers 
 nigh worked 'emselves into a fever try in' to get away 
 from them, chairs. But they couldn't. When we was 
 jest gaspin' for breath, th' hypnertizer eased 'em up by 
 tellin' 'em he was mistaken an' that he guessed they 
 could get loose all right. Th' fellers stood up an' looked 
 at each other sheepish. 
 
 " Th' hypnertist come down front an' told us to be 
 
 careful not to hurt th' 
 boys' feelin's by laughin', 
 as they were doin' th' 
 best they could. 
 
 " Then he give a jump 
 at th' fellers an' tells 
 'em their noses are all 
 made out o' rubber. 
 Maybe them boys didn't 
 look surprised! They 
 reached up an' felt o' 
 their noses kind of easy, 
 an' looked so foolish it 
 would give ye a coughin' 
 fit to look at. One feller 
 stretched his nose out 
 about two feet, an' it 
 slipped out o' his fingers 
 an' — kabang! It nigh 
 knocked 'im down! O' 
 course this was jest in 
 their minds, ye know. 
 But they acted it mighty 
 exact an' appropriate, I 
 tell ye. 
 
 "After that th' hyp- 
 nertizer told 'em he was 
 goin' to take 'em fishin'. 
 He led 'em up to th' front 
 o' th' stage an' swings 
 out his arm. 
 
 " ' Look, boys! See 
 this big pond chuck full 
 
 ''M^'^ 
 
 _ 
 
 OBITUARY. 
 
 ck of the walk out in Brewster 
 
 Was a corpulent old Shanghai rooster. 
 Thanksgiving, 'tis said, 
 They chopped off his head, 
 
 And now he don't crow like he uster.
 
 HE KNEW. 
 
 O' Hooly — " Do ye be knowin' phat's causin' all this rumpus wid Japan, Misther O'Rooly ?' 
 O' Rooly — " Why, Oi see be th' papers ihot in some av thim auction-rooms in th' big cities they do be 
 always knocKin' down Japanase art goods, an' Oi guiss th' Japs ain't goin' to shiand fer it anny longer. 
 
 o' big, fat suckers! Throw in your hooks an' see what 
 you can land !' 
 
 " He handed 'em little switches with pieces o' string 
 tied to 'em, an' they started in. It was th' greatest 
 fishin' I ever see. We jest laid right back on th' cush- 
 ions an' cackled. One feller thought he had a whale on, 
 an' he nigh broke his back pullin' it in. When he did, 
 he made a flyin' leap onto th' hypnertizer's grip an' hung 
 to it for dear life. Yell? Maybe we didn't!" 
 
 Briggs paused to retamp his pipe and get a fresh 
 breath. 
 
 " What else, 'Liph?" prompted Fikes. 
 
 " Well, he had them fellers up in balloons, an' chasin' 
 rats, an' in swimmin', an' pursued by hornets, an' eatin' 
 hot pie, an' such things till twelve o'clock. It beat 
 anything I ever see or expect to ag'in." 
 
 The speaker allowed this to sink in thoroughly. Then 
 he arose and brushed a pipeful of hot ashes from his vest 
 front. He was just sitting down again when the door 
 opened and Ephrum Smith came in. He scanned the 
 gp-oup narrowly until his eye fell on Briggs, who favored 
 him with a reassuring wink. 
 
 Close behind Smith was another figure — a stranger. 
 He had a distinctly metallic face, being possessed of a 
 complexion of bronze, a jaw of iron, and eyes with a 
 steely glitter. At sight of him Eliphalet Briggs leaped 
 to his feet and exclaimed huskily, 
 
 "By gum! It's th' hypnertist feller !" 
 
 Instantly all eyes drew a bead on the dark stranger. 
 
 Smith, noticing the inter- 
 est, blushed rosily and 
 stroked his chin stubble. 
 "Yep, boys; Briggs is 
 right. This is Perfesser 
 — Perfesser — what's that 
 name ag'in, perfesser?" 
 "Bonelli," said the 
 stranger, in a low, even 
 tone. 
 
 "Oh, yes! Well, boys, 
 this is Perfesser Bone 
 Ella, an' he is a hypner- 
 tist. I run onto him down 
 to th' depot, where he 
 was waitin' for th' nine^ 
 fifteen train. Bein' an 
 accommodatin' feller, he 
 is goin' to give us an ex- 
 hibition jest to pass th' 
 time away." 
 
 Smith hesitated, made 
 a sweeping bow and 
 glanced expectantly at 
 the stranger. He stepped 
 slightly forward. 
 
 " Mr. Smith is cor- 
 rect, gentlemen," said 
 he. "I have a few mo- 
 ments of time to dispose 
 of, and as your friend in- 
 timated that you were 
 liable to show some skepticism I consented to appear. I 
 trust it will not interfere with business, Mr. Pro- 
 prietor?" 
 
 Thompson expanded visibly at being thus interrogated 
 and replied, 
 
 " Not in the slightest, professor, I assure you." 
 " Thanks. And will some gentleman have the kind- 
 ness to volunteer as a subject?" 
 
 Dead, clammy silence prevailed, while the professor 
 rolled his sleeves back in a businesslike manner. 
 
 " Come, come, men — suggest somebody," he urged. 
 " Thompson !" came a voice. 
 " That's it— Thompson!" added another. 
 Thompson colored a brilliant mauve tint. He also 
 coughed. 
 
 " Come on, Mr. Thompson," said the hypnotist coax- 
 ingly. " There is no danger, and, besides, you may not 
 be a satisfactory subject. It will require but a moment 
 to decide. There— hold your head in that position and 
 think — absolutely — of nothing." 
 
 " I — I can't!" said Thompson desperately. 
 "Then think of this gentleman here," said the pro- 
 fessor, tapping Briggs lightly on the top of the head. 
 Briggs wilted perceptibly. 
 
 Obediently Thompson focused his gaze on an antique 
 hornet's nest on the ceiling and breathed in a labored 
 manner. The professor tiptoed toward him, frowned, 
 sighed, gritted his teeth and snapped his fingers per- 
 plexedly.
 
 " I'm sorry, Mr. Thompson," he said; " but the rare- 
 factions of your molecular resistance are too cohesive 
 for proper ratiocination of extraneous impressions." 
 
 Thompson looked slightly pu;-zled and resumed his 
 gaze at the hornet's nest. 
 
 " You are excused, Mr. Thompson," mildly remarked 
 the hypnotist. 
 
 Thompson swallowed the lump that had grown in his 
 throat and retired to the protection of the counter. 
 
 "Try 'Liph Briggs, perfesser," suggested Smith. 
 " Seems to me 'Liph's stupefactions are about amalga- 
 mous to your work." 
 
 The professor started and glanced at the speaker in a 
 surprised manner, while Briggs rose half-way and re- 
 moved his pipe. 
 
 " I'll go in pervidin' Eph Smith goes too," 
 said Briggs firmly. 
 
 " Come on — you don't bluff me," said Smith. 
 
 When the two stood up together, Briggs 
 surreptitiously pinched Smith's left leg. Smith 
 returned the caress, and mutual confidence was 
 established. While the professor was rear- 
 ranging the scenery Briggs whispered anxiously 
 to his companion, 
 
 " Is it all fixed, Eph?" 
 
 " Sure — th' perfesser is on — it's O. K." 
 
 Then the hypnotist faced them, made a hur- 
 ried preliminary examination, which proved 
 satisfactory, and remarked to the audience, 
 
 " These are good subjects. One has a wee 
 trifle more brains than the law allows, the 
 other not quite enough, but they balance up 
 pretty well." 
 
 Briggs and Smith glared at each other a 
 brief instant, then looked at the professor 
 again. 
 
 " I will now demonstrate a few of the 
 strange wonders of hypnotism. By placing 
 these two gentlemen in a hypnotic state, I 
 will be able to control their actions by sugges- 
 tions given by myself. Are you ready, gen- 
 tlemen?" 
 
 " Yes," said the two aspirants, in a breath. 
 
 The hypnotist made two rapid passes, picked 
 a few imaginary cherries off the victims' nos- 
 trils and exclaimed, 
 
 " Gentlemen, you are Plymouth Rock roost- 
 ers and it is three o'clock in the morning. Time 
 to crow, isn't it?" 
 
 To the amazement of the crowd Briggs and 
 Smith flopped their arms wildly and engaged 
 in a vigorous crowing duet. 
 
 "Great! Make 'em fight, perfesser!" de- 
 manded* Bill Fikes. 
 
 Before the professor could voice the sugges- 
 tion, however, the two roosters had discovered 
 an animus and were facing each other in con- 
 ventional style. Smith, in executing a series 
 of defiant scratches, kicked over the mackerel 
 pail. 
 
 " Hi! Stop that!" yelled Thompson. 
 
 " They can't hear you — they're under the influence," 
 said the hypnotist. 
 
 " Well, change 'em into something else — I don't want 
 any poultry in here," growled the proprietor. 
 
 The professor spoke sternly to the combatants and 
 they desisted at once. 
 
 " Boys," said the hypnotist, addressing his assistants, 
 " I've just noticed that there are live tarantulas crawl- 
 ing all over you. Get 'em off, quick !" 
 
 Smith and Briggs jumped a yard high and emitted 
 war whoops of fright. Then they began to shed clothing 
 with terrible earnestness. At the proper moment the 
 hypnotist halted them and trld them thoy had been if 
 swimming, and that the fiist one to gel his clathss M 
 would win a prize. A race ensued that threw the crowd 
 
 A FIEPROOF. 
 
 ** Tom, it's dreadful for you lo lose so much money gambling.** 
 *' Do you want me to renounce the card-table ?" 
 " No, dear ; 1 want you to play a better game."
 
 into pangs of joy. The professor smiled blandly and 
 glanced at the proprietor. 
 
 " I will now produce the most difficult and peculiar 
 feat in the hypnotic art. It is known as the recurrent 
 exhibition. For instance, I command the subject to per- 
 form something to-day and impress upon him that he 
 must do the same thing every day for a week or a 
 month. He will carry out the schedule faithfully, no 
 matter how many hundred miles I am away." 
 
 The professor glanced about, apparently striving to 
 think of some simple little feat that would serve as an 
 example of his claim. At length he seemed to solve it. 
 
 " Boys," said he, confronting the subjects, " did you 
 know that the proprietor of this store is a most generous 
 man? He is so liberal that he insists upon presenting 
 this entire store to you for five minutes every day for a 
 whole month ! He says — hold on !" 
 
 The subjects had made a concerted move toward the 
 cider barrel. 
 
 " He says that you must use discretion and modera- 
 tion, but that you are to consider everything eatable and 
 drinkable as yours. I must leave to catch my train now, 
 boys, and you may go ahead. It is all yours for five 
 minutes, remember!" 
 
 The professor remained merely long enough to see his 
 subjects jump heatedly over the counter and throw the 
 startled proprietor into the middle of the floor. When 
 he passed the window he saw them grouped before the 
 cider barrel, while Thompson stood aloof with his watch 
 in hand and a pained expression running riot over his 
 features. 
 
 The ensuing five minutes were busy ones for the hyp- 
 notized. They ate and drank freely, lit cigars and nib- 
 bled promiscuously from candy to codfish. They were 
 entirely at peace with the world when Thompson's watch 
 cheered its owner by ticking off the last second 
 of the allotted time. 
 
 " Time 's up!" yelled the proprietor. " Get 
 out of that, you infernal thieves!" 
 
 The subjects gave sudden starts of surprise, 
 rubbed their eyes and stole out from behind the 
 counter. 
 
 " What was we doin', boys?" asked Smith, 
 as he removed his cigar and eyed it proudly. 
 
 Thompson saw his chance in a flash and 
 stepped forward. 
 
 " I'll tell ye. That hypnertist told ye that 
 ye was in th' army an' th' enemy was comin' 
 on full tilt. He ordered ye to charge, an' you 
 fellers jumped over the counter an' hid behind 
 th' cheese box. Didn't they, boys?" 
 
 "Yep!" 
 
 "You bet!" 
 
 Smith and Briggs looked guiltily at each 
 other and grinned. Thompson breathed easier 
 as he went back and took a look at the havoc. 
 A hasty inventory told him that the five min- 
 utes of foreign proprietorship had cost him in 
 the neighborhood of one dollar and eighty-five 
 cents. He saw at a glance that a thirty-day 
 
 repetition of such ^ "recurrent exhibition" First statesman— 
 
 spelled ruin Second statesmati 
 
 He slept fitfully that night. Twice he dreamed that 
 he choked a hypnotist to death and threw his worthless 
 carcass into the briny billows of the ocean. 
 
 In his mail next morning was a postal card addressed 
 in a small, crabbed, anarchistic script. 
 
 " Asafcetida cures recurrent exhibitions. Bonelli." 
 
 Thompson perused this message several times before 
 the cobwebs cleared from his brain. Then he saw a 
 great — a magnificent light. He bought a quarter's 
 worth. Personal investigation proved that the drug was 
 still in possession of all its youthful faculties. Thomp- 
 son deftly buttered some choice honey creams with the 
 hypnotism panacea, and disposed the creams in a most 
 enticing manner. He then surveyed his handiwork and 
 patted himself on the back — mentally. 
 
 " Let 'em recur — blame 'em!" he hissed. 
 
 They recurred. Promptly at the minute Smith and 
 Briggs bounded into the tobacco smoke and landed amid 
 the eatables. They had been there about seventeen 
 seconds when Briggs located the honey creams. One 
 went into his mouth with dispatch, while a second was 
 held in ready reserve. Twice did his jaws come down 
 with hypnotic force — then paused in their stride. He 
 turned undecidedly toward Smith and drew a long, 
 quivery breath. Silently he handed Smith a big honey 
 cream. 
 
 Smith seized the delicacy with avidity and transferred 
 it to his face. A pulsating moment — then he gazed deep 
 into the dewy orbs of his silent partner. They remained 
 thus nearly a minute, while the emporium proprietor 
 leaned back in his chair and slowly grew black in the 
 countenance. 
 
 Then, with muffled yells, the unhypnotized victims 
 leaped the counter and melted away toward the door. 
 
 Hen Sanders found Thompson in a choking condition 
 
 BIG-GUN LOGIC. 
 
 ' But you can't prove that wrong Is right. 
 
 -"Oh, yes, you can^if you have a big enough navy/
 
 LITERALLY ? 
 
 Jinks — " Tliere is a millionaire who began Kis 
 career as clerk in a cigar-store. " 
 
 Bifiks — " Yes ; I heard some one say ihat he 
 had risen from the ranks. " 
 
 and revived him by throwing a mug of cider down his 
 collar. 
 
 It was a full week before the saddened features of 
 the late subjects were noticed in the circle of faces 
 clustered about the emporium stove. Thompson had 
 proved that there are some things far stronger than 
 hypnotism, and he shared his secret with two men — 
 Smith and Briggs. 
 
 A Bark for Barker. 
 
 OpHE EDITOR sat in his easy-chair. Editors always 
 * have easy-chairs — in fiction. He looked at his cor- 
 respondence. He thought he recognized the handwriting 
 on one of the envelopes. He sighed. 
 
 "Another poem," said he, reaching for the waste- 
 paper basket. He opened the letter. He was agreeably 
 disappointed. It was prose. It ran as follows: 
 
 " A man named Barker had a dog that barked, so he 
 called it Barker, because it barked and because his own 
 name was Barker. So the man was Barker, and the dog, 
 that barked, was Barker. The man didn't bark, although 
 his name was Barker. Barker and Barker went for a 
 walk, and Barker barked — that is, dog Barker, not man 
 Barker. In lact, dog Barker barked so much that man 
 Barker said, ' Barker, don't bark so often — you never 
 hear me bark.' Just then man Barker barked his shin 
 on the bark of a tree, and barked like anything." 
 
 The editor paused. There was a note inclosed, which 
 ran, " Please send check for inclosed to me at 1001 Barker 
 Avenue, City." Then did the deus ex-machina write, 
 with a smile, " I have received your joke, and will send 
 check — when my bark comes in." 
 
 Might Get Discouraged. 
 
 « ¥ SEE that a blind man has been nominated for chap- 
 lain of a senate out West." 
 " Well, it's probably best that a man who has to pray 
 for politicians can't see what hopeless cases he is pray- 
 ing for." 
 
 A Good Investment. 
 
 ^The Cuban Asnjntamiento, not finding sufficient money to make very 
 necessary water-works improvements, aroused protests in the news- 
 papers by purchasing a whale for $1,600 for Havana University. — Newt 
 item. 
 
 HERE the food for thought is ample. 
 As a philosophic sample 
 Of a very good example 
 Buy a whale. 
 
 When the gall supplants the honey. 
 When the world no more is sunny, 
 When you haven't any money, 
 Buy a whale. 
 
 When your wife, all pursuits dropping, 
 For a spool of thread goes shopping. 
 Let her surely, prior to stopping. 
 Buy a whale. 
 
 Wall Street lambs will know no slaughter 
 If they draw the line some tauter. 
 And instead of buying water 
 
 Buy a whale. j,c landburgh wilsoh. 
 
 So Long Ago. 
 
 Little nephew — " Grandma, how old are you?" 
 Grandma — " I am seventy-five years old." 
 Little nephew — "Phew! It's so long since you were 
 born I suppose it seems as if it never happened." 
 
 EXPERIENCE THE GREAT TEACHER. 
 
 ' But, Captain Brace, why do they always call a ship ' she ' ?" 
 
 ' Lord, miss I you wouldn't ask that ef you'd ever tried ter steer one.'
 
 Twiggy Is Disengaged 
 
 By William John Barr Moses 
 
 "W 
 
 »HY, WHAT'S the matter, Twiggy?" 
 
 asked Randolph, noting the gloom 
 
 which overhung his young friend's 
 
 countenance, a gloom compared with 
 
 which that of the most sombre undertaker would have 
 
 seemed wild hilarity. 
 
 " Matter?" grunted Van Twilliger, junior, from the 
 profound depths of his dejection. " Matter enough ! I'm 
 engaged." 
 
 " En-ga-a-a-a-ged !" shouted Randolph, with pro- 
 longed emphasis. " Why, man, that's a matter for con- 
 gratulation. That isn't a thing to be so down in the 
 mouth over." 
 
 " P'rhaps not," muttered Twiggy; " 'f a feller was 
 engaged t' only two 'r three girls 'twouldn't be s' bad." 
 
 " You don't mean to say that you're engaged to more 
 than two or three?" queried Randolph aghast. 
 
 " Do, too," asserted Twiggy stoutly. 
 
 " How many?" 
 
 "T' thirteen." 
 
 "Great Scott! Thirteen?" And then, as the full ef- 
 fect of the statement made itself felt, he added, wonder- 
 ingly, after a pause, " Great Jerusalem!" 
 
 " 'Nlucky number," murmured Twiggy with a wan 
 smile. 
 
 Randolph seated himself confidentially by his friend's 
 side and put his hand on the other's arm. 
 
 " Come, tell a fellow all about it," he said ingratiat- 
 ingly. 
 
 "Aw, 't's all Armstrong's fault, " grunted Twiggy. 
 
 "How?" 
 
 Twiggy sat up a little in order to have more freedom 
 for the recital of his wrongs. 
 
 " 'T was this way. Guv'ner said 'd got t' get mar- 
 ried, settle down, all that; cut off my 'lowance 'f didn't. 
 'D set time limit. Just up now. I told Armstrong. 
 He said why not write t' 'bout a dozen girls you used t' 
 know that ain't married or any too well fixed or nothin'. 
 I said, ' no good, couldn't write, do it yourself.' So 1 
 gave him the names. He wrote t' 'm. Every deuced 
 one accepted. Armstrong's got such a way with him." 
 
 " But that's only a dozen. Who's the thirteenth?" 
 
 " Gracie Goldendorn, little flirt. She'd just refused 
 me, then wrote she'd changed her mind. I got her let- 
 ter this mornin' 'long with the rest." 
 
 Randolph was grinning wickedly by this time, but as 
 he caught Twiggy's glance, he grew sober and sym- 
 pathetic. 
 
 " Well," he said thoughtfully, " I suppose you want 
 to keep one of these engagements for your father's 
 sake, so to speak. I should think you could break off 
 the others gradually, one or two at a time, you know, 
 and no particular harm done." 
 
 " See here !" said Twiggy earnestly, " I got t' call on 
 all them girls 's afternoon, or write a note to 'em, or 
 somethin'. T'-morrer th' guv'ner comes down on me. 
 
 Got t' introduce my wife-t'-be t' him at Aunt Martha's 
 'r he cuts my 'lowance off that way." 
 
 Twiggy snapped his fingers feebly. 
 
 " Who are the young ladies?" asked Randolph sud- 
 denly. 
 
 Twiggy went over the list rapidly. Randolph knew 
 them all. With the exception of Gracie Goldendorn they 
 were, he opined, rather back numbers, girls that he and 
 Twiggy had known in childhood, but whose parents had 
 not been so successful as Van Twilliger and Randolph, 
 pater, in the later accumulation of millions. Twiggy 
 explained that these young ladies had been chosen at 
 Armstrong's suggestion as more likely to accept his 
 proposal than those who sat in fortune's luxurious lap. 
 
 "Seems to me," said Randolph slowly, "the thing 
 for you to do. Twiggy, is just this — write to Gracie 
 Goldendorn, that is, if, as I take for granted, you'd rather 
 have her than any of the others, to meet you at your 
 Aunt Martha's to-morrow afternoon for presentation to 
 your father. Then don't write and don't call, and don't 
 pay any attention whatever 
 to the other girls, and if 
 any of them come to see 
 you about it pretend that 
 it's the first you've heard 
 of the whole business, and 
 that Armstrong must have 
 
 A COOL REQUEST. 
 
 Ma. Subbub — " Well, that is about the coolest yeU" 
 
 Mr. Subbub — " What was it ?" 
 
 I^lrs. Subbub — " Why, the lady next door is going to have com« 
 pany to tea, and she wants to freeze the ice-cream, so she just sent ia 
 to see if she could borrow our cake of ice for the rest of the aftemooo.
 
 It s 
 
 up, 
 
 done it for a joke. 
 Threaten to have 
 him up for forgery, 
 you Fnow, and the 
 girl will think 
 all right." 
 
 Twiggy sat 
 electrified. 
 
 "I say , Ran- 
 dolph, old feller," 
 he exclaimed grate- 
 fully, "you have 
 got a head on you, 
 ain't you?" 
 
 But a moment 
 later a shadow fell 
 upon his face. 
 
 "I say, you 
 know, Randy, I 
 ain't no good at 
 writin' nothin'. 
 Would you mind 
 writin' that note 
 t' Gracie for a fel- 
 ler?" 
 
 "Not at all," 
 said Randolph 
 heartily, seizing a 
 pen. "You give 
 me full permission 
 to sign your name, 
 of course?" 
 
 " Sure," said Twiggy, and Randolph began to write. 
 
 Shortly after the note was written and sent off 
 Twiggy took his departure, not neglecting to thank his 
 friend again for his kindness, and as soon as hs was 
 gone, Randolph, with a wicked smile on his lips, "set to 
 work to write twelve more notes exactly like the first in 
 purport, but each addressed to a different young lady. 
 •' Twiggy's Aunt Martha was a somewhat peculiar 
 woman, a talkative person and not in the least secretive. 
 Unfortunately, both Twiggy and his father were some- 
 what delayed in keeping their appointment the next 
 afternoon and the thirteen young ladies arrived before 
 them. Aunt Martha knew them all, although she had 
 not been on calling terms with any of them except Gracie 
 Goldendorn, and was in consequence not a little puzzled 
 that they had come to see her. Gracie had been first on 
 the scene, and Aunt Martha, suspecting that she was the 
 young lady upon whom Twiggy had fixed his choice, asked 
 her point blank about the matter and had had her im- 
 pression confirmed. As she met the second young lady 
 at the door, she whispered to her that Twiggy was at last 
 engaged and that he expected to introduce the young 
 lady to her future father-in-law there that very after- 
 noon. The second young lady blushed and said she 
 believed so. The other eleven, greeted in the same 
 manner, all blushed and believed bo, also, and were all 
 amazed to find that other young ladies of their acquaint- 
 ance had chanced to call on Aunt Martha on that par- 
 ticular afternoon. 
 
 Conversation in 
 the drawing-room 
 was somewhat con- 
 strained and nerv- 
 ous, but fortunately 
 Aunt Martha had 
 been too busy wel- 
 coming comers at 
 the door to mention 
 the subject of Twig- 
 gy's engagement to 
 the assembly of his 
 fiancees when Mr. 
 Van Twilliger, sen- 
 ior, arrived. 
 
 This portly old 
 gentleman, with his 
 red, bald head, red 
 chin, white hair, 
 and white side- 
 whiskers, entered 
 the room smiling 
 and rubbing his 
 hands. The thirteen 
 young ladies rose, 
 somewhat blushing- 
 ly, and advanced 
 with one accord to 
 meet him. 
 
 Mr. Van Twilli- 
 ger extended both 
 his hands — it was 
 all he had — and six of the young ladies seized his left 
 hand while seven fastened upon his right. 
 
 " A very happy, happy occasion," murmured the old 
 gentleman, delighted beyond measure.' " Childhood 
 friends of Archibald's I perceive, come doubtless to con- 
 gratulate him upon his good fortune." 
 
 He gazed about benevolently and smiled into the 
 cluster of pretty faces. 
 
 ■ " But which, if I may ask," he continued blandy, " is 
 the one?" 
 
 The thirteen young ladies blushingly bowed their 
 heads and in concert murmured, 
 "I— I am." 
 
 " What?" exclaimed Mr. Van Twilliger, starting back 
 and releasing his hands from the clasp of the fair ones. 
 
 " What?" exclaimed the thirteen young ladies again 
 in concert, also starting back and looking with mingled 
 anger and surprise at one another. 
 
 Just then Twiggy, escorted by his radiant Aunt 
 Martha, entered the room and stood spellbound near the 
 threshold. 
 
 His father turned toward him wrathfully. 
 "Archibald, come here." 
 
 Twiggy advanced weakly and stood beside his father 
 and in front of the thirteen young ladies, who with flam- 
 ing cheeks, tossing chins, and accusing eyes, now stood 
 in an irregular line. 
 
 " Now, sir," resumed the irate parent, " will you tell 
 me, are you engaged or not?" 
 
 DIVIDEND JUST DUE. 
 
 " But wouldn't you like to live your lite over again?" 
 
 " Not so as you could notice it. I've got a twenty-year insurance policy coming 
 due next week."
 
 " Yessir," murmured Twiggy meekly. 
 
 " You are engaged?" 
 
 "Yessir." 
 
 "Then will you please inform me, plainly and dis- 
 tinctly, to which one of these young ladies it is that you 
 are betrothed?" 
 
 "All 'f 'm," murmured Twiggy resignedly. 
 
 " All of them!" shouted the old gentleman, stamping 
 the floor in his rage, while murmurs of anger and sur- 
 prise arose from the lips of the young ladies. "Now 
 what sort of a trick is this?" 
 
 " No trick 't all, 't's so." 
 
 Purple with strangled profanity Van Twilliger, pater, 
 turned to the indignant young ladies. Gracie Golden- 
 dorn happened to be at one end of the line. 
 
 " Is it true. Miss Goldendorn," asked Mr. Van Twil- 
 liger in trembling accents, " that you are willing to 
 marry this idiotic scapegrace?" 
 
 '.' It is not," said Miss Goldendorn decidedly. 
 
 "And you?" continued Mr. Van Twilliger, address- 
 ing the second young lady. 
 
 "No." 
 
 " And you?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 And so he went on down the line, asking the same 
 question in turn of the whole thirteen, and receiving in 
 every case the same emphatic negative. 
 
 " And now, sir," he said, turning to his son when he 
 had finished, " in the face of all these young ladies, do 
 you pretend to tell me that you are engaged?" 
 
 " Well," said Twiggy, slowly and rather resentfully, 
 " I was engaged, anyway, an' now 'f I am — er — er — 
 disengaged, it ain't my fault." 
 
 Supposin'. 
 
 SHOULD America get scrappy with the snappy little 
 Jappy ; 
 Should America get scrappy with the snappy Jappy chap, 
 We should show the little Banzai an immense extrava- 
 
 ganzai — 
 We should look a heap sight bigger to the dusky little 
 
 man's eye. 
 We should give him, sure's the dickens, one of the com- 
 
 pletest lickin's 
 That the world has ever witnessed since the flock of 
 
 prairie chickens 
 Came to feed old Jacob's offspring as they roamed the 
 
 wilderness — 
 Oh, that slant-eyed little upstart would be mingled in a 
 
 mess! 
 
 Should Unk. Sammy grow indignant, grow malignant, 
 
 unbenignant; 
 Should Unk. Sammy grow malignant and should suddenly 
 
 renig 
 From the attitude so kindly he has held, though never 
 
 blindly, 
 Should he drop the friendly attitude he's always held 
 
 designedly. 
 Something stronger than jiu-jitsu would lay hold on 
 
 Mutsuhitsu, 
 Till you'd wonder, scrappy Jappy, what in thunderation 
 
 hit you. 
 Yea; should Uncle Sam get scrappy with the yappy, 
 
 snappy Jap, 
 We should give him what our mother used to give us 
 O er her lap. Strickland w. gillilan.
 
 His Ultimatum 
 
 By Tom Masson 
 
 AFTER Crumpet had seen hia wife off on the train 
 he returned to his quiet house, closed the door, 
 and gazed around at the rows of inviting books, 
 at the table of smoking materials, at the grate fire ready 
 to light, and his eyes glistened with joy. 
 
 " Old man!" he exclaimed to himself, " what a time 
 you'll have! Wife away at last, and now there will be 
 time to do all those little things you've wanted to do for 
 so long — to read, to loaf, to think, and invite one's soul." 
 At this moment the telephone rang. It was Crumpet's 
 neighbor, Alstar. 
 
 "Hello! Crumpet, this you? Say, I've just learned 
 your wife has gone away. Why didn't you let us know? 
 Of course you mustn't stay alone. Come right over and 
 take dinner with us." 
 
 Crumpet's heart sank, but he was equal to the emer- 
 gency. 
 
 " Can't come to-night, old chap, thank you. I've got 
 an engagement." 
 
 " Well, to-morrow night." 
 
 " Sorry, but" 
 
 "The next night?" 
 
 " Very well— I guess so. I'll let you know." 
 " We shall surely expect you." 
 "Thanks." 
 
 Crumpet, heaving a sigh of relief that at least he had 
 that evening to himself, once more sank back in his chair. 
 But not for long. Telephone once more. This time 
 it was Carter. 
 
 " This you, Crumpet? Why didn't you tell me your 
 wife was away? Well, never mind. You mustn't be 
 alone. Shall expect you to take dinner with us every 
 night. Come right over What! not to-night? To- 
 morrow? No? Well, 
 make it Thursday. All 
 right. Good ! Know 
 hrw it is myself." 
 
 Crumpet waited to 
 hear no more. He 
 picked up his hat and 
 coat, dashed out of the 
 door, and made his way 
 to the nearest stenogra- 
 pher's. 
 
 " Here!" he said; 
 " I'll give you a list of 
 addresses. Take this 
 letter and send it to 
 every one at once. 1 
 may lose every friend 
 I have in the world," 
 he muttered, "but I 
 can't help it." 
 
 The letter he dictat- 
 ed was as follows : 
 
 " To Friends and 
 
 Neighbors— For the first time in years my good wife has 
 gone away on a visit and left me alone. Contrary to 
 all expectations, I am enjoying myself. I've looked for- 
 ward to being alone for weeks. I love to be alone. I 
 may be peculiar, I may be a crank; but if you have any 
 regard for me don't ask me out to dinner. Don't sug- 
 gest that at this critical time I leave my home, for I 
 wouldn't do it unless the house burned down. 
 " Respectfully, sincerely and firmly, 
 
 " A. Crumpet." 
 
 The Football Hero Comes. 
 
 HIS nose is strapped and wrapped up in a near-soft 
 leather pouch; 
 Each musty muscle's cricking as he practices his crouch. 
 (For him the pudgy surgeon is preparing a soft couch.) 
 Some things like pancake-turners hold his near-small 
 
 ears in place; 
 His htad is kept together by a hair-lined, pot-like brace. 
 (The stocky doctor's at his heels with medicine-filled 
 
 case.) 
 He wears a woolen envelope, or sweater, without fleck ; 
 He stands with hands prepared some one's anatomy to 
 
 wreck 
 (Or gently land with his soft corns on his opponent's 
 
 neck). 
 He's dubbed the Brawny Vizier of the Pigskin and his 
 
 Viz. 
 Has strips of courtly plaster on his almost-hidden phiz — ■ 
 All these things prove the 'rah-'rah hero's now on deck 
 
 for biz. p_ p_ piTZER. 
 
 Appropriately Named. 
 
 'l^HE BOY in the paint-store dashed hurriedly up the 
 * cellar steps and sought the proprietor. 
 
 " There's a barrel leaking in the basement!" he cried, 
 " and the automobile stuff is just pouring out." 
 
 " Why do you call it 
 
 automobile stuff?" 
 asked the proprietor. 
 
 "Because," gasped 
 the youngster, "it's 
 running over everything 
 in sight." 
 
 The Difference. 
 
 'l^HE difference is that 
 * the pessimist finds 
 fault with everything 
 else and the optimist 
 finds fault with the pes- 
 simist. 
 
 Prudential. 
 « 1U[RS. WINDSOR 
 is a prudent 
 woman, isn't she?'" 
 
 " Very. She always 
 lives within her ali- 
 mony." 
 
 UNUSUAL. 
 " And after they were married did they do anything unusual ?" 
 " Yes ; they stayed married."
 
 A Very Still Day in Pinhook 
 
 DERE JUDGE— You ort to ov ben hear last week, 
 on Friday, an ef you hed, you would surtingly hev 
 hed to laflf fit to kill ovver the fearful still day 
 we hed hear on last Friday. It beet awl the records 
 clene out an' evven old Grandaddy Perrick, as come hear 
 an' settled seventy-nine yeer ago, never seen nothin' like 
 it ner neer like it. The wind was a-blowin' big guns 
 at nine o'clock in the forenoon, jest a humpin' it good 
 an' plenty from the southwest an' then, without no 
 warnin,' an' awl ov a suddint, quickeren a wink, she 
 stopped dead still, deadern Julius Seezer. 
 
 Mayor Willson was a comin' up the streat, facin' 
 the wind, a bendin' way ovver forruds to keep from bein' 
 blowed backards, an' hed jest met up with Jack Hanson 
 a comin' t'other way, a-bendin' backards es fur es he 
 could to keep from bein' blowed forruds, an' the wind 
 stopped so mighty quick that both ov 'em fell flat to the 
 sidewalk, one backards an' one furruds, an' Hanson he 
 purty neer busted in the back of his hed. 
 
 From then on forruds awl that thare day clene through 
 till mornin' ov the next day thare wa'n't the leest sign 
 ov no wind a tall; not a smidgin, ner a whifF. Nobody 
 newer seen nothin' so still no time ner nowhare. Bill 
 Petei's shot a cat fer chicken-eetin abowt ten o'clock an' 
 the smoke frum the gun stade right thare in the same 
 
 MUST BE MISTAKEN. 
 " Is it really you ? Murphy told me you were dead." 
 " Oi was all roighl whin Oi saw him laskt" 
 
 plase whare the gun went off the hull day long an' wuz 
 thare at midnight fer, although you couldn't see it then, 
 sum ov us went out an' smelt it jest to see ef it was still 
 thare, an' it wuz thare. 
 
 I stuck a lath up in the ground at 'levven o'clock in 
 the fournoon an' then put a little peece ov thistle down 
 right ovver the top ov it, in the air, six inches above 
 the top end ov the lath, an' by the long-horned spoon it 
 newer moved a mite one way ner a nuther ner up 
 ner down an' wuz rite thare at sevven o'clock in the 
 evenin'. 
 
 Hirum Wilkins set a j'int ov stovepipe strate up on 
 legs so's he could lay down on his back an' stick his hed 
 under it an' look up through it an' then he let a little 
 balloon rase up through the stovepipe an' go off up into 
 the air an' it kep' a rasin' slowly, but so dern strate up 
 that a feller could see it an hour arterwurds, er more, 
 till it got clene up outen ov sight, by layin' on his back 
 an' lookin' up through the stovepipe. 
 
 The rodes wuz so full ov dust fer abowt twelve feet 
 high that you couldn't see acrost 'em without gittin' up 
 in a tree, an' the clerk to the hotel he went out on the 
 porch an' ballanced twelve wheet straws strate up on 
 end an' let 'em stay thare all the arternoon long, an' 
 some boys klimed up onto the roof ov the mill an' stuck 
 a shingle with a not hole into it outen ovver the edge of 
 the roof and then dropped musterd seed through it an' 
 down into a teacup sixty feet below an' newer a seed 
 missed the cup. Thay wa'n't a sign ov wind to blow 
 the breth away arter it wuz breathed out, an' ef you 
 didn't move you'd suck it in ag'in an' blow it out ov- 
 ver an' ovver till you wuz jest abowt smuddered. My 
 unckle on my father's side, James George, he lives with 
 me an' n; hez a big nufunlan' dog, weighs abowt 167 
 pound, an' that thare dog wuz too lazy to move an' he 
 mighty neer dide with smudderin'. He would git abowt 
 awl gone an' then my unckle would ketch him by the tale 
 an' draw him a little furder along on the porch whare 
 the air wuzzent used up an' then leave him lay till he 
 got gaspin' hard ag'in an' then drag him furder, er drag 
 him back, an' he kep' that up awl day an' awl night an' 
 purty neer tired hisself clene out an' purty neer wored 
 awl the hare offen the bottom ov the dog a-draggin' him. 
 
 You surtingly ot tu hev ben hear. 
 
 Le Sueur Lyre. 
 
 Ancle.it Politics. 
 
 JOSEPH had just been east into the pit. 
 " I can't understand why I am a favorite son," he 
 reflected. " Father hasn't declined a third term." 
 Truly politics were deep even in those days. 
 
 Quick Work. 
 
 Hewitt — " This is an age of hustle." 
 
 Jewett — " You bet ! I met a fellow yesterday who had 
 already made a contract to write a series of magazine 
 articles, giving the history of the Japanese-American 
 war."
 
 On the Turf. 
 
 SOME friends of mine went to the track— 
 And so did I. 
 They said they'd hit the books a whack — 
 And so did I. 
 
 They talked of " ponies " and the " dope "— 
 
 And so did I. 
 They had their bosoms full of hope — 
 
 And so did I. 
 
 They had the tips on how to bet — 
 
 And so did I. 
 They knew just where to spread their net — 
 
 And so did I. 
 
 They said they'd show the bookies what — 
 
 And so did I. 
 They fired their cash in fast and hot — 
 
 And so did I. 
 
 They said they'd make a killing hit — 
 
 And so did I. 
 They piled it on the favorite — 
 
 And so did I. 
 
 They smiled to hear the talent talk — 
 
 And so did I. 
 The fav'rite came hon-,e in a walk — 
 
 And so did I. 
 
 At least, he must have walked, because 
 everything that ran in the race got to the 
 wire before he did. w. j. lampton. 
 
 SHE KNEW IT. 
 ' Well, my dear, I had my life insured to-day." 
 ' That's just like you — always thinking of yourseit I' 
 
 A Practical Heiress 
 
 he asked as he drew his fiancee closer 
 
 urVARLING, 
 
 ^^ to him, " am I the only man you ever kissed?" 
 
 "Charles," she replied somewhat testily, " I wouW 
 like to ask you a few questions before we go any further. 
 You are no doubt aware of the fact that papa is worth 
 several million dollars, aren't you?" 
 
 " Y-yes." 
 
 " You understand, no doubt, that when he dies all of 
 that vast fortune will be left to me?" 
 
 1-yes. 
 
 You know that I have $500,000 in cash in the banks?" 
 
 Y-yes." 
 
 And own half a million dollars' worth of property?" 
 
 Y-yes." 
 
 And many shares of stocks and bonds?" 
 
 Y-yes." 
 
 And that my diamonds are valued at $100,000?" 
 
 Y-yes." 
 
 " And my horses and automobiles at 
 
 $75,000?" 
 
 Y-yes." 
 
 And my yachts at $50,000?" 
 
 Y-yes." 
 
 And my dogs at $25,000?" 
 
 Y-yes." 
 
 Then, for goodness sake! why don't 
 
 talk sense? What difference would it 
 make to you if I had kissed a thousand men 
 before I met you?" 
 
 He hemmed and hawed and stammered 
 and blushed, and tried to think of a suitable 
 reply, but finally had to give it up ; and when 
 the great heiress began to talk of something 
 else he heaved a deep sigh of relief, and 
 swore to himself that he would be more care- 
 ful in the future. 
 
 you 
 
 ^^'*^y 
 
 LEGAL ADVICE VS. MEDICAL. 
 Fint magnate — " My doctor advised me to take a trip abroad for my health, but 
 I'm not going. " 
 
 Second magnate — " My lawyer gave me the same advice, and I am going. 
 
 Would Cost More. 
 
 Mistress — " More than anything else, I 
 want a servant who has some refinement." 
 
 Applicant— " Y\s, mum; but Oi'll be 
 afther chargin' yez more if Oi hov to in- 
 shtruct yez in th' ways av sassiety."
 
 Do You Want That Raise? 
 
 OT!R GRAFT ('ORKESPONDENCE SCHOOL WILL GET IT 
 FOR YOU. 
 
 'l^HE WORLD of graft is always looking for bad men. 
 * Are YOU in on it? By studying daytimes YOU 
 can raise your position from that of a porch-climber, or 
 second-story man, or pick- 
 pocket, to a high position 
 in society. The swell hotels 
 and penitentiaries await 
 YOU. We will prove our 
 ability by cheating you. 
 We can point to hundreds 
 of cashiers in Canada who 
 tried our methods. One 
 student climbed from the 
 position of street-car con- 
 ductor, in which he knocked 
 down fares, to that of the 
 manager of the worst street 
 railway system in the 
 coun+ry through our aid. 
 DO IT NOW. 
 if you want to rise t.i a position where you can steal 
 a thousand a week, clip off the coupon below and send it 
 to us, with your choice marked. We will send you abso- 
 lutely free full information about qualifying for any 
 position. We furnish all text-books, and cheat our stu- 
 dents by the installment plan, or any other they desire. 
 Any honest and industrious thief can become an em- 
 bezzler fiith a little study. 
 
 This grafter look our course. 
 
 ^ 
 
 h 
 
 O 
 
 J 
 
 WHICH DO YOU PREFER: 
 
 o 
 o 
 sc 
 u 
 
 UJ 
 
 S 
 
 o 
 
 u 
 
 u z 
 
 h- ea 
 
 < 
 
 o 
 
 Second-hand English. 
 
 Swede (to Englishman, at Colorado Springs, noting 
 that the Englishman's accent was unlike that of the 
 other inhabitants) — " How long you bane in dese 
 country?" 
 
 Englishman — " Nine months." 
 
 Swede—" You bane spake de language putty goot al- 
 ready. Ven you bane in dese country two years you vill 
 spake as veil as de people here." 
 
 Englishman (annihilatingly) — "Man alive! I am 
 from the country where this language is manufactured. 
 What you are learning to speak is second-hand English. " 
 
 Fond mother (after Tommy's return from first day at 
 school) — " Now, Tommy, tell mother what pleased you 
 most at school to-day." 
 
 " De teacher broke her glasses, an' we didn't have 
 enny lessons," joyfully responded Tommy. 
 
 Anything Better Than Home. 
 
 t« W AM sick to death of everything," said the society 
 woman. " Let's spend this evening where we've 
 never spent one before." 
 
 " Agreed !" said her husband. "Shall we try home 
 or church?" 
 
 " Church," she replied, sighing. 
 
 If He Could Do It Again. 
 
 (< T\R. THUDLEIGH preached his wife's first hua- 
 *^ band's funeral sermon, didn't he?" 
 " Yes. And I'll bet if he could do it again he'd em- 
 phasize the opinion he e.xpressed about the poor man hav- 
 ing gone to a more delightful place than this world is." 
 
 The Quicker Way. 
 
 ALL things come to him who waits. 
 Perhaps that's true. Well, let 'em. 
 With me, the only things I got 
 I had to go and get 'em. 
 
 Loraine — " Is it true that you are engaged to Fred?" 
 Clarice — " No; I have not given him a definite answer 
 yet. I want to wait and see how he looks after the foot- 
 ball season is over." 
 
 THAT GOTHAM BLUFF. 
 " Haven t seen you (or a long time. Where are you living now ?" 
 " I ye got a house across the river, on the bluff, but I don't like it. 
 
 It's too lonesome over there." 
 
 " Well, better move over here to New York — you'll have lots of 
 
 company. 'Bout three-quarters of the people here live on a bluff. *
 
 ALARMING SYMPTOMS. 
 
 I ITTLE Johnny was very 
 ^^ much interested in the ac- 
 count of the operation by which 
 Eve was made, and, childlike, 
 required the story told over and 
 over again. 
 
 One day, after a strenuous 
 game of tag, he sat down on the 
 doorstep, panting for breath. 
 Soon a serious expression came 
 over his face, and clapping his 
 hand to his side, he ran to his 
 mother as fast as his exhausted 
 condition permitted. 
 
 "Mamma, mamma!" he 
 gasped; "I've such a pain in 
 my side! I'm 'fraid I'm going 
 to have a wife!" 
 
 A. A. Skeels, Cleveland, O. 
 
 
 AN APT RETORT. 
 
 Traveler — "Say, boy, your 
 corn looks kind of yellow." 
 
 Boy — " Yes, sir. That's the kind we planted." 
 
 Traveler — " Looks as though you will only have a 
 half crop." 
 
 Boy — " Don't expect any more. The landlord gets 
 the other half." 
 
 Traveler (after a minute's thought) — " Say, there is 
 not much difference between you and a fool." 
 
 Boy — " No, sir. Only the fence." 
 
 A. G. B. McKay, Silver Grove, Saskatchewan, Can. 
 
 NO PLACE FOR THAT. 
 
 A FLOORWALKER in a department store saw a man 
 walking to him, who said, " My wife bought these 
 
 ACCENTUATING A CONTRAST. 
 
 First young man — " That girl is too tall to wear a short dress." 
 
 Second young man — " It would be all right it her companion dressed the same way." 
 
 " Up to Slabtown, to de 'lection," was the answer 
 shouted back. 
 
 " De 'lection? Wat dey votin' fer now?" asked 
 'Rastus. 
 
 " Dey was payin' high as two dollahs dis mawnin'," 
 called out Uncle Zeb ; " but when Ah left dey was payin' 
 only a dollah an' six bits." 
 
 George S. Bennett, Berkeley, Cal. 
 
 HE FOUND SOMETHING. 
 
 A PRETTY school teacher, noticing one of her little 
 charges idle, said sharply, 
 "John, the devil always finds something for idle 
 
 underclothes here yesterday. Where can I change hands to do. Come up here and let me give you some 
 them?" ^•o'"'^-" 
 
 The floorwalker just said, " You will have to go home 
 
 M. B. Black, Avon, Pa. 
 
 to do that, sir." 
 
 John Farmer, East Stanbridge, Quebec, Can. 
 
 WHAT THEY VOTED FOR. 
 
 ** \A7HAH yuh been?" inquired 'Rastus Peebles of 
 " ' Uncle Zeb Johnsing, as the latter came canter- 
 :ng down the main street on his favorite charger. 
 
 (( ^ 
 
 GOOD ONES. 
 
 HERE are five reasons why I can't get married." 
 " What are they?" 
 A wife and four children." 
 
 F. L. Kristeller, San Antonio, Tex. 
 
 Mot So Resourceful as Most Girls. 
 
 Evelyn — " Some of our proverbs are so ridiculous. 
 For instance, ' Where ignorance is bliss ' " — — 
 
 Ethel — "What's the matter now?" 
 
 Evelyn — " Why, you know, Fred gave me my engage- 
 ment-ring last week, and I simply can't find out how 
 much it cost him." 
 
 The Noose. 
 
 Teacher (expectantly) — " Now, children, how many 
 of you can tell me what a lasso is?" 
 
 Willie (hurriedly raising his hand) — " Please, ma'am, 
 it's a long rope with a running nose at the end." 
 
 A ROUND ROBIN. 
 
 H 
 
 E HAD his wine and women friends — 
 But there this man's life-story ends.
 
 ra 
 
 -^-\
 
 It Was Hot Corn 
 
 By Ed Mott 
 
 A FAT colored lady, with a tin wash-boiler standing 
 in front of her on the sidewalk at a Sixth Avenue 
 corner, had been howling to the heat-embarrassed night 
 and the public generally that she was there in the inter- 
 est of hot corn and a market. A tall man, wearing a 
 white high hat with a black band on it, stopped in his 
 sauntering up the avenue and remarked to the fat colored 
 lady, 
 
 " Have you corn?" 
 
 " I shore has, suh," replied the dealer in superheated 
 maize. 
 
 " Is it hot?" inquired the tall man in the breezy hat 
 with the sorrowful band. 
 
 " Hot as b'ilin' soapsuds, suh!" said the custodian of 
 the wash-boiler and its contents. 
 
 "Do you happen to know," said the apparent cus- 
 tomer, " whether it is the early sweet of old Virginny?" 
 
 " Hones' to de Lawd, boss, I cain't give mah wuhd 
 fo' dat, suh," replied the hot-corn matron ; " but it b'iles 
 de ch'ices' kyine, an' gits pow'ful hot, suh." 
 
 "Ah, yes," said the tall man. "But common, 
 or'dnary North Car-liny corn will do that. Have you 
 evidence that the epicurean raccoon has tested the qual- 
 ity and condition of the corn in the field where this was 
 grown? Your raccoon knows what corn is best for man 
 to eat. Has the 'coon been working in the field o' nights 
 whence these ears you offer were plucked?" 
 
 " Yo shore done gone a heap deepuh, boss, dan I kin 
 go in de dishin' up ob dis hyuh co'n, suh," said the fat 
 
 -^ : 
 
 
 FROM THE CHICKEN'S STANDPOINT. 
 
 " Say, Duckie, I do pity the coming generation." 
 
 ;■ Why, Chick ?•• 
 
 " Because ihat incubator can't scratch for worms 
 like mother used to do." 
 
 colored lady. " But I knows dis hyuh co'n am pow'ful 
 hot." 
 
 " Yes; I quite agree with you," said the critical per- 
 son in the conspicuous hat, taking off the tile, wiping his 
 forehead with his coat sleeve, and stepping closer to the 
 boiler. " But I have a way of knowing whether it would 
 be likely that the epicurean raccoon has approved of the 
 field in which this corn was grown. I will let you in on 
 the secret if you just pass me over a couple of those ears 
 for testing. I think two ears will be enough." 
 
 " Dem eahs, dey's a nickel apiece, suh," explained 
 the colored lady. " Two eahs fo' a dime, suh." 
 
 "Yes, I know," said the tall man. " But, don't you 
 see, if I find that the corn is the sweet, juicy, milky 
 corn of old Virginny, which is the only kind the fastidi- 
 ous 'coon approves of, I will at once be warranted in 
 bringing my friends around to enjoy it, and you will be 
 compelled to have four boilers full here after this to sup- 
 ply the demand. Unless I know this by actual test, of 
 course " • 
 
 " Yo' shore is monst'us kyine, suh," said the fat hot- 
 corn saleslady," putting the cover back on the boiler; 
 "but I reckon I doan' 'low no thievin', ring-tail 'coon 
 ter tell me how ter b'ile co'n ! Huh ! I reckon I doan', 
 suh ! Hot co'-o-o-n ! Hot co'-o-o-n !" 
 
 And the man in the white hat sauntered pensively 
 on his way. 
 
 Cutting Do-wn the Thefts. 
 
 **^^LD Abrams took his son into der bus'ness as a 
 partner so der poy couldn't steal so much ohf 
 der old man's money." 
 
 " Vy can't he steal so much?" 
 
 " Now, vhen he steals a tollar, he steals half ohf it 
 from himself." 
 
 HE TOOK IT AT ITS WORD. 
 
 Uncle Philander (after a two-hour wait) — ' 
 wonder when this blamed thing 's a-goin' to start ?" 
 
 N 
 
 O ONE is going to get into heaven on his pastor's 
 recommendation.
 
 Love and a Coronet. 
 
 News note, —The Due de Blanc is the guest of an American million- 
 aire and his daughter. How long he will remain here depends. There 
 seems to be some hitch in the transfer of title. 
 
 LOVE, Love, dear Love, 
 That cries to him to take 
 The new love to his heart 
 And all the old forsake; 
 Love, Love, dear Love, 
 Demanding that he let 
 This yearning, hopeful heart 
 Put on his coronet; 
 Love, Love, dear Love, 
 That brings two souls to bless 
 Each other through a life 
 Of sweet unselfishness; 
 Love, Love, dear Love, 
 That makes two hearts to beat 
 The measures of two minds 
 In unison .jomplete; 
 Love, Love, dear Love, 
 Which heeds not any price 
 That it may have to pay 
 For noble sacrifice. 
 Gee whiz! 
 
 What a wonder Love is. 
 Ain't it? 
 
 Painters can't paint it, 
 And the poets who think 
 They can write up its beauty 
 Find their pens on the blink. 
 It's the greatest thing in the world, 
 Gadzukes! 
 
 No less to the clodhoppiers 
 Than it is to the dukes. 
 Wow! 
 
 Wreathe lilies round its brow. 
 And at its feet 
 Let the roses meet. 
 Truth of truths and flower of flowers, 
 Love's the power of all the powers. 
 Oh, say, nothing in the wide world could, 
 By any chance, be just as good. 
 Gold is dross to dukes, and they 
 Dodge it when it comes their way. 
 Similarly coronets 
 Are what womankind forgets. 
 Gold is dross, position nought; 
 Love is only to be sought — ■ 
 For if Love is not, ah, then, 
 Men are brutes instead of men. 
 Love, dear Love, 
 On history's page 
 No age compares with marri-age. 
 My scat! What's that? 
 
 W. J. LAMPTON. 
 
 Proper Coats. 
 
 l|*OR an undertaker — Box coat. 
 
 For a judge — Fine coat. 
 For a housemaid — Duster. 
 For an old maid — Mail coat. 
 For a housekeeper — Newmarket. 
 For a sight-seer — Rubber coat. 
 For a college girl — Pony coat. 
 For a glutton — Eton coat. 
 
 A Saving Grace. 
 
 Florence — " I can't understand why Ethel 
 married Mr. Gunson. He is old enough to be 
 her father." 
 
 Lawrence — " Yes; but he is rich enough 
 to be her husband." 
 
 A Bright Suggestion. 
 
 ^HE LAMENTABLE lack of uniformity in the use of 
 * words descriptive of numbers, in the yellow press, 
 justifies a little attention, perhaps. At a street fight, a 
 hotel fire, or a political meeting, there is seldom time to 
 ascertain the exact number of persons present, to be 
 sure, but the following scale might be used in approxi- 
 mation : 
 
 Over 3, but less than 10 a crowd. 
 
 Over 10, but less than 20. . . .scores. 
 Over 20, but less than 50. . . .a myriad. 
 Over 50, but less than 100. . . .thousands. 
 Over 100 a vast concourse. 
 
 This list would undergo a radical change, however, in 
 case the newspaper was reporting a political meeting of 
 its opponents. It might then be abridged : 
 
 100 or more empty house. 
 
 300 or more a few stragglers. 
 
 500 or more a lonely gathering. 
 
 1,000 or more a small audience. 
 
 3,000 or more only the front seats filled. 
 
 FBEEMAN TILDEN. 
 
 Not His Kind. 
 
 Mr. Nodd — " I don't think much of that toy-bank 
 
 you got the children." 
 
 Mrs. Nodd—" What's the matter with it ?" 
 
 Mr. Nodd — " Why, I worked over it all the evening 
 
 and couldn't open it." 
 
 AND THE PUP STOPPED PAI^mNG. 
 
 * Nannette, I am ready to take Rover out, and you haven't pressed his pants I
 
 «Vith Cupid hs Chauffeur: 
 
 HE ROAD lies white beneath 
 the light 
 Of a rising honeymoon, 
 And the rushing sound as the 
 wheels spin 'round 
 Swings into an old love-tune. 
 And every rut on the road of life 
 Is seen through a rosy blur; 
 But there's never a fear that 
 the way's not clear 
 With Cupid as chauffeur. 
 
 And little they care if the 
 neighbors stare 
 As they speed through the 
 land of dreams, 
 While the old love-light as a 
 signal bright 
 Ahead on the highway 
 gleams. 
 And there's never a hill of care 
 so steep 
 But succumbs to the gentle stir 
 That is bound to start in a lover's heart 
 With Cupid as chauffeur. 
 
 So speed they may on their primrose way 
 
 To Arcadian lands afar. 
 May they travel fast till they step at last 
 
 In their wedding touring-car. 
 And grant them this, oh, lad who feels 
 
 A love that is strong for her, 
 May the ride extend to the journey's end. 
 With Cupid as chauffeur. 
 
 REYNALE SMITH PICKEBING. 
 
 Well, anyway, there is always room at the bottom. 
 
 PRETTY SOLEMN. 
 
 " Thanksgiving Day, as it ij now observed, is not the solemn occasion 
 " It isn't, eh ? I wish you had dined with us yesterday. We had 
 country cousin to dinner." 
 
 At the Minstrel Show. 
 
 Mr. Bones — " Muh-muh-muh-mistah Interlocutor. 
 Interlocutor — " You have the floor, Mr. Bones." 
 Mr. Bones — " I's dun guh-guh-guh-guh-got a new one 
 for you tuh-tuh-tuh-tuh-to-hight, suh. It's about a muh- 
 muh-muh-man who st-st-st-st-st-stuttahs." 
 
 Interlocutor — " You ought to tell a story of that kind 
 to perfection, Mr. Bones, seeing you stutter so badly 
 yourself." 
 
 Mr. Bones (indignantly) — " I duh-duh-duh-don't stut- 
 tah, suh!" 
 
 Interlocutor—" You don't?" 
 
 Mr. Bones — " N-n-n-n-no, suh. I only st-st-st-st- 
 stammah." 
 
 Interlocuto') — " Oh, you only stammer, eh? Will you 
 kindly tell us the difference between stuttering and stam- 
 mering?" 
 
 Mr. Bones — " Why, when you st-st-st-st-st-st-st-stut- 
 tah you tuh-tuh-tuh-talk like this ; but when you st-st- 
 8t-st-st-st-st-stammah you only tuh-tuh-tuh-tuh-tuh-talk 
 like that." 
 
 Interlocutor—" Oh, that's it, eh? Well, you may go 
 on with your story about the man who stutters ; but be 
 careful you don't get into the habit yourself." 
 
 Mr. Bones—" Well, suh, h-h-he went into a ruh-ruh- 
 ruh-ruh-restaurant and looked over the buh-buh-buh-buh- 
 bill-of-fare and saw st-st-st-st-st-st-st-strawberry short- 
 cake on it." 
 
 Interlocutor — "Yes, Mr. Bones. A man who stut- 
 tered went into a restaurant and looked over the bill-of- 
 fare and saw strawberry shortcake on it. Well, did he 
 
 get some?" 
 
 Mr. Bones — " N-n-n-n- 
 no, suh. Buh-buh-buh- 
 buh-by the time the puh- 
 puh-puh-puh-poor fellow 
 guh-guh-guh-g u h - g a v e 
 his ordah st-st-st-st-st-st- 
 st-st-strawberries were 
 out of suh-suh-suh-sea- 
 son." 
 
 Interlocutor — " Very 
 good, Mr. Bones — very 
 good, sir. And now, Mr. 
 Leader, if you'll give us 
 some more of your good 
 music Mr. Johnson will 
 sing us that pathetic lit- 
 tle ballad entitled, ' What 
 is home without a ra- 
 
 ZOr ; A. B. LEWIS. 
 
 A Deep Cutter. 
 
 Rollins — "I went out 
 in a revenue-cutter last 
 night." 
 
 Collins — "I thought 
 you went sleigh-riding?" 
 
 Rollins— "^ el\, it 
 made quite a cut in my 
 revenue." 
 
 it used to be.' 
 
 the minister, two maiden aunts, and a
 
 Too Partisan To Holler. 
 
 I^OLONEL W. P. THORNE, former Lieutenant-Gov- Carroll with rising voice 
 ^^ ernor of Kentucky, is one of the best campaigners 
 
 and story-tellers to be found in Kentucky. One of the 
 best stories he told runs as follows : 
 
 " It was just after W. 0. Bradley was elected Gov- 
 ernor of Kentucky, in 1905, and the Republicans in my 
 county were holding a big ratification meeting. Brass 
 bands, all kinds of floats and banners, and hundreds of 
 men and women and boys had been parading the streets. 
 A young girl claimed that, while standing on her front 
 porch, which was almost covered by vines and foliage of 
 different kinds, she was repeatedly hugged and kissed by 
 a young man whom she hardly knew. A warrant was 
 
 sworn out for her 
 
 assailant. He was 
 arrested, and it was 
 my duty as common- 
 wealth's attorney to 
 prosecute him. John 
 Carroll, who is at 
 present a judge of 
 the Kentucky Court 
 of Appe al s , had 
 been employed to 
 defend him. I soon 
 finished my examina- 
 tion of the witness, 
 and turned her over 
 to Carroll for cross- 
 examination. 
 
 '"What night 
 was this?' thundered 
 Carroll. 
 
 " 'Thursday 
 night,' answered the 
 witness. 
 
 "'Thursday 
 night, you say? 
 What time of 
 night?' 
 
 " ' About eight 
 o'clock.' 
 
 " ' That was about 
 the time the pa- 
 rade was passing our 
 house.' 
 
 " ' Yes, sir; the 
 parade was just pass- 
 ing my house.' 
 
 " ' Streets full of 
 people?' 
 
 " ' Yes, sir; the 
 streets were full of 
 people. ' 
 
 " ' Did you ever 
 cry out or scream?' 
 
 " ' No, sir; I did 
 not.' 
 
 " ' Will you please 
 tell this jury.' asked 
 
 with the streets thronged 
 with people and this man hugging and kissing you 
 against your will, as you claim, why you never uttered a 
 single cry for help or assistance?' 
 
 " ' Yes, sir. I will tell the jury, and everybody else, 
 that you'll never ketch me hoUerin' at no Republican 
 getherin' !' " 
 
 A Way They Have. 
 
 THE pretzels I consume induce such woes, 
 The crullers havoc play. 
 They have no bad intentions, I suppose, 
 But they're just bent that way. 
 
 The man who does all for gain does nothing for good. 
 
 .A.-^TTi. CM 
 
 A HARD JOB. 
 She — " 1 wish you would work and earn the money for the flowers you send me. 
 He — "If you knew how hard it is to work the governor you would think 1 earned em.
 
 « 
 
 o 
 
 More Nature Fakes. 
 
 H, SIRE! I heard a rooster crow — • 
 
 " I'm very sure that was a lie — 
 The story can't be true." 
 
 " Oh, sire ! I heard a pussy-cat — ■ 
 The creature said ' Meow.' " 
 
 " You do not know the heart of things — 
 I know that isn't how." 
 
 " Oh, sire ! I heard a brindle cow — 
 The critter hollered ' Moo.' " 
 
 " That cannot be — impossible! 
 You are a liar, too." 
 
 " Oh, sire! I heard a yellow dog 
 
 Remarking ' Bow-wow-wow.' " 
 
 " I've slain my thousands, and you lie — 
 I tell you so right now." 
 
 MC LANDBURGH WILSON. 
 
 A Busy Family. 
 
 t( OAY, BUB," said the book-agent, as he drew up at 
 
 *^ the gate of a house in a country town on which 
 was swinging a barefooted boy, " is your pa around?" 
 
 " Nope. Pa's out breakin' in a colt," was the reply. 
 
 " Could I see your ma?" 
 
 " Nope. Ma's jest took a walk to break in a new 
 pair of shoes." 
 
 " Is your big sister at home?" 
 
 " Nope. Pete Lawson fell over town an' busted his 
 leg, an' she's gone over to break the news to his ma." 
 
 " Maybe I could see an- 
 other one of your sisters?" 
 
 LOW LIFE HIGH UP. 
 IVfiiry Warblir — "I jusl asked the lady up in ihe house 
 for a hand-out, and she gave me a worm that wasn't fit to eat." 
 
 " Nope. The other's gone to town to break a ten- 
 dollar bill." 
 
 " Well, I guess I'll have to talk to your big brother, 
 then. Will you call him, please?" 
 
 " Can't. He's breakin' stone up at the county jail." 
 
 " Your folks seem to be pretty well occupied," smiled 
 the book agent. " Maybe I could interest you in a big 
 book bargain?" 
 
 "Not me, mister," replied the boy. "That feller 
 comin' over the hill called me squint-eyed yesterday, an' 
 I'll soon be so busy breakin' his head that I won't have 
 no time to talk to you." 
 
 Man is in his cups to-day and in the jug to-morrow. 
 
 LITTLE iVIOTHERS. 
 
 Elsie — *' What's your dolly's name?" 
 Marjorie — " Ethel Watts Thompson. " 
 Elsie — " Is the middle name on the I 
 or mother's side ?" 
 
 ither's 
 
 NOT HER LAY. 
 ' I wonder if this book will tell me how to hatch out this wonderful egg J"
 
 The Limit 
 
 By W. J, Lampton 
 
 THE GIRL was fixed in her determination and her 
 eyes were hard and cold. The man stood before 
 her, broken like a reed in the wind. He may have 
 been broken in other respects, for he had been with her 
 to the races that afternoon, but it has no bearing on this 
 chronicle. 
 
 " So, Miss Tyndall," he was saying, " you persist in 
 breaking our engagement?" 
 
 " I do," she nodded with adamantine firmness. 
 
 " And you will not marry me?" 
 
 " Never." 
 
 " No matter what I do?" 
 
 " What matters it to me?" 
 
 " Not if I plunge into the flowing bowl?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Not if I gamble away my patrimony?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Not if I waste my substance in riotous living?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Not if I — if I " — he hesitated — " not if I take my 
 own life?" 
 
 " No, no," she insisted. 
 
 He saw how futile were all his pleadings. His eyes 
 stiffened and his face grew hard. Her cruelty was re- 
 acting upon him. 
 
 " Very well," he said, turning away; " it is now up 
 to me to marry Kitty Gray." 
 
 " What!" she exclaimed, taking a step forward. 
 
 " I said it was up to me to marry Kitty Gray." 
 
 " You wouldn't marry that girl, would you?" 
 
 " Why not? She's as good as anybody, isn't she?' 
 
 " No, she isn't." 
 
 " I guess yes, she is." 
 
 " But I know better. Why, she is " 
 
 "I beg your pardon, Miss Tyndall," he interrupted 
 almost fiercely; " but I cannot permit any one to traduce 
 Miss Gray in my presence." 
 
 " I'm not traducing her. I'm only telling the truth. 
 
 She is red-headed and " 
 
 " I like red hair," he broke in tenderly. 
 
 " Well, you won't like it on Kitty Gray. She has a 
 
 temper that " 
 
 " I beg your pardon." 
 
 " You needn't to. I'm going to say what I want to 
 about that girl." 
 
 " And I won't listen to it. " 
 
 " Ah ! is Mr. Barton so much in love with Miss Gray?" 
 "That is my affair." 
 
 " How many other affairs have you, pray?" , 
 
 " That is my affair, also." 
 
 " And you ask me to marry you?" she almost sobbed. 
 " Yes, I do; and have and will," he almost howled in 
 joyous hope. 
 
 " Have you asked Kitty Gray, too?" 
 
 "Not yet." 
 " Then you sha'n't if I 
 can help it. I will make 
 any sacrifice to thwart 
 that girl." 
 
 " Dear Charlotte!" 
 "Oh, Harry!" 
 (Seven minutes later.) 
 "Do you really care 
 for Kitty Gray, Harry?" 
 "Of course not; she 
 ran away yesterday and 
 married Tom Perkins." 
 
 "Tom Perkins? My 
 old sweetheart ! Poor 
 Tom!" 
 
 Not Intentional. 
 
 Horace — "Reggy went 
 on a bear-hunt and met 
 with an accident." 
 
 Howard — " Goodness ! 
 What was it?" 
 
 Horace — "He shot 
 one." 
 
 HE IV11GHT CATCH IT. 
 Young turkey — " What is Thanksgiving, pa ?" 
 Old turkey — " It's a kind of epidemic, my son." 
 
 qpHERE'S nothing 
 * most girls '^an ap- 
 pear so perfectly natural 
 at as being artificial.
 
 ■S 5 
 S - 
 
 Z -£ 
 
 uj o 
 
 O o 
 
 ^- "^ 
 
 ■ - ij .5 
 g-o o 
 
 ^ D a 
 
 i I § 
 
 -S «;f= 
 
 O ^ O
 
 J 
 
 on 
 
 esy's 
 
 A Convivia 
 
 NarroNA/ pRcape 
 
 / Tale of Mixed Christmas Presents 
 
 By Eld IVlott 
 
 JIBSON was such a convivial chap that all seasons 
 were jolly ones to him — at least, he was jolly in 
 all seasons; so when he came around to the club 
 the day after a memorable Christmas, and with a 
 seriousness that was an unprecedented result of his 
 social contact with men and things declared that the 
 Christmas time had " poo' near shoved him off the dock," 
 the fellows were taken by surprise. 
 
 " Why, Jib !" they said. " What in the world " 
 
 "Christmas presents!" replied Jibson, dropping into 
 a chair and closing one eye as if to get a better focus on 
 things. "Say! Ask Jonesy! Ask 'Tilda! Ask ma! 
 Ask the new preacher! Say! 'Fadd'n' been for the 
 new preacher, I'd swep' the cobwebs off the wall with 
 Jonesy and mopped the floor with him! Me and Jonesy 
 had a scrap! Yess'r! Come poo' near wiping him off 
 the face the earth, b'gee!" 
 
 That anything should have come between two old and 
 almost inseparable boon companions like Jibson and 
 Jonesy was incredible, and the expressions of surprise 
 and regret were unanimous in the club. 
 
 " But tell us how about it, Jib," they said. 
 
 " Ch'life !" said Jibson. " Jonesy had a nar' 'scape, 
 dosh'sh' forget it! Came poo' near wiping him off the 
 face the earth ! But it's all right now. Ch'life it is, 
 and there's big load off of my mind. I'm all right, and 
 Jonesy's all right, and 'Tilda's all right, and ma's all 
 right, and the new preacher's all right. But 'fadd'n' 
 been for the new preach — say, fell's, they can't foo'th 
 me, jussessame ! They want to 
 look out for the locomo've when 
 the bell rings if they foo'th me, 
 or there'll be a soun'v revelry b' 
 night that'll be worse'n — worse'n 
 — worse'n a rolling earthquake, 
 b'gee! Say! Jonesy had a nar' 
 'scape, I want to tell you! So'd 
 the floor. So'd the cobwebs on 
 the wall. 'Fadd'n' been for the 
 new preacher, I'd mixed Jonesy 
 up with 'em so's they'd had to 
 be inner-inn er-innerduced to 
 their friends to know which 's 
 which and who's who, dosh'sh' 
 forget it!" 
 
 The fellows at the club insist- 
 ed on knowing what it had all 
 been about and how it had come. 
 
 "Cer'ly," said Jibson. 
 "Christmas presents, that's 
 how. Ma lives in Jersey. 'Til- 
 da's ma. Uzzstamme? Tilda's 
 ma. When 'Tilda's ma ain't 
 four house with me and 'Tilda, 
 
 AN INFERENCE. 
 
 Sparroiv — " I wonder if Santa Glaus ' 
 we hung those up ?*' 
 
 'Tilda's ma lives in Jersey. 'Tilda's ma's to our house 
 poo' near all the time, bussallright. Sh' lives in Jersey. 
 Ma's all right. Sh's all right. So's new preacher. So's 
 'Til — say, 'fadd'n' been for the new preach — bussall- 
 right. Nar' 'scape, jussessame! 'Tilda says to me, 
 ' Dosh'sh' want to go spend Christmas with ma, Jibby, 
 dear?' Ch'life I did, for I was poo' near sure ma was 
 going to spend Christmas with me and 'Tilda. ' Cer'ly!' 
 I says; and 'Tilda said all right, we'd go spend Christ- 
 mas with ma. ' But, say !' I says, ' ma mussav' a Christ- 
 mas present. Got to get ma a Christmas present,' I 
 says; and 'Tilda said, ' Oh, cer'ly, ma mussav' a Christ- 
 mas present.' ' W'ash'll it be?' I says. 'Oh!' 'Tilda 
 says, 'red silk ni-ni-nightcap! Ma mussav' a red silk 
 nightcap! Just w'ash sh' wants. Red silk ni-ni-night- 
 cap'll be too sweet for anything!' 'Tilda says. And 
 I said all right, ma sh'll'av' it, b'gee! 
 
 "Then poo' soon 'Tilda says, 'Oh, my! The new 
 preacher mussav' a Christmas present, too!' And I 
 said why, cer'ly; got to make the new preacher a 
 Christmas present, of course. ' W'ash'll it be?' I says. 
 ' Slippers,' 'Tilda says. ' Preachers always get slippers 
 for Christmas,' 'Tilda says. 'So they do,' I says. 
 'Gee!' I says; 'if preachers didn't get slippers for 
 Christmas, they'd ^;hink the church militant had run on 
 a snag!' I says. 'Jibby!' 'Tilda says. 'Mercy me! 
 Dosh'sh' let ma hear you talk that way! Ma'll be 
 shocked!' ' Nev' mind ma!' I says. 'Ma's all right! 
 Goin' to spend Christmas with ma! Slippers! Slippers 
 all right! New preacher's all 
 right! W'assizz size?' I says. 
 ' Eights and a half,' 'Tilda says. 
 ' Preachers always wear eights 
 and a half,' 'Tilda says. 
 
 "Ch'life! Bought ma a red 
 silk nightcap and new preacher a 
 pair of slippers — nice green slip- 
 pers, eights and a half, and a 
 yellow dog on the instep, with 
 blue ears and a pink tail. Beau'- 
 ful, b'gee! Beau'ful! 'Jonesy!' 
 
 I says. ' Got to get a present for 
 Jonesy ! W'ash'll it be?' I says. 
 'Jonesy' — say, fell's! Jonesy 
 had nar' 'scape, dosh'sh' forget 
 it! 'Fadd'n' been for the new 
 preacher 'd swep' the cobwebs — 
 say, fell's! Nar' 'scape, b'gee!" 
 
 Young Jibson paused as if 
 pondering over the prevented ca- 
 tastrophe, and the fellows at the 
 club jogged his memory. 
 
 " Did you get Jonesy a pres- 
 ent. Jib?" they asked. 
 
 .■ill think
 
 NOTHING DOING. 
 ** What did your wife give you for Cliristmas ? 
 " Nolliing. She said she didn't have enough tr; 
 
 stamps. 
 
 "Ch'life!" said he, coming back to the situation. 
 "• W'ash'll it be?' I says. ' Boll'l the old st-st-stuff !' 
 I says. ' Nothing'!! piease Jonesy like a boll'l the old 
 stuff!' I says. ' Bessizz ain't any too good for Jonesy!' 
 I says. 'Ch'life!' 
 
 " Went round to Duffy's and got a boll'l the old st-st- 
 stuff, bessizz, and Duffy semmup. Christmas Eve, and 
 Duffy semmup. I semmup. Christmas Eve, and I 
 semmup. Christmas Eve, and everybody semmup. 
 Ch'life! Said, ' Merr' Christmas!' more'n a hundred 
 times, an' poo' soon I says, ' Gee! Poo' near forgot my 
 Christmas presents ! Got to send my Christmas presents ! 
 Got to'go home, too, or'U be late for dinner, and 'Tilda'!! 
 be dish'pointed !' I says. 
 
 " ' Go gish'sh' dinner,' Duffy says. ' Dosh'sh' dish'- 
 poin' sh'wife!' Duffy says. 'I'll send your Christmas 
 presents,' he says. 'Gwan! Skiddoo!' he says. 
 
 " ' Bully for you, old man!' I says; and I gave Duffy 
 ma's address, and the new preacher's address, and 
 Jonesy 's address. ' Dosh'sh' forget 'em, old man !' I says. 
 
 "'Gwan!' Duffy says. ' W'ash'sh' take me for? Go 
 gish'sh' dinner! Dosh'sh' dish'poin' sh'wife! Merr' 
 Christmas! Good-by ! Skiddoo!' Duffy says. 
 
 "'Right!' I says. 'Merr' Christmas! Good-by!' 
 and I didn't dish'poin' 'Tilda. Say, fell's!" said young 
 Jibson, after a pondering pause; "yes'day's Christmas, 
 wasn't it?" 
 
 They told him yes, yesterday was Christmas. 
 
 "All right!" said Jibson. " Yes'day morning me 
 
 and 'Tilda went to ma's. Ma lives in Jersey. 
 'Tilda's ma. Uzztamme? 'Tilda's ma. Rang 
 ma's bell, and 'Tilda says, ' Won't dear ma be 
 pleased?' ' Ch'life !' I says. Ma came to the door. 
 ' Merr' Christmas, ma!' I says; and ' Merr' Christ- 
 mas, ma!' 'Tilda says. But, say! Ma's head was 
 up in the air like the Stash' o' Liberty, b'gee! 
 Poo' soon ma looked down at me, and I looked out 
 in the cold world for an ice wagon to climb on and 
 get warm! 
 
 " ' 'Tilda,' ma says, 'does ziss husband of yours 
 take this house for a dime mu-mu- museyum? 
 Does he take me for Big-foot Liz, the freak lady 
 from Ohio, with feet a yard and a half long? 
 'Tilda,' says ma, ' j'come to Jersey to see your 
 poor old ma insulted?' says ma. 
 
 " 'Tilda looked at me, and 1 looked at 'Tilda, 
 and 'Tilda says, 
 
 "'Jibson!' 'Tilda says, raspy, jess like that. 
 ' Jibson, wassziss mean?' 
 
 "'Give it up!' I says. 'But ma don't seem 
 pleased!' I says. 
 
 "Ma says, 'Eights and a half! And green! 
 And yellow and blue and pink dog on 'em ! ' Stoo- 
 much!' ma says, and banged a big pair of slippers 
 together, most in my eyes. 
 
 "'Gee!' I says. 'The new preacher's Christ- 
 mas present!' I says. ' New preacher's Christmas 
 present got stuck in ma's parcel !' I says. ' Where's 
 ma's red silk ni-ni-nightcap?' I says. 
 
 " Ma burs'^ tears, and 'Tilda burs'sin tears, 
 and ma says,' ' Oh, Jibby, dear, forgive me! 
 Merr' Christmas!' 
 
 " ' 'Sallright, ' I says; 'but where's ma's red silk 
 nightcap? 'Tilda!' I says, 'gee! the new preacher's 
 got ma's red silk ni-ni-nightcap! Here's a sish'wation!' 
 I says. ' Made the new preacher a Christmas present of 
 a red silk nightcap! Now, 'Tilda,' I says, ' now's the 
 time for me to go and jump off the dock !' 
 
 "But ma says, ''Sallright, Jibby, dear! Go back 
 to-morr' and change the green slippers for the red silk 
 ni-ni-nightcap, and 'polzhize to the new preacher. Uz- 
 ztamme?' ma says. 
 
 "'Ch'life!' 1 says; and we had Merr' Christmas all 
 over again. Came over to-day to change the green slip- 
 pers for ma's red silk nightcap. Met Jonesy, and he 
 says to me, 'Say, young feller! You can't be funny 
 with me. See?' 
 
 "' Young feller!' I says. 'Gee! Call me young fel- 
 ler! W'as'ma'r of you?' I says; and I came poo' near 
 most jumping on Jonesy. 'Explain yourself,' I says, 
 ' or patience'!! cease to be a virtue, b'gee! and blood'll 
 flow!' I says. 
 
 " ' Let it flow !' says Jonesy. ' 'Twon't be my blood ! 
 Say!' he says. ' I don't take any more nightcaps 'n you 
 do!' he says. 
 
 "'W'ash'sh' mean?' I says. 'W'ash'sh' mean by 
 nightcaps?' I says; and, say! I poo' near most took 
 Jonesy by the neck. ' Don't tamper with me any more, 
 Mr. Jones!' I says ' Explain yourself, for Rome's get- 
 ting ready to howl, b'gee!' I says.
 
 NON-SUITED. 
 Johnny — *' Hello, Jimmy ! What's the matter with you ?'* 
 Jimmy — " Didn't you hear about it ? Our house burned doWD 
 last night and all I've got to wear is my sister's suit." 
 
 " ' Don't care for Rome !' Jonesy says. ' Don't care 
 for howl ! Can lick you in two minutes !' he says. 
 
 " ' W'ash'sh' mean by nightcaps?' I says. I wasn't 
 going to let Jonesy bluff me, dosh'sh' forget it! 
 
 "'Nightcaps! 'Swat I mean !' says Jonesy. 'You 
 sent me a red silk nightcap for Christmas ! Red silk 
 ni-ni-nightcap! Say! J'take me for an old granny?' 
 Jonesy says. 
 
 " ' Oh !' I says. ' I can't stand any more ! Can't any 
 man call ma an old granny, b'gee! unless he wants to 
 be wiped off the face the earth! Red silk nightcap's 
 ma's! Can't any man call ma an old granny !' I says. 
 
 " Say ! I poo' near most had Jonesy by the neck to 
 sweep the cobwebs off the wall and wipe up the floor 
 with him, when I happened to think, and Jonesy's life 
 was saved. Nar' 'scape, b'gee! 'Fadd'n' been for new 
 preacher — 'My good gracious!' I says. 'The new 
 preacher ain' got ma's red silk ni-ni-nightcap! New 
 preacher's got Jonesy's boll'l the old st-st-stuff! 
 Jonesy!' I says, 'come! Come 'long'z me and see me 
 jump off the dock !' I says. 
 
 " Say ! Was rushing to find a dock, and poo' soon a 
 man tapped me on the shoulder. Looked up. New 
 preacher, b'gee! 
 
 "'Oh!' I says. 'New preacher, and he's going to 
 kill me! Poor 'Tilda and ma!' I says. 
 
 " ' Mis'r Jibson,' the new preacher says, ' glad to see 
 you! Say! The boll'l was great! Bessizz, and I know 
 it!' he says. ' Thanks vemmuch!' he says. ' But, say!' 
 he says, 'how j'know I liked a li'l for my stom-stom- 
 stomach's sake ! Mis'r Jibson, thanks vemmuch ! Happy 
 New Year!' he says; and before I could say, ' Samechoo 
 and many of 'em!' he was gone. 
 
 4 
 
 " Say! If I hadn't been poo' near Duffy's I'd fainted 
 dead away! Just came from Duffy's now, getting load 
 off my mind. And say! 'Fadd'n' been for the new 
 preacher — bussallright! Going back to ma's now to 
 'grash'late ma and 'Tilda on the new preacher, b'gee! 
 But didn't Jonesy have a nar' 'scape? Ch'life!" 
 
 Reconstruction. 
 
 IN THE Southland lived a maiden 
 Fair to see. 
 Soul with love of living laden, 
 Heart with love of loving laden; 
 None deceiving. 
 All believing, 
 She was what a maid should be. 
 
 Came there to her swains a-sighing — 
 
 Many swains; 
 Some with love and true hearts dying, 
 Some with gold who would be buying; 
 
 Love and money, 
 
 Bees and honey, 
 She had thoughts of precious gains. 
 
 One among them was a Yankee — 
 
 Think of that! 
 Owner of a mill and bank, he 
 Had some looks as well, though lanky; 
 
 And he thought her 
 
 Heaven's own daughter. 
 Which is worth the looking at. 
 
 And it came to pass thereafter 
 
 All the rest 
 Teased her mightily and chaffed her; 
 Said he was a Northern grafter, 
 
 And they froze him. 
 
 But she chose him. 
 For she loved that Yankee best. 
 
 WILLIAM J. LAMPTON. 
 
 Something Wrong. 
 
 'W^HE little girl had gotten up very 
 * early in the morning for the first 
 time. 
 
 "Oh, mamma!" she ex- 
 claimed, returning from the 
 window, " the sun 's comin' 
 out all right, but God 's for- 
 gotten to turn off the 
 moon." 
 
 Jest and Earnest. 
 
 Myf ANY a true word is 
 *'* spoken in jest, but 
 the majority of 
 lies are utter- 
 ed in dead 
 earnest. 
 
 In 1920. 
 
 H%tb by — 
 " This pie, my 
 love, is just the 
 kind that moth- 
 er used to buy 
 at her b a k - 
 ery." 
 
 CONDITIONAL. 
 
 " I can only give you a ticket, Mr. Goose, if 
 you'll promise not to hiss when the show is on."
 
 A Terrible Oversight. 
 
 T WAS close to midnight 
 when the Smiths finished 
 trimming the tree on 
 Christmas Eve, and as they 
 sat down to survey the 
 work Smith yawned and 
 remarked, 
 
 " Well, I guess that 
 winds up the biggest job I 
 ever tackled, and any one 
 who mentions Christmas 
 tree to me again is taking 
 big chances. Have we at- 
 tended to everything, do 
 you think?" 
 
 "Yes; I think we have, 
 Charles," replied his wife. 
 " I checked off the list of 
 gifts this afternoon, and it 
 was all right." 
 
 " You surely got the 
 hired girl's present?" 
 
 " You may be sure of that." 
 
 "Then any other errors don't count, and we can go 
 to bed and rest easy. I think I could sleep a week." 
 
 The Smiths retired, and Smith had just begun to 
 dream that he was engaged in trimming a tree twenty 
 feet high, when Mrs. Smith awoke him and excitedly 
 said, 
 
 " You've got to get up instantly, Charles!" 
 " Not me!" he replied. 
 " But you've simply got to!" 
 " Not unless the house is afire." 
 
 " It's worse than that, Charles. Oh, how could we 
 have been so thoughtless — how could we?" 
 
 " Please keep quiet and let me go to sleep!" growled 
 Smith. " If you think I'm going to get up on some fool 
 errand, you're mistaken. The cat's in, and everything 
 is all right." 
 
 " But, Charles," she went on, " you don't understand. 
 We've forgotten to buy a Christmas present for the 
 janitor. For the janitor — do you understand?" 
 
 Smith lay quiet for a moment or two. Then, with a 
 cry of dismay, he leaped out of bed and hurriedly dressed 
 and dashed out to see if there wasn't yet time to correct 
 the terrible oversight. 
 
 An Original Hit. 
 
 W^ATHAT we want is something really original," 
 
 ' ' said the editor, wearily leaning back in his 
 chair. 
 
 " I think I have it here," answered Scratchum. 
 
 " What's the nature of it?" 
 
 " Dialect." 
 
 "Pshaw!" 
 
 " It isn't the regular kind of dialect. Let me read a 
 bit of it." 
 
 " Well, g3 ahead, but cut it short." 
 
 Scratchum began. 
 
 " ' Through the krantz and over the nek the Uitlander 
 came. Along the poort and past the kopje, until he 
 reached the spruit ' " 
 
 " That's good for a beginning," smiled the chief. 
 
 " ' Crossing the sluit, ' " continued Scratchum, " ' he 
 ran across the veldt, and then, worn out with fatigue, he 
 stopped. He looked back to see if the zarps were on his 
 tracks, and then sank down exhausted. Presently he 
 arose, and, crawling to the fontein in the kloof, he ate a 
 little biltong and some mealies, which he washed down 
 with a little dop he had in his flask. "At the next 
 kraal," said he, " I'll " ' " 
 
 " That'll do, " interrupted the deus ex-machina. "I 
 don't know what it's all about, but work in the Boer dia- 
 lect as much as you can, and then, in the middle of the 
 story, get your man to China in some way, and if with 
 the help of a sprinkling of Wan-Shan-Shan, Chi-Li, Nan- 
 Yuen, and a brigade of washee-washee names, such as 
 Wo-Yung, Chin-Lee, Gee-Wo, etc., we don't run out of 
 hyphens, we'll be sure to catch the public taste. Good 
 idea, Scratchum. Follow it up with something Russian. ' ' 
 
 And the editor sank back in his chair again, this time 
 delightedly, for he had captured a " hit." 
 
 Might as Well Be Opened with Them. 
 
 (( ¥ AM sorry, my dear sir; but I neglected to bring 
 my surgical instruments with me." 
 "That will be all right, doctor. The plumber who 
 has been working in the cellar has left his tools here." 
 
 Willing To Stand a Good Deal. 
 
 Doris — " But I never told you that I have a brother- 
 in-law who is a senator." 
 
 Harry — "No matter, darling. Even that fact can- 
 not separate us." 
 
 WHEN THE ROOSEVELT IDEA TRIUMPHS.
 
 THE TRIUMPH OF CLASSIC OVER COMMON MUSIC. 
 Mr. T.'Cai (as aistu-bed musician appears on scene)—" Well, wouldn't that jolt a saint — a Jack-in-lhe box for ours!" 
 
 To the 
 
 «i Y^R HONOR, I'll tell yer jest how 'twas, "said the 
 man with the saffron eye as he stood before the 
 police judge. 
 
 " Me an' Jake wus both in love wid little Mame. 
 Well, de time came when she had ter pick between de 
 two uv us. Mame, she cast her lamps over him an' me, 
 like a feller'd size up a couple uv easy marks, an' she 
 sez, ' To de victor belongs de goils,' an' told us ter fight 
 it out, an' she'd marry de winner. 
 
 " I met Jake in a back yard on Christopher Street, 
 an' we went to it. I won't describe de offensive details 
 to yer honor, but I will say dat in about three an' two- 
 thirds minutes, after a spirited encounter, 1 landed a left 
 to his solar, an' he wuz down an' out. I left him lyin' 
 
 Victor — • 
 
 dere on de grouna an' walked over ter Barney's ter soak 
 up a couple uv beers in commemyration uvde event; den 
 I cruised around ter Mame's ter claim my skirt. 
 
 " Now, mebbe yer honor can't guess what [happened 
 while I wuz t'rowin' dem beers inter me. Well, yer 
 honor, dat man Jake recovered from his knockout, an' 
 when I got ter Mame's room all dat wuz left wuz a note 
 on de table. ' Art,' she sez, ' I have beat it wid Jake. 
 I hate ter pull out uv de game wid de jack-pot, but when 
 I said I'd marry de best man I thought it would be Jake.' " 
 
 The prisoner looked full into the face of the judge. 
 " Do yer blame me fer gittin' drunk, yer honor?" 
 
 " Discharged," replied the eminent person evasively 
 as he slammed the docket back on the clerk's desk. 
 
 DWIGHT SPENCER ANDERSON.
 
 Big' Bill's Santa Claus Joke 
 
 By Wilbur D. Nesbit 
 
 BIG BILL was the acknowledged humorist of the 
 alley gang. He had graduated from the school 
 of wit and fun, which includes in its curriculum 
 such side-splitting stunts as sprinkling broken 
 glass and tacks in the way of automobiles, and attaching 
 empty cans to the tails of unsuspecting dogs, and throw- 
 ing icy snowballs at the heads of strangers who came 
 a-slumming. 
 
 Big Bill was now artistically above such things. He 
 would no more be caught upsetting a fruit-stand or drop- 
 ping a dead rat into the sugar barrel in the little grocery 
 at the end of the alley than Mark Twain would consent 
 to "make faces" for the amusement of babies. Big 
 Bill now turned to the higher forms of humor — to the 
 sort that meant something. It was he who had con- 
 ceived and executed the ridiculous stunt of pouring tar 
 on the steps of old man Jones's home last fall, one Sun- 
 day morning. And when old man Jones came out in his 
 new suit to go to church and slid all the way down the 
 steps and ruined his clothes, Big Bill's face came as 
 near wearing a smile as it ever did — until the night be- 
 fore Christmas, when he played his best joke. 
 
 Away down the alley, in a little ramshackle frame 
 house that defied every rule of the building and health 
 departments, lives the Spriggins family. Spriggins 
 himself is at home only when he is out of the workhouse 
 — but he hasn't been in since Christmas. Mrs. Sprig- 
 gins is not only an invalid, but she takes in washing to 
 keep the family, and when Spriggins didn't take her 
 money from her there were occasions when a good 
 square meal came on the table. There are three Sprig- 
 gins children — all under nine years of age. Bennie is 
 the oldest, Freddie is seven, and Roselle is five. 
 
 Christmas Eve Big Bill, and Shorty McTodd, and 
 Freckles King, and Limpy Kelly, and Jiggs Long were 
 in the rear room of Jenowski's saloon, with " bowls of 
 
 ' Then the procession filed down the alley to the rickety steps leading up to the Spriggins domicile.' 
 
 suds " before them. They wanted to do somethi \g 
 funny, but, as Jiggs said, they had done everythir^ 
 funny except kill some one, and the cops wouldn't stan ' 
 for that. Big Bill had been sitting in silence for hal • 
 an hour, and now he spoke. 
 
 " Say," he muttered, " isn't dere a Sandy Claus aC^ 
 to be pulled off at dat choych up on de nex' corner?" 
 
 " Sure!" gleefully exclaimed Shorty. " Let's go up 
 dere an' put it on de blink." 
 
 " Naw," declared Big Bill. " Let dem have de show. 
 Den let's go cop out de togs — an' I'll play Sandy Claus 
 here in de alley." 
 
 It took a full minute for the complete significance of 
 this plan to sink into the understandings of the others, 
 then they agreed it was the best ever. 
 
 " I hear dem Spriggins kids talkin' to-day to deir 
 mudder," said Big Bill. " Dey was handin' it out dat 
 dis was de night Sandy was due to blow in wid de goods. 
 Huh! Say, wot's de matter wid me bein' Sandy, an' 
 breakin' in dere an' loadin' dem up wid presents?" 
 
 " Wot?" asked Freckles King disgustedly. " Wot in 
 'ell would you do for presents?" 
 
 " Gadder up all de old truck around — empty bottles 
 an' cans an' — an' t'ings," Bill outlined lamely. 
 
 "Great! Take dem in an' spread 'em all over de 
 bed. Poke a few empties in de stockin's, an' all dat 
 sort o' t'ing!" Limpy cried. 
 
 " I'll be watchin' at dat choych," Big Bill planned, 
 " an' when de Sandy Claus guy gets t'roo wid his stunt 
 I'll watch where he shucks his togs, an' den I'll make a 
 getaway wid dem. De rest is easy." 
 
 Along about ten o'clock Big Bill was in the shadowy 
 hall off the Sunday-school room of " de choych," and 
 when the portly person who had enacted Santa Claus 
 came forth, followed by shrieks of delight. Bill tiptoed 
 softly after him to a rear room, waited until he emerged 
 
 in his every-day clothing, 
 then as silently slipped 
 into the rear room, gath- 
 ered up the wig, whiskers 
 and costume, and let him- 
 self out of a window. 
 
 Jiggs, Shorty, Freck- 
 les and Limpy helped 
 him get into the disguise, 
 and filled his pack with a 
 C;g^ choice collection of rocks, 
 half-bricks, empty bot- 
 tles, old cans, a discarded 
 corset, an ash-sifter, an 
 old egg-beater, and other 
 material they had gar- 
 nered in the garbage bar- 
 rels of the neighborhood. 
 Then the procession filed 
 down the alley to the rick- 
 ety steps leading up to the
 
 " Bill tote this off and held it where the candle-light would 
 strike it." 
 
 Spriggins domicile. They crept cautiously up the creaky 
 steps, subduing their chuckles aa best they might. At 
 the door Big Bill shook a warning fist at them, and they 
 stopped, while he pushed the door slowly open and went 
 catlike into the house. 
 
 A guttering candle stuck in an empty bottle on what 
 once had been a mantel-shelf furnished sufficient illumi- 
 nation for Big Bill to see clearly, he being used to squint- 
 ing into the dark. Spriggins was not at home, as was 
 to have been expected on Christmas Eve or any other 
 eve. Mrs. Spriggins was sleeping the sleep of the weary 
 and exhausted on a pallet on the floor near a heap of 
 washing, over which she evidently had toiled all day and 
 evening. Bennie and Freddie and little Roselle lay in 
 an apology for a bed across the room from Mrs. Sprig- 
 gins. Hanging from the mantel-shelf were three pairs 
 of stockings, all darned and ragged. And pinned to one 
 of the littlest stockings was a piece of soiled paper. 
 Bill tore this off and held it where the candle-light would 
 strike it. 
 
 He had softly placed his pack on the floor, ready to 
 stuff the stockings, but as he read the little note he 
 turned and looked across the room at the children. Then 
 he tiptoed over to the bed and looked down at the three 
 faces. The boys were sleeping calmly enough, and so 
 was little Roselle, but on her white cheeks were streaks 
 that told of tears, and in her little fingers was the stub 
 
 of a pencil with which she had scrawled the note Big 
 Bill had read. 
 
 Big Bill looked back at his pack and muttered some- 
 thing under his breath. Then he rubbed his eyes. Then 
 he swiftly picked up his pack and hurried to the door, 
 where he found his partners waiting, ready to laugh over 
 his account of his performance. 
 
 " I got a dollar an' a half," he whispered to Jiggs. 
 " How much money you got?" 
 
 " T'ree dollars," Jiggs replied wonderingly. 
 
 "Give it to me." 
 
 Jiggs dumbly produced the money and turned it over, 
 Big Bill all the while descending the creaky stairway. 
 At the foot he turned to the others and demanded their 
 money. 
 
 " Didn't you leave de stuff?" Shorty asked, indicating 
 the full pack. 
 
 For answer Big Bill took the sack by the bottom and 
 dumped its contents into the alley. 
 
 "Naw," he growled; "an' I'm not goin' to. Dose 
 kids a-layin' dere, believin' dat de real Sandy is comin' 
 an' us muts tryin' to play horse wid 'em is too much fer 
 me. How much coin you got, Shorty?" 
 
 " Wot do you want wid it?" parried Shorty. 
 
 Big Bill took him by the neck and shook him terxier- 
 wise for a minute, and, when released from that clutch, 
 Shorty produced a fistful of small change, which was 
 pocketed by Big Bill. The others did not wait for an 
 invitation ; they silently handed over what was in their 
 pockets. 
 
 " Come on," Big Bill ordered, and led the way out of 
 the alley and down street to where a light gleamed from 
 the window of a little toy and notion shop. 
 
 " I'm Sandy Claus, an' I run out o' stuff," Big Bil 
 announced, entering the shop in his costume. " Gimme 
 all you got fer t'ree kids — two boys an' one girl — an' 
 most fer de girl — fer nine bones an' sixty cents." 
 
 There was a doll that opened and shut its eyes; there 
 
 " ' Santa Glaus,' it said, ' I want to kiss you good-by."
 
 was another doll that 
 squeaked " mamma " ; there 
 was a Noah's ark, and a 
 jumping - jack, and some 
 woolly dogs and sheep, and 
 a Teddy bear, and a railroad 
 train, and a fire-engine, and 
 a lot of other little things. 
 And the heap came to ten 
 dollars and exhausted the 
 stock, so the shopkeeper 
 made it the even nine dol- 
 lars and sixty cents. 
 
 Back to the alley and 
 back to the Spriggins house 
 rushed Big Bill, his faithful 
 train wondering what form 
 of insanity had stricken him. 
 Up the steps he went, two 
 at a time, and when he slip- 
 ped into the room he found 
 little Roselle sitting up in 
 bed, looking at the empty 
 stockings. 
 
 Big Bill put his finger 
 on his lips, and whispered 
 through his artificial whis- 
 kers, 
 
 " Hello, little girl! Keep 
 quiet now, 'cause I'm Sandy 
 Claus, an' if you cheep I'll — I'll fly de coop. " 
 
 Roselle's eyes were big by this time, and she sol- 
 emnly shook her head in a promise not to make a sound. 
 Big Bill methodically took the things out of his pack. 
 
 heat 
 
 GETTING EVEN. 
 
 Mr. Siy Par/or — " Well, it the landlady won't give me any 
 I'll use some out of her chimney." 
 
 MONK SANTA'S SURPRISE. 
 Santa Monk — " Great Caesar's ghost I What the Dickens do they take me for ? A moving van ?" 
 
 He stuffed the toys into the 
 stockings where they be- 
 longed. Roselle followed his 
 movements in amazement. 
 And when he shambled over 
 to her and laid in her arms 
 the marvelous doll that 
 opened and shut its eyes, she 
 looked up at him with awe. 
 Then her thin little lips 
 quivered and a big tear stole 
 down her cheek in a path 
 already laid out for it by one 
 of those that had been shed 
 when she went to sleep. 
 
 "Oh, Santa Claus I Oh, 
 Santa Claus!" she whis- 
 pered, hugging the doll. 
 
 " Dat's all right, kid," 
 Big Bill said slowly and 
 softly. 
 
 " You really came!" 
 "Sure t'ing!" 
 "And you're coming 
 every Christmas?" 
 
 " I'm damned if I don't!" 
 Then Big Bill shook his 
 finger warningly at her, and 
 said, 
 
 " Git yer doll to go to 
 sleep, an' go to sleep wid it." 
 
 Big Bill turned and started to the door, when a faint, 
 frightened little voice stopped him. 
 
 "Santa Claus," it said, "I want to kiss you good. 
 
 by." 
 
 It was the first time 
 such a thing ever hap- 
 pened to Big Bill, and it 
 was lucky he had false 
 whiskers and wig on, 
 for his face otherwise 
 would have been a com- 
 bination of alarm and 
 perspiration. 
 
 He got to the door 
 and out, with a memory 
 of two thin arms that 
 hugged him chokingly, 
 and of a wee kiss that 
 left a hot place on his 
 cheek. 
 
 In Janowski's saloon 
 later, after Big Bill had 
 discarded his Santa 
 Claus garb, he said, 
 
 " It would 'a' been a 
 cinch, only I found dis 
 note — an' den — well, 
 den, you see, we couldn't 
 give de kid de t'row- 
 down."
 
 He passed the note around, 
 and the others read : 
 
 " Dear Santy Claus i hav 
 been a good girl all yeer an i 
 kno you will come but benny an 
 freddy they say you wont becos 
 we are too poor but i kno you 
 will come an i want a dolly i 
 never had a dolly yet an i wish 
 you woud giv benny an freddy 
 somthing too becos they do be- 
 leev in you xcep they think we 
 are too poor for you to come 
 an 1 love you R o S E L L e 
 SPRiGGins." 
 
 " It's a better joke dan Je 
 odder way would 'a' been," 
 Shorty observed, dipping his 
 face deep into his glass. 
 
 "An', say," Big Bill re- 
 marked, " if any o' youse sees 
 Spriggins, tell him if he hits 
 de booze or gets pinched dis 
 comin' year, I'm due to knock his block off." 
 
 After the delight and amazement had subsided to 
 some extent in the home of the Sprigginses Christmas 
 morning, Roselle having awakened with the doll that 
 opened and shut its eyes in her arms, and there"by being 
 
 LOGIC. 
 Jim — " Say, Mame, wot's de reason everybody don't git 
 a present when dere's so many Santy Clauses ?" 
 
 convinced that she had not 
 dreamed it after all, Roselle 
 told her mother, 
 
 " Santa Claus is a rice man, 
 mamma — but he swears." 
 
 Had It Down Fine. 
 
 'W^HE housewife was showing 
 her new chambermaid 
 through the upstairs, when fi- 
 nally they came to a staircase 
 leading down into the rear yard. 
 
 " Mary," said she, stepping 
 out on the landing, " whenever 
 you wish to pass down to the 
 back yard go down this way." 
 
 Just then the speaker slipped 
 and was precipitated with a 
 great clattering to the bottom. 
 
 "Are yez hurt, mum?" 
 cried the affrighted chamber- 
 maid, staring down from 
 above. 
 
 "No; it's nothing," came 
 the return as the disheveled 
 mistress rose to her feet, in proof. 
 
 " Thin ye've got it down foine, mum; but th' job 's 
 too shtrenuous fer me." 
 
 A BED of roses soon wears down to the thorns. 
 
 A FALSE START. 
 ' What a nice little sister you have I What's her name?" 
 ' Mike."
 
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 CQ 
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 H
 
 GIVING THEM NOTICE. 
 
 The teller — " Before you draw any money we require thai you 
 give us a month's notice. " 
 
 The cook — " A moonth's notice isut? Are yezthinkin' av git- 
 tin' some wan in me place ? " 
 
 Looking^ Backward. 
 
 IT IS now quite the thing to run " looking-backward '' 
 columns in newspapers containing " newsie " items 
 from the files of the paper dating back into the mel- 
 low shadowland of the long ago. We desire to be con- 
 sidered eclat in this matter, so our city editor has laid 
 down his facile and trenchant pen long enough to clip the 
 following " locals " from the pages of this paper, dated 
 February 22d, 1770: 
 
 A tall Indian from Johnftown Hall ftole a jug of 
 apple-jack from under our fanctum-table Friday after- 
 noon. That new gun we took on adv. from the Queenf ' 
 Armf Co. of Bofton don't fhoot worth a cuff. 
 
 Van der Bogert of the Evening Twinkler took a pot 
 fhot at uf on Frog Alley laf t evening. Van ought to get 
 a globe fight fcrewed on hif nofe, then maybe he could 
 hit Van Flyck'f Ifland on a Calm Day. 
 
 If the perfon who left a bundle of beaver 
 fkinf at our door will drop in and make himf elf 
 known, we will credit him up on the bookf. 
 
 Tim Murphy if the boff hunter of the fea- 
 fon fo far. Monday he bagged a Mingo and 
 two Cayugaf. Come on, ye Nimrodf ! 
 
 The Village Fatherf have decided that 
 12 feet if wide enough for the new ftreetf. 
 
 If the perfon who threw an empty pewter 
 
 tankard through our 
 window Tuefday will 
 call for it next week, 
 we will be pleafed to 
 return it. We are hav- 
 ing the pewter melted 
 up into ounce bulletf 
 by the office boy, and af 
 foon af we get them 
 we will pay off feveral 
 old fcoref. 
 
 The edition t h i f 
 week if delayed while 
 a meffenger could go 
 after more ink. A 
 paffle of ignorant Sen- 
 eca Indianf broke into 
 the print fhop Thurf- 
 day night and took our 
 ink for war paint. If 
 the black-faced trucu- 
 lent incubufef are on 
 the war path looking 
 for trouble, they can 
 
 find about 897 gallonf of it by taking the River Trail eaft 
 to Cow-Horn Creek and rapping on the firft office door to 
 the left. 
 
 A young feller named Geo. Wafhington ftopped at the 
 Freeman Inn laft night on hif way to Ft. Stanwix. Geo. 
 if a good mixer, and if it wafn't for fome pretty fteep 
 ftories he told during the evening we could predict quite 
 a future for him. 
 
 Yefterday afternoon Walt. Butler of Johnfton Hall 
 burft into thif office about a minute ahead of a fit, and 
 reluctantly paying hif bill ftopped hif paper. He don't 
 like our " taxation without reprefentation " editorialf. 
 If the Devil had not miflaid our Tory Club, he 
 would have miffed hif appetite for feveral other worldly 
 thingf 
 
 DON CAMERON SHAFER. 
 
 HANDICAPPED. 
 
 " Gee! how I wishl 1 had an educa- 
 tion. I want to write to Santa Claus fer 
 an air-gun and an automobile and I can't 
 spell "em." 
 
 *' Come 
 the best Yule 
 
 YULE-LOG IN BUGVILLE. 
 
 on Billy. Hurry up and help me carry it. This cigarette will make 
 
 -log 
 
 ever.
 
 ^?^^l^5lfcM^ # 
 
 "" V'l'llllWlllliillllillliB iiii||i||lllilllillT«\lm'--^wi»im'«'j|-"^!PV
 
 Christmas Extravagance. 
 
 (t DUT next year we won't buy so much," I think I 
 
 ^9 hear you say. 
 You bought the doll for Marguerite, the tricycle for May, 
 The sled for little Abraham, the carving tools for Joe, 
 The set of furs for Geraldine — she's nearly grown, you 
 
 know; 
 The Christmas tree you had to have because of Baby Jule, 
 Whose wond'ring eyes had never gazed upon a previous 
 
 Yule. 
 You had to buy a lot this year, you couldn't help yourself; 
 But ne.xt year you'll be wiser far and save your hard- 
 earned pelf. 
 
 Of course you will ; why, certainly. But do you not recall 
 December, naughty-six, when you proclaimed to one and 
 
 all 
 That in the future you would be immeasurably discreeter? 
 You sang this song in various tunes and every sort of 
 
 metre. 
 And back at Christmas, naughty-five, it was the same — 
 
 remember? 
 You'd quit this lavish giving ere the following December. 
 And so, although, of course, you mean exactly what you 
 
 say, 
 I'd like to place a bet or two about next Christmas Day. 
 
 Go on and lie, oh, brother mine, about your liberality! 
 Swear you'll be stingy after this, and swear it with 
 
 finality. 
 Thank heaven, you've a heart within that never skips a 
 
 throb. 
 But always, as the slangsters say, is strictly " on the 
 
 job." 
 Thank heaven, there are things in which your judgment 
 
 doesn't rule, 
 And that it loses aye its grip upon the eve of Yule ! 
 Of course your giving's out of all proportion to your store. 
 But love and sweet self-sacrifice are twins forevermore. 
 
 STRICKLAND W. GILLI LAN. 
 
 INVITED OUT. 
 
 " How did her father treat you ?" 
 
 " Quite warmly. He invited me out." • 
 
 " Indeed !" 
 
 " Yes. He said, ' Come outside, where there'll be no danger 
 of smashing the furniture." " 
 
 What Broke Him. 
 
 UIGGINS had acquired a habit that he found hard t( 
 * break. It came from desk-work in an office where 
 there was little to do and none too much to pay. He had 
 torn a piece of paper from a tab and rolled and unrolled 
 it between the thumb and forefinger for so many years 
 that he found it hard to think without this accompani- 
 ment. Try as he would, he could not break himself of 
 the habit, and finally gave up in despair. 
 
 One day, while on the 
 street, a weighty mat- 
 ter kept troubling him, 
 but he found it impos- 
 sible to think clearly. 
 Unconsciously putting 
 his fingers into his vest- 
 pocket, they came in 
 contact with a ten-dollar 
 liill. It was all the 
 money he had left from 
 the last month's salary. 
 Takitig out the bill, he 
 rolled and unrolled it 
 while thinking out the 
 problem. At the con- 
 clusion he carelessly 
 tore the bill into bits, 
 as he had always dis- 
 posed of his roll of pa- 
 per, and tossed them in- 
 to the gutter. And that 
 broke him. 
 
 J. B. VANDA WORKER. 
 
 WHERE EXTREMES MEET. 
 ^ f^xv Longlocks — " Oh, sir, won't you kindly give me a paltry fifteen cents that I may malce myself a 
 Christmas present of a much-needed hair-cut ?" 
 
 Mr. BalJhcaJ — " No, sir I decidedly not. I'll have you understand I'm saving all of my dough to 
 make myself a Christmas present of a much-needed wig." 
 
 ^ATILL the conductor 
 ~ ' on the airship ex- 
 press shout, "Leap 
 lively, please "?
 
 1- 
 
 -a 
 
 H a. 
 < •>. 

 
 Titewad Gives Way to an Impulse 
 
 By Strickland W. Gillilan 
 
 WITHOUT it was snowing. 
 It was snowing also with. 
 But within all was comfort and expensiveness. 
 
 The wild wind whirled the sharp flakes against the 
 shutters and howled dismally and profanely. Occasion- 
 ally from the street came the sound of horses' hoofs thud- 
 thudding in front of a rumbling hansom or coach, the 
 very sound telling its own story of discomfort and haste 
 to escape the storm. Oh, it was cold, all right, and 
 blustery, and if this part of it is clear in your mind and 
 if you will promise to try to keep it in mind, I'll agree 
 not to describe it any further. 
 
 I just wanted to make it plain, that's all. 
 
 Inside the house sat an old man, slippered and gowned. 
 
 Of course he was inside. He wouldn't have besn 
 dressed that way out of doors. He sat by a fire, which 
 was also in the house, and toasted his shins in the 
 friendly flame. Not right in the flame, you understand, 
 but in the vicinity. He sat and thought. He sat 
 slightly more than he thought, just as in our daily busi- 
 ness we frequently lie more than we think. But he 
 thought a good deal. He thought of several good deals 
 he had made in the past few days, and of some others he 
 would make within the next few days if the other fellow 
 wasn't looking. 
 
 His thoughts traveled back to his youth. They had a 
 pass and could travel that way as far as they liked with- 
 out expense. Otherwise he would not have let them 
 travel. For old Titewad (and it was none other!) had 
 all the other stingy people you have ever heard of backed 
 precipitately off the planks. He drew closer to the fire 
 and took a lump of coal, extinguished it, and put it back 
 in the scuttle for use to-morrow. 
 
 He remembered, with a start, that it was Christmas 
 Eve. First he had started 
 with a thought, and ended by 
 thinking with a start. 
 
 Thus do things reverse 
 themselves in life. 
 
 Remembering that it was 
 Christmas Eve made him also 
 remember that it was the 
 twenty-fourth of the month, 
 and uneasiness seemed to take 
 possession of him. He arose 
 and paced the floor. As he 
 paced he was racked with 
 emotion. Pacing and racking 
 are almost synonymous as 
 racing terms. 
 
 Back and forth went the old 
 man, his slippered heels beat- 
 ing a tattoo on the floor. The 
 old chap would beat anybody 
 or anything, even a tattoo. 
 
 My goodness ! What a bad 
 /nan he was ! 
 
 RIGHT IN LINE. 
 " There's one good thing about living in this place. 
 Claus can hardly give us the go-by I" 
 
 Finally he opened the shutter. He shuddered as he 
 saw the swirling snow and heard the shrieking of the 
 wind. 
 
 It was just terrible cold. 
 
 Then he closed the shutter with a shudder, also with 
 his right hand. I guess he had the shudder in his hand 
 when he closed the shutter with it. That must have 
 been the way it was. 
 
 He went and put on his heavy shoes and donned his 
 fur overcoat. He pushed an electric button to call his 
 coachman, and soon he Sarahed forth into the night. I 
 would have said sallied forth, only I'm not sufficiently 
 familiar with the term to use its nickname. He gave a 
 brief and gruff order to his coachman, and away they 
 whirled through the storm. What were the thoughts 
 that had come unbidden to the mind of the old man as he 
 sat by the fire in his cozy room? He had been thinking 
 of a widow who lived in a lonely spot in the suburbs and 
 washed for a living and other folks. It was the thought 
 of her on this Christmas Eve that had sent him out into 
 the night. He knew she was not likely to be home in 
 the daytime. 
 
 Reaching the place, he sprang out of his carriage 
 and rapped at the door. A feeble voice answered his 
 rap. It was the right kind of weather, and a good time 
 of night, for any one to be wrapped up, but not rapped 
 up. Finally she came shuddering to the door. 
 
 " I have come for the rent," said the old man. 
 
 Foolosophy. 
 
 A WATCHED pot sometimes boils over. 
 
 The man who hates his paymaster worst is the 
 man who works for himself. 
 
 Some of us would be glad to be walled in on Wall 
 Street. 
 
 The only men who lose 
 their credit are those who 
 never had any. 
 
 Most of our smiles are 
 empty because the world is 
 full of trouble. 
 
 When money comes in at 
 the door love goes over to see 
 the neighbors. 
 
 If angels have wings some 
 of us will need our airships 
 buried with us. 
 
 A woman is always a wom- 
 an, but a cig-ar is often rope. 
 
 Didst ever see a man who 
 could look intelligent whilst 
 shaving his upper lip? 
 
 Did you ever notice how 
 few men there are who will 
 sneak up quietly behind your 
 back and put money in your 
 
 pocket? ROBERT CARLTON BROWN. 
 
 Santa
 
 A HARD JOB. 
 
 A LTHOUGH Mr. Jones was taken at his face value 
 ** by his son and heir, there were times when the 
 youthful William's admiring tributes embarrassed his 
 parent in the family group. 
 
 " I had quite an encounter as I came home to-night," 
 the valorous Mr. Jones announced at the tea table. 
 " Two men, slightly intoxicated, were having a quarrel 
 on the corner. As usual, there was no policeman in 
 pight, and they were in a fair way to knock each other's 
 brains out when I stepped between and separated them. " 
 
 " Weren't you afraid, father?" asked Mrs. Jones, in 
 a quavering voice. 
 
 " No, indeed. Why should I be?" inquired Mr. Jones, 
 inflating his chest. 
 
 " I guess there isn't anybody could knock any brains 
 out of my father!" said Willie proudly. 
 
 G. Havis Tempel, Bayou Sara, La. 
 
 LARCENY ON THE HIGH SEAS. 
 
 A YOUNG Irishman, desirous of working his passage 
 to America, applied to the captain of a sailing ves- 
 sel for a berth. Upon being told to get a recommenda- 
 tion, he secured the necessary paper, and was duly in- 
 stalled as a member of the ship's crew. 
 
 As the ship was about to sail, the captain found they 
 were one hand short, and wishing to take advantage of 
 the flood tide, took a German sailor from the wharf and 
 gave him the job. 
 
 This angered the Irishman, who kept his eye open for 
 a chance to get even. One day, while the German was 
 cleaning the deck with a bucket and brush, a huge wave 
 
 came aboard and carried the German away, bucket and 
 brush and all. 
 
 The Irishman was an interested spectator, and runnitig 
 down to the captain's cabin, he rapped sharply on the 
 door. 
 
 "Well," said the captain, wondering what was up, 
 " what's the matter?" 
 
 " Sa-ay," replied the Irishman, " whin I came aboord 
 this ship ye made me git a ricommendation, didn't ye?" 
 
 " I did," said the captain. " What of it?" 
 
 " Ye didn't make that Dutchman git one, did ye?" 
 
 " No," said the captain ; " I didn't." 
 
 " Well, " yelled the Irishman excitedly, "he's gone 
 awa' wit' yer bucket." 
 
 Allison G. Crandall, Kansas City, Mo 
 
 LIFTING THE HAT. 
 
 A YOUNG man, not wishing to do anything that was 
 not agreeable to the laws of etiquette, sent the 
 following question to the editor of a Karsas paper, 
 " Please tell me when and where are, or is, the correct 
 time for a gentleman to lift or remove his hat?" And 
 here is the reply he received. 
 
 " Without consulting authorities of etiquette — in 
 fact, giving it to you oflihand, so to speak — we should 
 say at the following times and on the following occasions 
 respectively the hat should be removed or lifted as cir- 
 cumstances indicate: When mopping the brow, when 
 taking a bath, when eating, when going to bed, when 
 taking up a collection, when having the hair trimmed, 
 when being shampooed, when standing on the head." 
 
 H. Steeb, Pittsburgh, Pa. 
 
 THE PROTECTING CLOUDS. 
 
 *' What I fishing instead of attending Sunday school ? Don't you 
 know the Lord looks down and sees everything you do? " 
 
 " Yep ; but he can't see nothin* to-day — it's too cloudy." 
 
 AN APT COMPARISON. 
 
 A HAUGHTY English girl was attending a cele- 
 * bration in a Canadian town, where both the 
 English and American flags were displayed. As 
 they floated before the breeze peacefully, side by 
 side, this proud little "Johnny Bull" exclaimed 
 in disdain, 
 
 " Oh, what a silly-looking rag the American 
 flag is ! It reminds me of nothing so much as that 
 cheap striped candy you sell in your stores." 
 
 "Yes," replied an American girl, who was 
 standing near by ; " the kind that makes everybody 
 sick who tries to lick it." 
 
 R. F. Abeel, Banksville, Pa. 
 
 INSULTED HIM. 
 
 AN EXTREMELY learned young lady, whii. 
 reading her book, had fallen off a sharp cliff, 
 and lay injured and helpless on the sands below 
 Finally, in answer to her cries, she saw the forrr 
 of a fisherman advancing cautiously over the cliff, 
 with a rope in his hand, to her rescue. £he 
 clasped her hands and exclaimed firvently, 
 " At last some succor has arrived!" 
 The fisherman turned and eyed her indignantly 
 for a moment, and then yelled down to her, 
 
 " It's a sucker I am, is it? Well, you can stay 
 just where you are !" 
 
 Ethel Denney, Somerville, Mass.
 
 An Etching. 
 
 UE SAT at his desk by the window, 
 pen in hand. 
 
 Perhaps he was meditating a vast 
 epic — a story in which he might recount 
 in stately measures the wonderful hie- 
 tory of his country — the noble deeds of 
 its generals and admirals, the accom- 
 plishments of its scientists, the progrcf-'S 
 of its citizens toward universal enlight- 
 enment. 
 
 And he sat at his desk by the window, 
 pen in hand. 
 
 Perhaps he was thinking of inditing a 
 passionate epistle to his lady-love — a 
 tale of the joy that thrilled him when 
 he thought of her — a descant on her 
 beauty, her graces, her amiability, her 
 condescension. 
 
 And he sat at his desk by the win- 
 dow, pen in hand. 
 
 Perhaps he had some musical score 
 in his mind — a sonata that w-ould rival 
 Bach or Beethoven, a nocturne that 
 would out-Chopin Chopin, a melodious 
 opera that would vie with Verdi or 
 Meyerbeer, or a bouffe that would out- 
 jingle Offenbach. 
 
 And he sat at his desk by the win- 
 dow, pen in hand. 
 
 Perhaps he was going over in his 
 mind a play — the great American play 
 for which the world has been so long 
 waiting, or a drama that would reach 
 nigh unto Shakespeare, or sorrething 
 in which there iwelt the fame of a Sheri- 
 dan or a Boucicault. 
 
 And he sat at his desk by the win- 
 dow, pen in hand. 
 
 And perhaps he was (and the truth is 
 he really was) just thinking what he 
 could write to his tailor in answer to the 
 
 IN GLASS HOUSES. 
 " We drove down to the Battery yesterday, and, my dear girl, you should 
 have seen the freak clothes some of those poor immigrants landed m. 
 
 cruel man's fifth demand for the settlement of his bill, when he had not a sou to pay for 
 a beer and thereby win the concomitant in the shape of the free lunch he was so sorely 
 in need of! 
 
 And so he sat at his desk by the window, pen in hand ! nathan m. levy. 
 
 Said in Passing. 
 
 PEAK about sloppincss in women ! there's a first-class example across the street," 
 grunted the woman-hater, pointing to a woman passing opposite them. " See 
 
 how she holds one side of her skirts up above her 
 knees and lets the other drag along in the mud. 
 That's a sloppy woman, that is!" 
 
 " I'll speak to her about it," quietly annexed 
 his companion. 
 
 "Eh! You know her?" 
 "Yes. She's my wife." 
 
 THE ENGAGED ONES. . 
 " We need look no farther, dearest. Can you imagine a sweller tree 
 than this one in which to build our nest in the spring ? 
 
 ¥T IS significant that if the octopus were dressy 
 ■* it would need a " coat of arms." So also do 
 the families that thrive on trusts.
 
 His One Error. 
 
 I ITTLE CHARLEY had been given a dollar to spend 
 ^* for Christmas according to his own ideas. A whole 
 dollar was a liberal allowance when the circumstances of 
 Charley's family were fully considered. So on the morn- 
 ing after he had done his shopping he was asked by his 
 father to give an account of the dispensation of his 
 wealth. 
 
 " Well," said Charley thoughtfully, " I spent ten 
 cents for candy, ten cents for more candy, ten cents for 
 peanuts, ten cents at the 'lectric theatre, and ten cents 
 more at the 'lectric theatre another day when I took 
 Eddie Brown in with me." 
 
 " That's fifty of it," commented his father, who had 
 been keeping count on his fingers. " Go ahead." 
 
 "Then I matched dimes with Eddie after the show, 
 an' he got all I had left but one." 
 
 "Yes, and that one, " prompted his father. "You 
 have it yet, I suppose?" 
 
 " No, I ain't," said Charley. 
 
 " But what became of it?" persisted his father. 
 
 After a profound study of a few moments, Charley 
 answered, 
 
 " 1 dono, paw; but it may be that I spent just that 
 one ten cents foolishly, somehow." 
 
 The Latest. 
 
 4i ¥'VE just taken offices in a New York skyscraper." 
 
 N 
 
 I 
 
 " What stratum?" 
 
 When Experts Disagree. 
 
 INE men had reached a ripe old age. 
 
 And yet were hearty, hale and strong. 
 Each offered an opinion sage 
 
 Of how he chanced to live so long. 
 
 IN LUCK. 
 
 " How did Santa Glaus treat ye this year ?" 
 
 " Fust rate. Jeff Colson brought back that gun he borrowed, I found 
 my old jack-knife in the woodshed, my taxes wuz redooced four dollars, 
 an' Aunt Eliza wrote to say she couldn't visit us. " 
 
 " I'm eighty-one," the first one said; 
 " I live on veg'tables and bread. 
 
 But had I eaten meat instead 
 
 I'd now be numbered with the dead." 
 
 "Tut, tut, my friend! ' the second cried. 
 " Why, meat's the food to put inside 
 To make you strong. 
 I've tried it fourscore years and two. 
 Just notice how it's pulled me through. 
 Your views are wrong." 
 
 " It doesn't matter what I eat," 
 
 Spoke up the man of eighty-three. 
 " V/hat keeps me well I'll gladly tell — 
 
 No liquor ever entered me!" 
 
 " Excuse my smile," said number four. 
 
 And from a flask they watched him pour 
 
 A half a glass and then some more. 
 " I'm eighty-five, and can't see why 
 
 A man should boast of being dry. 
 
 Well, as for me, I'd rather die." 
 
 "Tobacco hastens death, I ween," 
 Said number five. " You've never seen 
 A pipe, cigar or cigarette 
 Between my teeth; and you can bet 
 That's why I'm neither fat nor lean." 
 
 " I've smoked in childhood, youth and age!" 
 
 Exclaimed the sixth, a wise old sage. 
 " I'm eighty-seven, and I say 
 
 It's smoke that keeps me up to-day." 
 
 " The reason for my many years," 
 
 Explained a grandsire gray, 
 " Is my good wife, who always cheers 
 
 Me on life's troubled way." 
 
 " I cannot see 
 
 How that can be," 
 Cried number eight. " I have no v.<ife. 
 
 I've heard it said 
 
 That getting wed 
 Would greatly shorten up one's life." 
 
 Then rose the last. All turned to hear 
 " I've listened to your theories queer. 
 Excuse me if I disagree 
 With every one; but then, you see, 
 I'm older than the rest, and so 
 You must admit I ought to know. 
 I eat meat, veg'tables and fish; 
 I drink and smoke whene'er I wish. 
 I married once, survived my wife. 
 And still find pleasure in this life. 
 Y'ou want to know the reason why? 
 You give it up? Well, so do I!" 
 
 WILLIAM GANSON ROSE. 
 
 Preparing the Way. 
 Catsone — " Didn't I see you proposing to that Boston 
 girl?" 
 
 Gebhart — " Not exactly; I was just breaking the ice." 
 
 The Logic of It. 
 
 Haripyman — " This great man's biography says that 
 he never owed any man a cent." 
 
 Cynic — " Does it state why he never married?"
 
 Extracts from an Intense " Nature- 
 Faker's " Forthcoming Book. 
 
 (Trackers' Testimony, Cowboys' Corroborations, Cop- 
 per-colored Confessions, and Aboriginal Affidavits fur- 
 nished on application.) 
 
 THE APE. 
 
 Suddenly I came upon an Ape comfortably 
 
 seated on the top rung of a sausage-tree. To my surprise 
 he was reading one of Darwin's books on " Evolution." 
 (Six Indian affidavits go with this. Be sure you get 
 them all.) 
 
 THE JAGUAR. 
 
 Trailing a jaggy Jaguar through the dense 
 
 foliage, I saw him creep to the sandy beach of the river. 
 There he picked up a sharp clam-shell and, retreating to 
 a secluded spot, he began to cut the wag out of his tail. 
 
 THE SWORDFISH AND THE LEOPARD. 
 
 One day, while rambling through the jungle, 
 
 I stumbled over a sleeping Leopard. Although my heavy 
 shoes bumped roughly against the quadruped, it did not 
 arouse him. I thought this a splendid opportunity to 
 study this feline beast at close range; so concealing my- 
 self behind a nixsuch bush, I scrutinized the animal 
 before me from his jowls to his joints. Suddenly I saw 
 a Swordfish leap out of the near-by river, and, wiggling 
 to the Leopard, he sawed the animal right in half. Hav- 
 ing committed this dastardly deed, he wiggled back into 
 the water again. The Leopard presently awoke and 
 commenced to stretch himself. Then he found that his 
 hind legs and tail went in one direction, while his head 
 and fore legs chased a bird in the opposite direction. I 
 did not think this case interesting enough to follow it 
 and study it, so I walked away laughing at the thought 
 that one-half of that Leopard doesn't know how the other 
 half lives. 
 
 THE BOA-CONSTRICTOR. 
 
 A large Boa-constrictor was chasing me. 
 
 Onward and onward I ran as fast as my bow-legs could 
 
 TIME'S 
 
 The first Christmas shopping after they were wed. 
 
 5 
 
 A GOOD BLUFF. 
 Billie — " You's got an orful dirty foice, 
 Jimmie." 
 
 Jimmie — "Say nothin' — I's jollyin' my 
 goil I's got an autimobile." 
 
 carry me. I was cognizant, however, that the reptile 
 was gaining on me. At last I could feel its hot breath. 
 I felt its boneless body curl about my feet, tripping me 
 up and bringing me to the ground with a painful thud. 
 In an instant its tail was about my wrists, and I was 
 pinioned as with a pair of handcuffs; then, with its head, 
 the reptile went through every pocket in my garments, 
 taking all my money and other valuables. Later I 
 learned that the Boa gave my money to an outlaw, who 
 was thus enabled to buy a ticket and flee the country. 
 The Boa had befriended this man for a year. (Indian 
 affidavits will be furnished with this yarn at two dollars 
 per aff.) 
 
 THE LION. 
 
 I lay quietly in ambush, though I must confess 
 
 it was the first time I 
 
 ever lay in ambush with 
 such a hard mattress. 
 Suddenly I saw a bushy- 
 haired Lion walk over to 
 a pool that reflected his 
 grim visage. Looking 
 about and seeing no one 
 watching him, he pulled 
 a comb and brush from 
 his back pocket, and, 
 looking into the 
 watery mirror, he 
 smoothed out his un- 
 kempt hair, and, after 
 parting it in the mid- 
 dle, he hurried over 
 to a group of lionesses 
 who were holding a 
 social howlfest. 
 
 F. P. PITZEft, 
 
 CHANGES. 
 
 Their Christmas shopping some years later.
 
 AS OTHERS SEE US. 
 Both girls (simultaneously) — " Oh, look, mamma ! Ain't 
 
 Disinterested ProfessioneJ Advice. 
 
 (( DRING me that beefsteak potpie " 
 
 " Yassah," said the dining-car waiter, listening 
 near by. 
 
 " And bring me some of those French peas " 
 
 " Yassah; but, boss, maybe you-all don't know dey's 
 French peas in dat pie." 
 
 "No, I didn't. Thanks, George. And — ah — and — 
 ah, then bring me some potatoes " 
 
 " Yassah, boss; but maybe you-all didn't know dey's 
 'tatehs, too, in dat pie." 
 
 " No, I didn't. Thanks again, 
 George. It's mighty nice of you 
 to keep me from buying a lot of 
 stuff I wouldn't want." 
 
 " Yassah, Ah reckon it'smahty 
 nice o' me t' do dat, boss. Ah's 
 seen so many, m-a-n-y people — 
 nice gem-mens, lak you-all — was'e 
 money fo' veg'tables dat might jus' 
 as well 'a' been handed oveh to th' 
 waiteh. Yassah, Ah sho' has." 
 
 A Close Call. 
 
 I< tlOW many buckets of water 
 in the sea?" thundered 
 the king for the final question. 
 
 " Two, my lord," answered the 
 trembling peasant, " if the buck- 
 ets be big enough." 
 
 " By the pawn checks on my 
 crown, thou hast saved thy miser- 
 able life with thy ready answers I" 
 But now I wish I had asked thee 
 why the huge vases of red-and-blue liquors in the drug- 
 store windows." 
 
 Realizing how close he had been to death, the peasant 
 stammered his thanks and fled from the castle. 
 
 Then They Killed Him. 
 
 ** ^J^'" ^^'"^ ^^^ ofi'ensive punster: " a girl who per- 
 sists in hailing men tan't be a reigning belle. 
 She'll meet a good many frosts, and soon find her name 
 under a cloud. It won't dew." 
 
 that funny ?" 
 mused the king. 
 
 GOOD UNDERSTANDING. 
 Stster s beau — " With your little feet, I'm afraid Santa Claus won't be able to get much into your stocking." 
 Mabel — " I've thought of that, and I was just wishing you'd lend me one of yours."
 
 When Nerve Meets Nerve 
 
 66 (rp:rV ATHER-IN-LAW," 
 he began, as he en- 
 tered the library, 
 where old Money- 
 bags sat reading 
 the paper, " father- 
 in-law, I — I — want- 
 ed to — to " 
 
 " What ails you 
 now?" growled the 
 old billionaire, as 
 he scowled over the 
 top of his paper. 
 " If you've got anything to say, why don't you say it like 
 a man?" 
 
 "I — I wanted to — to say," he stammered, "that 
 your daughter, Maude — that is, my wife — is — is very 
 anxious for a — a Christmas present, sir." 
 " Well, can you blame her?" 
 "Oh, no, sir; but the — the fact is, sir, she — she is 
 
 very anxious for a diamond necklace she-^she saw in a 
 j-jewelry store the other d-day, sir." 
 
 "Humph! I told Maude when she was howling 
 around here for you a couple of years ago that she'd get 
 no more presents out of me. Well, what about the neck- 
 lace, anyway?" 
 
 " I — I thought that we — we might get it for her, sir." 
 
 " We!" thundered old Moneybags, in a way that lifted 
 the son-in-law off his feet. 
 
 " Y-yes, sir. The necklace is — is only ten thousand 
 dollars, sir, and I can spare five dollars toward it." 
 
 For a few moments the billionaire did not speak. 
 Then he burst out into a roar of laughter that fairly 
 shook the house, and as he laid his paper aside and 
 reached for his check-book, he chuckled, 
 
 " My boy, when Maude set her heart on you I called 
 her an idiot and said she hadn't brains enough to last 
 her over night; but I take it all back. She did see 
 something in you, after all. Why, with your cast-iron 
 nerve, it's dollars to doughnuts that you'll some day be 
 a billionaire yourself, and a credit to the 
 family. Here's the price of the necklace, 
 my boy, and you can keep your five dollars 
 for popcorn and cigarettes." 
 
 Some Unwritten Letters. 
 
 FROM WILLIE. 
 
 DEAR Auntie Jane : Ma says I've got 
 To write and thank you now for 
 what 
 You sent me — that old handkerchief! 
 But, darn it all! I'd just as lief 
 Have not had nothin'. Ain't no fun 
 In handkerchiefs! I'd like a gun. 
 
 FROM ALICIA. 
 
 Dear Mr. Spoons: I write in haste 
 To say your gift showed wretched taste. 
 Of course I must enthuse, et cet., 
 Because you may be useful yet. 
 But have you neither ears nor eyes, 
 To send a thing that I despise? 
 
 FROM PASTOR. 
 
 Dear Brethren, Sisters : I'm aware 
 That is a very handsome chair. 
 My thanks are due you, I suppose. 
 For such a gift — but goodness knows 
 I rather more content would be 
 Had you but paid my salary. 
 
 EDWIN L. SABIN. 
 
 Argument Pro and Con. 
 
 He — " I've caught you under the mis- 
 tletoe." 
 
 She — " If you kiss me, I'll scream." 
 
 He — "But if you scream, the people 
 will hear you." 
 
 Slif — " And if I don't scream, how 
 will they know I've been kissed?" 
 
 KISH DAY. 
 Mamie — " Why is your mother going to take us to the Aquarium instead of to 
 the Zoo, as she promised > " 
 
 Et/iel — " Because it's Friday, stupid l" 
 
 THE average trust would rather pay 
 $100,000 to hush up legislatures 
 than pay thirty cents in legitimate taxes.
 
 Q «= 
 Z -^ 
 
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 a: 
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 W CQ 
 
 Hi 
 u. 3 
 
 □3
 
 The Shearing of Samson 
 
 By Will S. Gidley 
 
 IT WAS early in the spring of a year recently num- 
 bered with the bygones that a dapper gentleman, 
 with a restless eye (or a pair of them, to be exact) 
 and bright auburn locks that fell in a rippling cas- 
 cade over his velvet coat collar, dawned like a stray 
 sunburst upon the bustling Western city known to fame 
 as Boomopolis. 
 
 Jauntily alighting from the decorated and beplushed 
 Pullman in which he had luxuriously journeyed thither, 
 via the Sunset Limited, the gentleman with the aureole 
 carelessly flipped a shining coin of the realm to the 
 smilingly solicitous Senegambian who had transferred 
 his luggage to the nearest hack, then swinging himself 
 aboard the waiting vehicle, he gave the crisp and busi- 
 nesslike order, 
 
 " Hotel— best in the place!" 
 
 "Sure Mike!" responded Jehu, with equal senten- 
 tiousness, and then as he started his horse off on a trot, 
 he added to himself, "Bycripes! if I haven't caught 
 old Paddywhiskers or some other dad-binged piany- 
 thumper or fiddler this time, then 1 miss my guess !" 
 
 But, though this seemed like a reasonably safe bet- 
 ting proposition, it turned out that this conclusion of 
 the hack driver was erroneous. 
 
 His passenger was not the world-renowned Professor 
 Paderewski, nor even a less exalted musical genius. 
 
 " Professor " he was, indeed, but not a professor of 
 the divine art of melody. 
 
 His sign manual, as it appeared on the register of 
 the Hotel Metropole, loomed up as follows: 
 
 " Professor J. RuSHMORE Snodgrass, T. H. D., etc. 
 Boston, U. S. A." 
 
 On the morning following the arrival in Boomopolis 
 of the picturesque and ornate gentleman above de- 
 scribed, there appeared, in a conspicuous position in the 
 advertising columns of the daily newspapers of the 
 town, the following peculiarly worded announcement: 
 
 The first red-haired man in all history 
 was Samson — Samson the Mighty ! 
 
 He slew wild beasts and Philistines, and 
 carried everything before him — until he patron- 
 ized a female barber! 
 
 The all-conquering Saxon had aurora-borealis 
 hair; that is wliy he conquered! 
 
 We shall have something more to say about 
 
 RED HAIR ! 
 
 N. B. Watch this space ! 
 
 THE VERY IDEA I 
 " There was a gieal deal of excitement down at the Press Club last nighu' 
 **\v'hat was the matter ?" 
 '" /^ newspaper man ioined.'
 
 On the succeeding 
 day those whose curiosi- 
 ty led them to look for 
 the advertisement or its 
 successor were greeted 
 by the following: 
 
 The fourth day produced che following : 
 
 The man with red 
 
 HAIR is a HUMAN 
 DYNAMO ! 
 
 Alexander the 
 
 Great had red hair! 
 
 Napoleon ditto! 
 
 So did George 
 
 Washington ! 
 
 MORAL: 
 
 Be a " bricktop" ! 
 
 N. B. Wateh this 
 
 space ! 
 
 One more revolution 
 
 DISPROVED. 
 " Don't you think a horseshoe is a 
 sign of good luck ? " 
 
 "Notferme. Every duraed horse . . , ., 
 
 I ever bet on wore shoes." "^ the earth on its axis, 
 
 and Boomopolis awoke 
 to find a new chapter added to the red-hair propaganda: 
 
 If you have red hair, rejoice ! the world is 
 yours ! 
 
 The " bricktops " are coming into their 
 own ! 
 
 Don't despair or commit suicide if you are 
 NOT a Titian blond ; wait and see the Professor ! 
 
 N.B. Watch this space! 
 
 Marc Antony and Mark Twain both 
 
 had 
 
 sunset locks; both made their mark in 
 
 the 
 
 world ! 
 
 
 Go thou and do likewise ! 
 
 
 If Nature has denied you the boon of 
 
 red 
 
 hair, there is yet hope for you ! 
 
 
 See and hear Professor J. R e S 
 
 -ss, 
 
 the Human Dynamo! He has a message 
 
 for 
 
 you! 
 
 
 N.B. Watch this space ! 
 
 
 On the fifth day the modest "professor" threw off 
 all disguise and stepped forth into the limelight as fol- 
 lows : . ; 
 
 TO-NIGHT! TO-NIGHT! 
 
 DON'T MISS IT! 
 
 A Discourse for Men Only ! 
 
 Professor J. RusHMORE Snodgrass, the Human 
 
 Dynamo or Modern Samson, will deliver 
 
 his world-famous lecture on 
 
 THE MAN WITH RED HAIR— 
 
 THE DYNAMO THAT MOVES THE WORLD! 
 
 In THE AUDITORIUM to-night, 
 
 at 8 p.m. sharp. MEN ONLY ! 
 
 Admission free to those ivith red hair ; 
 
 all others half price! 
 
 DON'T MISS IT! 
 
 TO-NIGHT AT 8! TO-NIGHT AT 8! 
 
 A NEW FACE. 
 
 " Did you say she has a stone-y look ?" 
 
 ' I did. People always speak of her couDtenance as het facade.'
 
 WORSE THAN THE BLACK HAND. 
 
 •' Whata means dis 'glad hand." Giovanni?" 
 " Eet is a beeg political society, Marie. All de 
 beeg city politicians belonga to dat." 
 
 As early as six-thirty that evening the first 
 stragglers began to gather at the entrance to 
 the Auditorium, the doors of which were still 
 closed. 
 
 At seven-fifteen the entire street in front 
 of the building was filled from curb to curb 
 with a jostling throng of people, clamoring for 
 admission. 
 
 When the curtain rose at eight p. m., and 
 the " Modern Samson," greeted by thunders of 
 applause, advanced to the front of the stage, 
 there was not a vacant seat visible anywhere 
 in the entire hall. 
 
 In addition to those who were fortunate 
 enough to obtain seats, many men, young and 
 old, were standing along the side walls and in 
 the space to the rear of the seats. 
 
 It was, in fact, a record-breaking audience 
 that had gathered for the free intellectual feast 
 promised by the smiling professor, or " Human 
 Dynamo," as he described himself, who now 
 stood before them. 
 
 "Friends," he began, in easy, conversa- 
 tional tones, " in the words of the late Marc 
 Antony, ' I am no orator as Brutus was,' hence 
 if you have come here expecting to be treated 
 to an outpouring of eloquence, you are doomed 
 to disappointment. I am here not to juggle 
 with figures of speech, but to give you a few 
 plain facts in regard to the red-headed man — 
 the human dynamo, as I have named him, who 
 moves the world and keeps the wheels of prog- 
 ress, achievement, and prosperity turning ever 
 onward. 
 
 " Look back over the world's history, and 
 you will find the men with red hair everywhere 
 
 conspicuous, looming up like beacon lights on a mountain top or 
 lighthouses along the seashore, to illuminate the pathway of 
 mankind with their brilliancy and lead the torchlight procession 
 of advancement. 
 
 " As I have stated in my preliminary announcements, Samson 
 of old, Alexander the Great, Napoleon Bonaparte, George Wash- 
 ington, and the two Marks all had red hair. So did King Philip 
 of Macedon, Julius Cssar, Xerxes the Great, Hannibal, Cyrus, 
 Scipio, Charlemagne, Oliver Cromwell, the Duke of Wellington, 
 Lord Nelson, Commodore Farragut, Pericles, Copernicus, Soc- 
 rates, Dante, Shakespeare, Michael Angelo, Sir Isaac Newton, 
 Benjamin Franklin, Herbert Spencer, Thomas A. Edison, and 
 thousands of others of the world's greatest rulers, warriors, 
 poets, painters, philosophers, inventors, astronomers, statesmen, 
 and thinkers in all branches of human knowledge and discovery. 
 
 " Most people, when they read of Julius Caesar at the head of 
 his legions; of Hannibal crossing the Alps and swooping down 
 on his enemies like an eagle from the clouds; of Copernicus 
 sitting up nights inventing the wonderful Copernican system or 
 time-table, by which the planets revolve on their axle-trees and 
 are ever hurled onward through space without colliding with each 
 other; of Benjamin Franklin writing his 'Poor Richard's Al- 
 manac ' with one hand and turning his printing press with the 
 other; of Sir Isaac Newton discovering the law of gravitation — I 
 repeat, most people, when they read of the achievements of these 
 
 NOT EXPECTED OF HIM. 
 *So you want a job, hey > Well, what did you do at your last place ?" 
 ' 1 didn't do anything. I was the office-boy."
 
 BeKiivd Tke Bfe^. 
 
 great personages, do not pause as they should to wonder 
 what sort of looking men they were — whether they were 
 tall or short, stout or thin, blond or brunette. 
 
 " This, however, is a vastly important thing to know. 
 
 " It is time that people woke up to the significance of 
 
 the fact that the majority of the world's greatest" men 
 
 have been men with fiery polls, or at least with hair of 
 
 some one of the many shades of red. 
 
 " Subtract the work accomplished by the man with 
 red hair from the sum total of human achievement and 
 progress, and nine-tenths of the pages of history would 
 be blank or sadly riddled. 
 
 " It is the red-headed man that has done things and is 
 still doing them! 
 
 " Look around among your own friends and acquaint- 
 ances, and see if the man with brick-dust or old-gold 
 hair is not invariably more successful in business, in 
 politics, or in love than his competitors. 
 
 " A little observation will show you that such is the 
 £ase. There is no denying the fact that 
 the cards of destiny are stacked in favor 
 of the red-headed man — or, in other 
 words, the man with red hair is it ! 
 " V/hat next? 
 
 " Yes, gentlemen, the question arises. 
 What next? Shall we, to whom nature 
 has unkindly denied the boon of red hair, 
 sit down with folded hands and let the 
 ' bricktops ' own the earth? 
 
 "For one, I say. No — a thousand 
 times vo ! Instead of meekly submitting 
 to fate, rather let us join the all-con- 
 quering procession of red-heads and get 
 our share of the good things of the earth 
 as they come along. 
 
 " You wouldn't think it to look at me, 
 gentlemen, but one brief year ago I was 
 as seriously handicapped by hirsute adorn- 
 ment of an undesirable hue as the most 
 of you are at present. But I called the 
 wonders of chemistry to my aid, and 
 after a few weeks of experimenting suc- 
 ceeded in perfecting the compound which the 
 
 produced the flowing golden locks which now adorn my 
 head. 
 
 " This transformation alone was wonderful, but this 
 was only the beginning of the many changes that were 
 to be brought about through the influence of that re- 
 markable discovery. It colored my whole life as well 
 as my hair. It changed me from a pessimist to an 
 octopus — I should say an optimist. It lighted up my 
 pathway and pointed out the royal highway of success. 
 
 "It has given me a sure foothold on the ladder of 
 prosperity, and has been literally worth thousands of 
 dollars to me. 
 
 " I want to see all my fellow-men benefited in the 
 same way, and that is why I am here to-night, relating 
 the wondrous powers and virtues of Snodgrass's Sam- 
 sonian Hair Renovator. It not only renovates and 
 brightens the hair, but renovates and brightens the brain 
 beneath it. 
 
 " The Samsonian Hair Renovator is simply priceless. 
 It is worth its weight in rubies to any man, but I am 
 selling it at the merely nominal figure of two dollars a 
 bottle, and as only one application is necessary every 
 six weeks, a bottle will last for years. 
 
 " Now, who will have the first bottle at two dollars? 
 All you've got to do is to sit right still and raise your 
 hands, and the ushers will pass through the aisles and 
 hand you the bottles and take your cash. 1 have only a 
 thousand bottles here to-night, and as there are fully 
 two thousand people in the audience, some of you are 
 bound to get left in this grand distribution of bottled 
 optimism and prosperity. Sorry I haven't more of it 
 with me, but I didn't anticipate such a magnificent out- 
 pouring, and — ah! up go the hands by the score and 
 hundreds! Be patient, gentlemen, and we will get 
 around to each one as rapidly as possible." 
 
 Several large cases were carried to the front of the 
 stage, and the exchange of bottles of the Samsonian 
 
 ANOTHER CASE FOR THE POLICE. 
 
 Mrs. Hen Roost — "What makes you so restless, dearie?" 
 
 Mr. Rooster Roost — " " Sh I sweetheart, don't move a feather I We are threatened by 
 
 The Black Hand." "
 
 Hair Renovator for two-dollar- bills had been rapidly 
 proceeding for some minutes, when there was a sudden 
 stir in the back part of the hall, and a late-comer, a 
 big, broad-chested six-footer, pushed past the door- 
 keeper, brushed aside the fringe of standees, and came 
 striding down the centre aisle straight toward the stage. 
 In his haste he had even forgotten to remove his hat. 
 
 " I've run you down at last, you red-headed swin- 
 dler! Just wait till I get at you!" he shouted, shaking 
 his fist at the aureoled " professor," who was beamingly 
 supervising the work of exchanging bottles of hair reno- 
 vator for greenbacks, which he carefully stowed away 
 in his capacious pockets as fast as received. 
 
 As may readily be surmised, an interruption at this 
 moment was most unwelcome. The smile on the " pro- 
 fessor's" face was instantly replaced by a frown. He 
 glanced uneasily in the direction of the newcomer. 
 
 " Some of you ushers put that man out! He's either 
 drunk or crazy ! Put him outdoors and keep him out !" 
 he shouted. 
 
 Two of the ushers caught the six-footer by the shoul- 
 ders, but he shook them off as easily as a bulldog dis- 
 posing of two spaniels, and strode on up the aisle. 
 
 "Crazy am I?" he roared. " Well, I certainly was 
 crazy as a loon when I paid you two dollars for a bottle 
 of that villainous compound of yours. Just see what it 
 did to my brain-pan! Do you wonder that I keep my 
 hat on even when I sleep? Look at my topknot!" hastily 
 snatching off his hat. " Beautiful shade of golden red, 
 isn't it? Green, I call it — grass green! That is the 
 sickening spectacle your red-headed hair renovator has 
 made of me! Think I like it? Imagine I enjoy having 
 my roof look like the seventeenth of March or the green 
 light in front of a police station?" 
 
 By this time the audience had begun to sit up and 
 take notice. The exchange of currency for the Snod- 
 grass brand of hair renovator had suddenly ceased. The 
 people whohadparted with their two-dollar bills were be- 
 ginning to mutter discontentedly. It was a critical mo- 
 ment. The " professor " knew that to quell 
 the rising insurrection he must act promptly. 
 
 "Call an officer," he commanded, "and 
 have that man taken out and put in the 
 lock-up where he belongs. He is a black- 
 mailer. I never sold him a bottle of my ' ' 
 
 "Yes, you did, you red-headed Ananias!" 
 broke in the verdure-crowned stranger. 
 " You sold me a bottle of it a month ago at 
 your lecture in Junction City. I followed 
 the directions on the wrapper for a week, 
 and then I caught sight of myself in the 
 glass, and I've been following on your trail 
 ever since ! 
 
 " I have overtaken you at last, and 
 right here is where we square accounts. 
 I'm here for the purpose of getting my two 
 dollars back, with a couple hundred plunk- 
 ers on top of it for damages, or giving you 
 the all-firedest and best-deserved licking you 
 ever had in your life. That's what!" 
 
 And witbout further waste of the flowers 
 
 of speech the gentleman from Junction City clambered 
 upon the stage and sailed in. 
 
 Two minutes later a badly-disheveled individual with 
 close-cropped, black hair emerged from the cyclone that 
 was in progress in the centre of the stage, shot out of 
 the rear entrance to the auditorium, tumbled headlong 
 into a waiting auto-cab, and was rapidly whirled away 
 in the direction of the station. 
 
 "Gentlemen," calmly remarked the burly stranger 
 from Junction City, facing the audience, and holding up 
 in one hand a wig with long, flowing locks of sunset hue, 
 and in the other a handful of greenbacks, "gentlemen, 
 the modern Samson has been shorn as completely and in 
 far less time than Delilah could have done the job. His 
 golden tresses, it turns out, were as fraudulent as his 
 compound for producing red hair. 
 
 " I think it likely we have seen the last of the ' pro- 
 fessor ' in this section of the country. In the haste of 
 his departure he has left behind him his handsome red 
 wig and a fair-sized wad of greenbacks that will just 
 about pay my traveling expenses and day's wages for 
 the time I've spent in running him down. 
 
 " I don't know whose money it was that this ex- 
 Samson was lugging around with him, but if any person 
 present thinks he has a better right to the plunder than 
 I have, let him step forward and present his claim, here 
 and now before I leave this platform, or forever after 
 hold his jaw. 
 
 " Once — twice — three times, gentlemen, are you all 
 done? Not a chirp from anybody, and the money goes 
 to the man who earned it by two minutes' honest toil. 
 Good-by, gentlemen, I'm off!" 
 
 And thrusting the handful of bills into one pocket, 
 and the captured wig into another, the victor in the re- 
 cent personal discussion clapped his hat on over his 
 green-thatched dome, sprang nimbly from the platform, 
 and with the stride of a conquering hero or a grenadier 
 passed down the aisle and out into the night, leaving an 
 admiring audience to follow suit. 
 
 ONE WAY OUT OF IT. 
 
 ' What ever made you cut that hole in your roof ?" 
 
 ' Had to. My wife objects to my smoking in the hou»e."_
 
 "The Bowery Kid 
 
 99 
 
 44^ A TOT'S dat? Do I hang up me stockin's on 
 jfyf C'ris'mus?" said " the Bowery Kid." "Say, 
 d'youse know I'm t'irteen, goin' on fifteen, 
 an' kin lick anyt'ing me size in de ward? Dis stockin' 
 bizness is all to de merry fur kids an' goils wot ain't 
 got dere eddication /et, but dis guy knows a few t'ings. 
 Dat's right. 
 
 " Wen I wuz a kid, dough, I uster hang up me 
 socks. Dat is, w'en I had any ter hang up, fur de old 
 lady alius fought it wuz healt'ier ter go widout 'em. 
 She said it give de feet a chance ter grow, an' by de 
 looks uv mine she wuz dead right. Talkin' uv feet 
 makes me t'ink uv de C'ris'mus de old man got pinched. 
 He went in ter git a pair uv shoes, an' got inter a scrap 
 wid de shoe clerk. He claimed he wore size tens, but de 
 clerk kept tellin' him he could take nines. Well, w'en 
 dey wasn't lookin' he follered de advice an' did take 
 nines. In course dey pinched him — not de shoes, but de 
 cops. He give de story in court jest like I'm tellin' 
 youse, an' it tickled de judge so dat he only give him 
 five days. Dat's right. 
 
 " But erbout hangin' up me socks. I wuz a young 
 an' innereent guy erbout nine w'en I did dat fur de last 
 time. I saved up me dough an' bought a pair uv stock- 
 in's 'bout eight feet long, an' hung 'em back uv de stove 
 an' went ter bed dat C'ris'mus Eve, t'inkin' uv all de 
 good t'ings dear old Santa wuz goin' ter put in 'em. 
 But say, boss, de way dis kid got it in de neck wuz orful. 
 
 I heard sum one in me room dat night, an' fought it 
 wuz Santa, but it wuz de old man, an' he took de new 
 stockin's I'd bought an' went out an' soaked 'em fur one 
 drink. Dat's right. 
 
 " Say, talkin' uv C'ris'mus makes me fink uv de hard 
 luck uv me old pal. Dinkey. Guess youse never met 
 Dinkey, did youse? Say, he wuz de prince uv kings, 
 dat guy wuz. He uster hang out in our shanty an' sleep 
 wid me, 'cause he fought he wuz a orphan, an' we uster 
 sell papes tergeder. Well, one C'ris'mus Eve we wuz 
 in our bunk, talkin' uv pirates, w'en erlong comes a guy 
 dat same night, an' claims he wuz Dinkey's uncle, an' 
 had been lookin' fur him fur years.. Poor Dinkey had 
 to go wid him an' live in a swell brownstone house, 
 'cause his uncle wuz rich, an' dey put him in school, an' 
 made him wear Sunday clothes an' keep his face clean 
 an' part his hair every day. Wot luck some poor guys 
 do have! He never harmed no one, did Dinkey, an' yet 
 it wuz his luck dat a big stiff should come erlong an' 
 spoil his life. Jest as he wuz learnin' ter smoke, too. 
 Well, as de old woman uster say when she found she 
 didn't have de price uv a pint, dis world is full uv trou- 
 ble, an' we all must have a piece uv it. Dat's right. 
 
 "Wot! Is dis bill fur me, boss? Fur me C'ris'mus, 
 eh? Hully gee! but I never had so much dough all ter 
 once! How am I goin' ter blow it? Well, foist I'm 
 goin' ter give de old lady a dollar on C'ris'mus to git 
 some clothes an' a hat wid. She woiks pretty hard over 
 
 IF.MN would indite 
 A few verses to Polly. 
 Something clever and bright 
 1 fain would indite 
 That would cause her delight. 
 
 Something tender, yet jolly. 
 I fain would indite 
 
 A few verses to Polly. 
 
 Dear Polly, 1 write — 
 
 But I'd rather caress you. 
 
 Were you only in sight I 
 
 Dear Polly, 1 write — 
 
 I'm not satisfied quite 
 
 With the way I address you. 
 
 Polly, darling, I write, 
 
 But I'd rather caress you I c. j. 
 
 '<^... 
 
 .X' 
 
 .^- 
 
 \
 
 HE SPOKE CARELESSLY. 
 
 Patient—" Sorry to bring you all the way 
 out here, doctor." 
 
 Doctor — " Oh, don't worry about that. 1 
 can see another patisnt and kill two birds with 
 one stone." 
 
 de wash-tub, an' de only fun she gits outer life is ter 
 dress up an' go ter a wake an' hear wot'a goin' on in de 
 neighborhood. I don't know erbout de old man, dough. 
 Youse can't trust him wid much coin on ercount uv dat 
 orful first uv his. I t'ink I'll blow him ter a necktie, 
 even if he don't wear no shirt or collar. Me little sis- 
 ter — she's four — she gits a dozen bananers all 
 fur herself, an' fur once she'll git her fill uv 
 dem. In course I'll giv her a doll an' sum od- 
 der t'ings. An' youse kin gamble dat I don't 
 furgit me kid brudder. Dere's a good little 
 guy fur youse! He's been teasin' me to learn 
 him ter smoke, an' I'll git him a pipe an' sum 
 terbacker on C'ris'mus, an' he'll have de time 
 uv his life. Oh, youse kin bet I'll put dat 
 bill ter good use! Dat's right. 
 
 " Well, so-long, boss. Any time youse 
 wants a guy licked youse send fur me, an' 
 dere'll be nuttin' to it but one punch in de jaw. 
 T'anks fur de present, an' I hopes yer have de 
 merriest kind uv a C'ris'mus. Dat's right." 
 
 True to Its Kind. 
 
 I^RS. MAITRON wandered through the 
 *"* mazes of the fascinating toyshop, and 
 finally stopped at the counter which held a 
 diversified assortment of mechanical playthings. 
 
 " I wish to see a toy for a boy of five years," 
 she said to the salesman. 
 
 "Something on this order?" ventured the 
 salesman, displaying a shaggy bear which 
 danced about in fits and starts. 
 
 "Oh, no!" exclaimed Mrs. Maitron. "I 
 must have something more modern." 
 
 " How about this toy automobile? It's a 
 remarkable little plaything." 
 
 "Yes; the automobile would seem better 
 suited to my purpose. Has it any up-to-date 
 featar«8?" 
 
 " It's full of them," declared 
 the salesman. " In the first 
 place, it is guaranteed to get out 
 of order before it has been used 
 a week." 
 
 " Is that its most realistic 
 feature?" inquired Mrs. Maitron. 
 
 " Hardly," replied the sales- 
 man. " Its most realistic fea- 
 ture is the diabolical pleasure 
 it seems to take in running over 
 the carpet." 
 
 A Vague Idea. 
 
 DURING his first visit to a 
 farm little Willie came in- 
 to the house, crying softly. 
 
 " What is the matter, dear?" 
 asked his mother. 
 
 " I went out to see the 
 cows, and they didn't give noth- 
 ing but milk," sobbed the boy. 
 " What did you expect?" inquired the mother. 
 "I'm not sure what I expected," replied Willie; 
 " but, mother, where does beef- tea come from?" 
 
 IGHTNING never strikes twice in the same place be- 
 ' cause the place isn't there after the first visit. 
 
 A SIXTH SENoL.. 
 Bobby — " Sister must be able to see in the dark." 
 
 Mother — " How so ?" , ,. (^ i • l 
 
 Bobby—" Because last night, when she was silting with Mr. bUylale m the 
 parlor, I heard her say, ' Why, Tom, you haven't shaved I" "
 
 The Drummer's Tale 
 
 By J. W. Foley 
 
 THE REMINISCENT drummer sat, with his legs 
 crossed, at his ease, a paper, half unfolded, full 
 of news, upon his knees. He heard them spin 
 their simple yarns of travel here and there; tales of the 
 grip and road they were — of rural bills-of-fare; of bills 
 of dry-goods bought and sold ; of lovelorn afternoons ; of 
 pickles, crackers, vinegar; of codfish, beans, and prunes. 
 And when their little tales were told he had a tale to tell 
 of battle with unnumbered foes and conflict fierce as — 
 well: 
 
 " It happened down in Panama," he said; " the night 
 was still and heavy with a swampy mist. I had no 
 heart to kill, but to my tent I heard them come by thou- 
 sands, fierce and bold, each with his dagger sharp and 
 keen. My blood ran icy cold. I was alone — no friend 
 was near. I rose from out my bed to grapple with this 
 horde of foes. Soon was I bloody red from half a hun- 
 dred stabs, I swear; and on they came, as though the 
 gates of hell had opened wide and every man a foe. 
 
 " One slipped upon me ere I knew. I struck at him 
 and missed; he drove his dagger to its hilt in my re- 
 treating wrist. And then, enraged, I struck again— the 
 lust of blood and strife swept o'er me like a wave, and J 
 crushed out his vicious life. His body dropped there at 
 my feet; another took his place, and blood flowed from 
 a thrust of his and trickled down my face. But soon I had 
 him in my hands, all blood and gory red— with one great 
 blow I crushed his skull, and he fell down there— dead ! 
 
 "They swarmed 
 like fiends into my 
 tent; the dead were 
 laid so thick I 
 stepped on bodies as 
 I fought. My heart 
 grew faint and sick ; 
 but, though they 
 struck me blow on 
 blow and wounded 
 me, and hot they 
 pressed upon me for 
 my life, they found 
 no mortal spot. 
 There, in that still 
 and tropic night, 
 they struck and 
 slashed, and then, 
 with eye to eye and 
 thrust to thrust, we 
 struck and struck 
 again, until I 
 thought, with misted 
 eye, of home and 
 friends, to whom no 
 message tender could 
 I send, there on the 
 brink of doom. 
 
 " One stole behind 
 
 me as I fought, his dagger sought my neck, but with 
 one mighty fist I struck, and left him there, a wreck of 
 bloody pulp and broken bones; another struck my throat 
 and missed my throbbing jugular by half an inch — my 
 coat was rent with gaping slits that told how fierce 
 they fought; my brow was wet and red with bloody 
 froth. Ah ! I can see them now, their ranks unbroken, 
 though I killed a score of them, but still they pressed 
 on me from every side to kill and kill and kill ! 
 
 " No man will know how many slain I laid about me 
 there; how many eyes looked up at me with fixed and 
 glassy stare. So heavy fell my mighty hand that from 
 a blow alone full many a one of them fell dead with not 
 a cry or moan. Ah, heaven, it made me deathly sick! 
 The night was dank and hot, and over me from head to 
 heels was scarce, a place or spot their daggers had not 
 pierced my flesh; but, though my blood ran free, I 
 had no mortal wound — but weak, ah, weak as I could 
 be! 
 
 " But I escaped, no matter how. And I am here to 
 tell the tale of that mad tropic night, but just how many 
 fell I could not tell you if I would; and often in the 
 night I dream of it, and wake all cold with a shrill cry 
 of fright. I see them come, with daggers sharp; they 
 strike at me and miss; no terror of my mortal days is 
 half akin to this. For fierce they are and know no 
 friend, and wild and know no law, and all the marshes 
 give them birth down there in Panama." 
 
 Had Two Faults. 
 
 I TNCLE REMUS, besides be- 
 ^^ ing an inveterate horse- 
 trader, was something of a 
 wag. One day, after swapping 
 a rather disreputable-looking 
 nag, he said, 
 
 "Now, stranger, I'll tell 
 yer fair. Dat boss hab got 
 two faults." 
 
 "And more, too, I guess," 
 assented the other. " But what 
 are they?" 
 
 " Wa-al, ef he gits out in de 
 field he's de hahdes' 
 boss ter ketch ye 
 ever seed, an' when 
 yer ketch 'im he ain't 
 wuth a cuss." 
 
 you 
 that 
 
 FREE WILL. 
 " Ah'm told yo' Soul Carolinian delegates will be uninstructed. " 
 " 'Deed, yas, sah. We am hee as air jes' so long as we do wot Mistah Cortelyou 
 tells us. " 
 
 A Loser. 
 
 4< UOW do 
 
 know 
 
 Mrs. Rogers isn't go- 
 ing to have new furs 
 this winter?" 
 
 " I played bridge 
 with her last night."
 
 it 
 
 Mariar" Gets a Grand Squ2ire 
 
 By A. B. Lewis 
 
 THEY said their name was Perkins, and that they 
 were from Podunkville, and they insisted on 
 shaking hands with the salesman in the music- 
 store who came forward to take their order. 
 Then the woman asked, 
 
 " Do you keep pianners?" 
 
 " Well, a few of them, ma'am," smiled the salesman, 
 with a wave of his hand at the forty or fifty instruments 
 in plain sight around them. 
 
 ^ " We've cum to buy Mariar a pianner fur Christmas," 
 announced the husband. " She's our darter." 
 
 " I see, sir. Well, you couldn't present a young lady 
 with anything on Christmas that would give her more 
 pleasure. Something, too, that will last a lifetime." 
 
 "I ain't so sartin of that," spoke up the woman 
 again. " When I was a gal we bought a organ that the 
 man said would last forever, but it didn't. Of course 
 once the roof fell in on it, and once it got full of rain- 
 water — and then mebbe pianners is stronger than organs. 
 Pa traded it fur a calf when it was ready to fall to 
 pieces, and " 
 
 " If you'll just follow me, please, " broke in the sales- 
 man as he led the way to the back of the store. " Now, 
 how would you like a beautiful instrument of this kind?" 
 
 " Is that a oianner?" asked the man. 
 
 " Yes, this is called an upright, and it is one of our 
 good makes. This instrument is valued at two hundred 
 and fifty dollars." 
 
 "Good lands, but I wanter know!" ejaculated the 
 man from Podunkville, while his wife was apparently 
 too astonished to express the surprise she felt. " Why, 
 great snakes! we kin git an organ fur eighteen dollars 
 over at Skinner's Creek jest as big as that, but we 
 wanted sunthin larger." 
 
 " Oh, you are probably looking for one of the old 
 square make?" 
 
 " One of them like you see in the opery-house. " 
 
 " I guess this is the style you mean," said the sales- 
 man as he led them to another part of the store. 
 
 "Yep, them's pianners, " declared the woman know- 
 ingly. " Lands, but ain't that one with the big legs 
 purty, Hezekiah?" 
 
 " Purty as a pictur' ! What might that one be wuth?" 
 
 " You can have that, sir, for forty dollars. You must 
 understand, though, that it's a very old-style instru- 
 ment." 
 
 " By gum, but ain't she a bargain!" exclaimed the 
 old farmer as he patted the clumsy affair and looked it 
 over admiringly. "Ma, there's sum lumber in that 
 pianner, I'm a-tellin' you." 
 
 PERSONAL ITEM. 
 Mr. Cy Linder Bore has unexpectedly returned to his stables and the turf again.
 
 " I never seen an eleganter one, Hezekiah." 
 
 The salesman walked away a short distance to let 
 them talk it over, and when he was out of hearing the 
 woman whispered, 
 
 " Hezekiah, I ain't never done nothin' wrong yit, 
 when T knowed it wuz wrong, and I ain't goin' to begin 
 now." 
 
 " What you drivin' at, ma?" 
 
 " At this pianner. You don't 'spose a big, fat planner 
 this size kin be sold fur forty dollars, when that skinny 
 one he fust showed us is two hundred and fifty dollars, 
 do you?" 
 
 " It do seem purty queer." 
 
 " Why, of course it do, Hezekiah, and when the mis- 
 take wuz diskivered this poor clerk, who may have a 
 large family to keep, would be discharged. No; he's 
 got these planners mixed, and we can't hev it on our 
 conscience." 
 
 The matter was explained to 
 the salesman, and he was given 
 every opportunity to correct 
 any mistake that had been 
 made, but it was finally neces- 
 sary to call the proprietor to 
 assure the couple that they 
 could have the larger piano for 
 the price named. When the 
 sale had been made the happy 
 purchasers shook hands with 
 the salesman again, and as they 
 were leaving the store the man 
 from Podunkville said to his 
 wife, 
 
 " Great snakes, but only 
 forty dollars fur a pianner that 
 will nigh fill the hull parler, 
 and lay over anythin' of the 
 «ind in the county! It's pun- 
 kin seeds to doughnuts that 
 Mariar will swoon right down 
 on the floor when she sees 
 her Christmas present bein' 
 dragged into the house!" 
 
 Office Personalities. 
 
 'l^HE blotter — Retentive; ab- 
 sorbs a great deal. 
 
 The desk — Receptive, sym- 
 pathetic; likes to be leaned on. 
 
 The ink-well — Extremely 
 versatile; can write a wrong 
 or wrong a write. 
 
 The scissors — Sarcastic and 
 malicious; very cutting and 
 ever willing to separate. 
 
 The paste-pot — Persistent, 
 persevering; possesses the fac- 
 ulty of sticking to things. 
 
 The pen — Enterprising, am- 
 bitious ; ever waits for an op- '' 
 portunity to make ita mark. 
 6 
 
 The waste-basket — Intemperate, aggressive; fre- 
 quently gets full, and is fond of scraps. 
 
 The writing-table — Diminutive, quiet; can easily be 
 covered, and always remains stationary. 
 
 The calendar — Contemporaneous, but lazy; always up 
 to date, but frequently takes a month off. 
 
 The revolving chair — Retrogressive, but philan- 
 thropic; goes backward, but is always ready to do a 
 
 good turn. PBRRINE LAHBERT. 
 
 An Annoying Error. 
 
 IpHAT was a very annoying typographical error that 
 crept into the papers the other day, telling how a 
 prominent society man had been held up by highwaymen 
 and " robbed of his watch and other vegetables." The 
 editor has come out with an explanation that the last 
 word was not vegetables, but valuables. 
 
 •SNOWIN" AG'IN. EH? WE iV££0 SNOWl"
 
 Useless Trouble. 
 
 TOMLINSON had gone south on busi- 
 ness, and early one morning he set 
 out to call on a customer who lived 
 several miles from town. There were 
 no transportation facilities, and Tomlin- 
 son, after having found that he couldn't 
 even hire a horse decided to walk. He 
 had accomplished a little more than half 
 of his journey when he arrived at the 
 bank of a river, where a robust negro 
 operated a ferry. 
 
 Dipping into his pockets for the nec- 
 essary change, Tomlinson discovered with 
 considerable chagrin that he had left his 
 money at the hotel. He hadn't a cent 
 with him. Assuming a bold front, how- 
 ever, he asked, 
 
 " Eph, do you take people across the 
 river?" 
 
 " Well, boss. Ah reckon hit wouldn' 
 do me no good ter opehrate dis yeh ferry 
 ef Ahdidn'." 
 
 "Come, then; take me over. I'm in a hurry." 
 
 " Ah on'y chahges five cents." 
 
 Tomlinson again felt in all his pockets, and failing to 
 find a coin of any kind, said, 
 
 " Very well ; that will be all right. I forgot to bring 
 any change with me ; but I'll pay you when I come back. " 
 
 " Ain't yo' all got five cents?" 
 
 "No; I forgot to bring my pocketbook. But it will 
 be all right — I'll pay you when I return. Come! I'm in 
 a hurry." 
 
 " All Ah chahges is five cents." 
 
 "I know," Tomlinson impatiently replied, again 
 searching his pockets. " I don't happen to have the 
 change; but nevermind about that. I'll be coming back 
 this way in a little while, and I'll pay you then." 
 
 HOPELESS. 
 " Now don't ask me another question. Little boys should not be loo inquisitive.' 
 " Why mustn't I ask you any more, daddy ? And what's tnquisili've ? " 
 
 " Jes' five cents. Dat's all Ah eber chahges fo' 
 takin' ennybody oveh. " 
 
 " I understand that fully; but it will be all right. I 
 must get over immediately. Hurry, now! I can't afford 
 to waste time listening to your explanations. I don't 
 object to your price." 
 
 " An' yo' all ain't got five cents?" 
 " NO! NO! NO! How many times must I tell you 
 that I forgot to bring any money with me?" 
 " Hit's on'y five cents." 
 
 " You've told me that a dozen times. I'll see that 
 you get it when I return." 
 
 " An' yo' all hasn't got five cents?" 
 " Confound' you! do you suppose I'd stand here wast- 
 ing time if I had? Come, now; hurry. I must get over 
 there at once." 
 
 " Well, boss, hit seems ter me dat a 
 man whut ain't got five cents might jes' 
 as well be on one side ob de ribbeh as 
 de yutheh. " s. e. kisek. 
 
 The Nature of the Beast. 
 
 ^^RS. GUNSON was entertaining a 
 visitor when Nora appeared at the 
 door of the drawing-room. 
 
 " Plaise, mum, will yez tell me phat 
 yez want done wid th' oyster-shells yez 
 left from lunch?" she inquired. 
 
 " I want them thrown away, of 
 course," replied Mrs. Gunson. 
 
 " Yis, mum; but Oi didn't know phere 
 to throw thim," replied Nora. " Do they 
 be ashes or jarbridge?" 
 
 SAFETY IN THE SIMPLE LIFE. 
 
 ' Aren't you glad, Birdiana, that we are simple folks ?" 
 
 Fashion Note. 
 
 AST year's overcoats are very much 
 
 worn.
 
 A MESSAGE FROM THE SPIRIT WORLD. 
 
 The Speediac. 
 
 SPEED, speed, speed ! 
 What of the things that we read, 
 Telling of woe and of death and disaster? 
 Turn on the power! Ho! faster and faster! 
 Over the highways, down through the lane — 
 Little care we for huge wagons of grain. 
 Let us have at 'em, grind 'em to powder! 
 Honk with your horn, there, louder and louder! 
 
 Speed! 
 
 Let us have speed! 
 Ha, for the road with the twist and the curve! 
 That was a beauty — that was a swerve ! 
 Straining the axles and straining the wheels. 
 Grinding the car till each bolt in it squeals — ■ 
 Squeals like a creature that's griping in pain! 
 Here is another! Have at it again! 
 
 Speed ! 
 
 Let brakes be freed ! 
 Throw 'em away, for they only impede. 
 What is that scream in the distance we hear? 
 Is it in front or far back at the rear? 
 Some one is down, but we are away. 
 Pounding to dust all the broad highway, 
 Monarchs of all to the uttermost scene 
 Here in our thunderbred lightning machine! 
 
 Speed ! 
 
 Give us more speed ! 
 We have no care foi- the shapeless that bleed. 
 On like the course of the blustering wind. 
 Careless of what lies before or behind! 
 Breath of my nostrils, life to my soul, 
 Gliding and sliding past any control ! 
 OVER THE CLIFFS! Ha! downward we fly- 
 Iron scrap, human scrap, we by and by. 
 Crashings ahead and black ruin behind. 
 One moment longer and — ah, never mind! 
 We've done our work and won by a breath 
 The record in speeding the Highway to Death ! 
 
 JOHN KENDBICK BANGS. 
 
 Modern Methods. 
 
 <{ ^kyf OTHER, of course business methods have 
 * •* changed, and people do things quicker than 
 they used to, don't they?" 
 
 "Why, certainly, dear." 
 
 " When grandma was little and 
 ordered things from the city, she 
 had to wait a long time for them 
 to come, didn't she?" 
 
 " To be sure, my dear. Why 
 do you ask?" 
 
 " Well, I was thinking Santa 
 Glaus has adopted modern busi- 
 ness methods and wants to be 
 sure his presents get here on 
 time. I see he has already stored 
 the things I asked for in the old 
 cupboard in the storeroom." 
 
 Not Well To Butt In. 
 
 ** A^'^'^^ ^^^ crash," imparted 
 * the first hospital surgeon 
 to the second, ' ' I ran over to where 
 it lay on the pavement; and when 
 I raised it up I saw at once that 
 its ribs were smashed, while a 
 
 gaping hole was torn in its " 
 
 ■' Pardon me, doctor," broke in the medical student, 
 who had caught these words as he was about to pass by 
 into the consumptive ward; " but if you have no objec- 
 tions, I'd like to take a few notes on that accident 
 case." He pulled his notebook from his pocket. "Was 
 the case a child?" 
 
 " No," the surgeon informed him, to his embarrass- 
 ment. " I was speaking of my umbrella." 
 
 Promptly Proven. 
 
 She — " Men and women can't be judged by the same 
 standards. For instance, a man is known by the com- 
 pany he keeps." 
 
 He^" And a woman by the servants she can't keep." 
 
 THE POINT OF VIEW. 
 
 Mn H£-»—" Willie has a bad cold. I beli 
 wet." 
 
 Dr Drake — " H'm I Nonsense, 
 warm and dry." 
 
 leve he got his feet 
 He may have kept them too
 
 A LOVE AFFAIR. 
 
 ¥T WAS Sunday afternoon 
 
 and they were strolling 
 slowly along the boulevard. 
 Suddenly he took her arm 
 lovingly and leaned over, with 
 his face close to hers. 
 
 "Do you love me?" he 
 whispered. 
 
 She laughed merrily, but 
 did not answer. This seemed 
 to encourage him, for, with a 
 quick movement, he slipped 
 his arm around her waist. 
 
 She pulled away hastily 
 and, with a frown, said, 
 "Don't do that!" 
 
 He persisted, and she be- 
 came angry. 
 
 " Don't do that!" she re- 
 peated. " What will people 
 think? You act as if you 
 were drunk ! I'll turn around 
 and go the other way if you 
 don't stop." 
 
 Paying no attention to her 
 protestations, he continued 
 his efforts to encircle her 
 
 waist. Once he tried to kiss her, and at each attempt 
 she became more and more vehement in her protes- 
 tations. 
 
 At length the little boy who was tagging along be- 
 hind could stand it no longer. With all the force that 
 his five short years could muster, he exclaimed, 
 " Piipa, 1 think it is real mean to tease mamma that 
 way!" 
 
 L. A. O'Brien, Winston-Salem, N. C. 
 
 MAKING UP FOR LOST TIME. 
 
 JAKE was a German carpenter. With 
 his two men he had driven out to 
 work on a barn. It came dinner time, 
 and Jake and the boys gathered up their 
 tools and hurried for the wagon, for a 
 big bank of black clouds was gathering. 
 Soon the rain was coming on at a twenty- 
 mile-per-hour gait. Just as they reached 
 the wagon the storm struck, but in they 
 jumped, expecting to make a run for 
 home. As it happened, Jake was driv- 
 ing a speedy little mare, but she had one 
 fault — she would balk, and the excite- 
 ment of the situation put her in mind of it. 
 
 " Git ub !" said Jake, as the rain 
 streamed down in sheets. "Gitub!" And 
 he plied the gad, butMolly wouldn't move. 
 
 One of the hands suggested that they 
 had better go back to the barn for shelter, 
 but Jake answered," Nein, nein ; you shust 
 set shtill. We git heem shtarted burty 
 soon, und then we make ub for lost time." 
 Datus R. Jones, Bowling Green, O. 
 
 Mabel (gushingly) — 
 
 Katherine — " Only ten cents an ounce. 
 
 NOT EXPENSIVE. 
 
 " Isn't that laint tinge o( gold in Sarah's hair perfectly dear?" 
 
 ACCOUNTED FOR. 
 
 << ]kyf AMMA,'-' said little Elsie, "do men ever go to 
 heaven?" 
 " Why, of course, my dear. What makes you ask?" 
 "Because I never see any pictures of angels with 
 whiskers." 
 
 " Well, " said the mother thoughtfully, " some men do 
 go to heaven, but they get there by a close shave." 
 
 C. O. Reinhold, Lansdale, Pa. 
 
 TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE. 
 Look here! I'm lired of running to you for my rent. This is (he last 
 
 The landlady- 
 time 1 ask you for it.'' 
 
 Arliit lodger — " Good I Is that a promise ?
 
 Her Great Discovery 
 
 By A..B. Lewis 
 
 «( 1^0, GEORGE," she said, after he had told her the 
 old, old story; " I can never be yours." 
 
 " You love another!" he groaned. 
 
 "No; honestly, I don't. " 
 
 "Then there is hope. Listen to me, Madge. My 
 salary was almost doubled last week." 
 
 " I am glad for your sake, George." 
 
 " And I am to be taken into the business inside of a 
 year." 
 
 " That's lovely, of course ; but " — — 
 
 " And some day, maybe within five or six years, I'll 
 be worth a lot of money." 
 
 " Yes, I know, George; but"- 
 
 " We would live in a beautiful residence and have 
 servants and horses." 
 
 " You talk like a fairy story. Say no more, George, 
 for" 
 
 " And we'll have our steam yacht and Newport villa 
 and go to Europe every spring." 
 
 " Five years is a long time. You would probably be 
 tired of me long before that." 
 
 " Never!" he exclaimed fervently, as he reached for 
 her hand. "I love you as woman was never loved be- 
 fore. And another thing. Three months ago I plunged 
 on stocks and cleared up a neat little sum." 
 
 " Yes, it's very clever of you, George; but" 
 
 " I invested part of it in an automobile, and the ma- 
 chine will be ready for us to try to-morrow." 
 
 "Oh, George!" 
 
 "It is one of those handsome big touring-cars that 
 always make your mouth water when they fly by. My I 
 but it's a beauty !" 
 
 For two or three minutes she made no reply ; then, 
 as she returned the pressure of his hand, she said, 
 
 " George, f — I have just made a great discovery." 
 
 " What is it, Madge?" he asked. 
 
 " I — I have just discovered that you are my affinity." 
 
 Captious Criticism. 
 
 <« OASDON me," said the budding poet to the crabbed 
 editor. " May I inquire why you do not wish to 
 accept my poems? Are the feet wrong?" 
 
 "The feet are passable," replied the 
 crabbed editor, with some acerbity, " but 
 the poems are bow-legged." 
 
 A North Pole Honeymoon. 
 
 I HAVE a sledge that's filled with furs, 
 A reindeer four-in-hand, sweet soul. 
 To me it happily occurs 
 
 A honeymoon at the north pole, 
 
 Where we can be alone, my love. 
 
 And freeze together with a kiss, 
 And on the polar heights above 
 
 In ice-cream sodas find our bliss. 
 
 Come, let my reindeers caracole. 
 
 The runners of my sledge grow hot. 
 
 Th' Ultima Thule of my soul 
 
 Will cool said runners like as not. 
 
 Ecstatic gargoyles of Jack Frost 
 
 Adorn our icy little cot; 
 Cold-storage eggs, at half the cost. 
 
 We'll boil in some stalactite pot. 
 
 Come, let us freeze together, love. 
 And hibernate like loving bears. 
 
 And squeeze together hand in glove — - 
 The pole alone is free from cares. 
 
 WALTER BEVERLEY CRANE. 
 
 Poor Critter! 
 
 << ¥ HEAR that your husband is critically 
 * ill, Mrs. Tiff," said Mr. Gummey. 
 "Yes; he is. He criticises the' doctor, 
 and he criticises the nurse, and he criticises 
 me. Oh, he's critically ill all right." 
 
 INCENTIVE LACKING. 
 "What a dittinguished-looking man Lord Muttinchoppe is I I wonder if he is 
 over here loolung for an American wife ?" 
 
 "Why, of course noil Didn't you know he is very wealthy ?" 
 
 <( 
 
 Grave Enough. 
 
 I^AfHERE is the centre of gravity, pa?' 
 
 " An Englishman, if there's one in 
 
 the crowd.
 
 THE HRST TASK. 
 
 His reverence — "Pat, Pat! you're making a mistake 
 in teaching a child of such tender years to smoke the pipe." 
 
 Pal — " Make yure moind aisy, father. 'Tis not that 
 Oi*m afther doin' — Oi'm only weanin* th' little divil frum 
 ^h' bottle, do ye moind ?" 
 
 That Was Different. 
 
 « riELLO!" 
 
 ** "Well?" 
 
 " Is this the gas company?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " My gas bill for last month is one dollar and fifty 
 cents." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " That is away off, and " 
 
 "Just one moment, please." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " In the first place, our men who read the meters are 
 not in the habit of making mistakes." 
 
 " But, you see, we " • 
 
 " We employ capable fellows who know their busi- 
 ness, and it is utterly impossible for a mistake to be 
 made. They turn in their figures after a careful ex- 
 amination of the meter, and a most competent office 
 force here does the rest. If you were charged one dollar 
 and fifty cents for gas last month, you may be dead cer- 
 tain that you burned exactly that much and no more." 
 
 " But I wanted to " 
 
 " There is no use declaring your house has been closed 
 and you have been out of town. The bill will have to be 
 paid or we will take out your meter." 
 
 " Oh, I'm perfectly willing to pay the dollar and fifty 
 cents." 
 
 " Then what are you kicking about?" 
 
 " And this is not a kick." 
 
 "It isn't?" 
 
 " No. I merely wanted to state that we burned gas 
 night and day during the month, owing to sickness, and 
 
 that the bill should have been at least ten dollars, ©f 
 course, if you don't want to correct it, I'm perfectly 
 satisfied. How about it?" 
 
 But the man in the gas office had collapsed. 
 
 And He Did. 
 
 A CERTAIN college town in the South boasts of a 
 bridge of privileges. Students take advantage of 
 the liberty given them through the legend, when driving 
 with young lady visitors to cross the famous bridge, to 
 tell the story, and to illustrate it at the propitious 
 moment of crossing. 
 
 The story was told recently that Mr. Dubose was 
 driving with Miss Brown. The young lady was affected 
 with a slight, though charming, lisp. When Mr. Dubose 
 had related the legend of the bridge, he added, "And 
 now. Miss Brown, when a fellow drives across with his 
 girl, he has the undisputed privilege of taking her in his 
 arms and kissing her." 
 
 The astonished Miss Brown cried, in wise apprehen- 
 sion, " Oh, Mithter Duboth !" 
 
 Another Version. 
 
 AS THEY neared the land the whale began to wail 
 ** bitterly. 
 
 " What are you blubbering for?" called Jonah from 
 the cabin. 
 
 "Boo-hoo! You've Jonahed the trip, and I'll have 
 to cough up the missing profit." 
 
 ONLY A RETAILER. 
 
 Boozer Broiun — " jest as 1 antiserpated I Dey're goin' ter raise 
 de price uv beer a dollar a keg. ' 
 
 Dull Dolan — "Hump I Dat won't feaze me in de leait I 
 always buys mine by de glass."
 
 Taming a Iiusb2^nd 
 
 By Dwight Spencer Anderson 
 
 ««^|^ 
 
 HESE potatoes," remarked Charles to his wife 
 
 stuff I ever ate. You must have soaked them 
 in lard after you fried them." 
 
 "My dear, " replied his wife, "you said the same 
 thing to me yesterday. Try to think up something new 
 to say about the potatoes to-morrow, won't you, dear?" 
 "Humph!" ejaculated Charles; "it's the truth. 
 There's nothing reprehensible in repeating the truth, is 
 there? The fact is, Mabel, you don't know beans about 
 cooking, and still you try to fool me into thinking you 
 do. That's what I object to. Now, it's a very simple 
 matter to fry potatoes properly. All you have to do is 
 to stick them in a pan and put them on the stove. 
 There's nothing very complex about that operation. 
 Why, you ought to eat some of my mother's potatoes. 
 She knows how to fry 'em, I'll tell you that!" 
 
 " Charles, you must remember that your mother is 
 an unusually good cook." 
 
 " Of course she is! That's just the point I'm trying 
 to impress on you. Her potatoes are so crisp and brown 
 that a fellow never gets enough of them. Why don't 
 you get her recipe, Mabel?" 
 
 " That's an excellent suggestion," she replied. " I'll 
 'phone for it this morning." 
 
 After he had gone Mabel called up her mother-in-law 
 and persuaded her to make a visit that afternoon for a 
 few minutes. She said she would have to leave early, 
 in order to get supper for her family, 
 but Mabel said that would be all right. 
 
 The two women chatted about one 
 thing and another for a while, and then 
 Mabel suggested that Mrs. Adams should 
 cook some potatoes. 
 
 "Charles just dotes on your pota- 
 toes, "she said. " He's always speaking 
 to me about them, and I know he would 
 be overjoyed to have them for supper." 
 So Mrs. Adams fried the potatoes very 
 carefully and pridefuUy, and they were 
 placed in the oven to keep warm until 
 Charles came home. 
 
 " As you cannot stay to see your son, " 
 said Mabel adroitly, "won't you write 
 him a little note and say you fried the po- 
 tatoes for him? He will be so pleased !" 
 So Mrs. Adams scribbled the note and 
 gave it to Mabel. She left immediately 
 afterward, for she had other potatoes to 
 
 fry. 
 
 Charles entered the house that even- 
 ing, tired and hungry. It had been a 
 hard day for him at the office. "Did 
 you get that recipe?" he growled. 
 
 "Yes, dear," replied Ma- 
 bel sweetly. 
 
 They sat down for the 
 evening meal. 
 
 Charles took one taste of the potatoes. " For the 
 love of Moses, Mabel, you don't mean to tell me you 
 cooked these potatoes with mother's recipe!" 
 
 ' ' They are fried exactly as your mother would do it, '• 
 replied Mabel. 
 
 "Humph! There's a lot of difference in cooking, 
 then.' Why, these are not so good as we had this morn- 
 ing! They taste like damp rope or sponge or something 
 equally indigestible. You don't expect me to swallow 
 this sort of stuff, and block my circulation in an attempt 
 to force it to assimilate it, do you?" 
 
 " Not if you do not wish to, Charles." 
 
 " Well, I certainly won't do it of my own choice. It 
 would be criminal. I'm not a whale or an ostrich. 
 Let's go to a restaurant and get something to eat." 
 
 Mabel went into the adjoining room, opened her little 
 writing-desk, and returned with a note in her hand. 
 "Charley," she said, smiling sweetly, "your mother 
 called this afternoon and left a note for you." She 
 handed it to him. 
 
 " My dear son: Mabel said you always speak of my 
 cooking, and suggested that I fry some potatoes for sup- 
 per to surprise you. I hope you will enjoy them. 
 
 "Your Affectionate Mother." 
 
 When he looked up and his eyes met hers, she was 
 laughing and he was looking very sheepish. 
 
 " Won't you have more potatoes, Charley, dear?" 
 " Yes," he replied; " I believe I will." 
 
 FIVE CENTS MORE. 
 Conductor {oa New York street-car) — "Well, I'll get 
 her in yet if the whole durn thing busts I"
 
 The Oce2in Liner of the Future 
 
 By Perrine Lambert 
 
 A FEW extracts taken at random from the informa- 
 * tion card of the new octuple-screw steamship De- 
 mentia: 
 
 " The chief of police and the superintendent of the 
 detective bureau have offices on the main deck of the 
 steamship. Complaints, if any, of robberies, lost jewels, 
 and general disturbances should be reported immediately. 
 A justice of the peace is constantly on hand for the 
 swearing out of warrants. Hearings are held every 
 morning before a duly authorized magistrate." 
 
 " The stock exchange is located in the main cabin, aft of 
 the dining-salon. The latest quotations from London, New 
 York and Paris are received 
 by ticker. Wireless telegraph 
 service is maintained between 
 the steamship and all impor- 
 tant commercial centres in the 
 United States and Europe." 
 
 " The attention of the pas- 
 sengers is called to the admi- 
 rably equipped department 
 store forward. The store runs 
 through seven decks, and con- 
 tains a large quantity of mer- 
 chandise of the highest quality. 
 The prices compare favorably 
 with those of English and 
 American shops." 
 
 " Achildren's circus is given 
 every afternoon on the quarter- 
 deck aft of the main salon. A 
 very pleasing entertainment is 
 presented, with trained dogs, 
 educated monkeys, cute little 
 ponies, and funny clowns as 
 the principal performers." 
 
 " Morning newspapers may 
 be purchased from the library 
 steward after seven a.m. 
 Newspapers of the country to 
 which the steamship is nearest 
 at the time of publication are 
 always on sale." 
 
 "Passengers who desire to 
 have their baggage moved to 
 various parts of the vessel will 
 find an agent of Modd's Express 
 in the office of the purser. 
 The automobile truck makes 
 daily trips." 
 
 " District messenger boys, 
 commonly called ' ocean grey- 
 hounds,' may be obtained any 
 hour of the day or night. The 
 messenger office is situated on 
 the hurricane deck." 
 
 " The promenade deck may 
 
 be engaged for baseball games, automobile races, balls, 
 dances, weddings, receptions, and parties in general." 
 
 " Carriage service is maintained at all times. Rates 
 for vehicle hire may be had on application. Apply to 
 the livery steward." 
 
 "Cut flowers, fresh from the steamship's own hot- 
 houses, may be obtained from the decoration steward." 
 
 "The skating-rink is open to passengers from ten 
 a. m. until nine-thirty p. m." 
 
 " Passengers desiring to leave the steamship in raid- 
 ocean must notify the purser at least three hours in ad- 
 vance of departure." 
 
 A SHAKESPERIAN TOUCH. 
 
 " 1 was going to say that 1 recognized her in spite of her disguise by her turned-up nose. But how 
 can one say '|She has a turned-up nose * and avoid such a commonplace expression ?" 
 *' Say * Her nose smells to heaven.' "
 
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 3 DD S
 
 The Division and Multiplication of Mrs. Irkhard 
 
 By Barr Moses 
 
 "O 
 
 H, DEAR!" sighed Mrs. Irkhard, as the door- 
 bell rang. ' ' I wish there were two of me. ' ' 
 She was making pies, and her hands 
 were covered with flour. Very reluctant- 
 ly she began to wipe them and to take off her apron. 
 Some of the pies were already in the oven. The doorbell 
 rang again. Perhaps the visitor would be some one who 
 would keep her too long, so that the pies would be burned. 
 
 " I declare I wish I were half a dozen!" she cried 
 aloud petulantly. 
 
 " Why don't you divide yourself, then?" asked a tiny 
 voice behind her. 
 
 Mrs. Irkhard turned about quickly, and there, on the 
 shelf which supported the kitchen clock, she saw a little 
 lady in a green dress, who sat with her brown-stockinged 
 ankles crossed, swinging her feet idly. 
 
 " What?" exclaimed Mrs. Irkhard, in amazement. 
 
 " Why don't you divide yourself, I said," replied the 
 little lady, smiling. 
 
 " But how can I?" asked Mrs. Irkhard, much puzzled 
 and feeling as if she were in a dream. 
 
 The doorbell rang again. The impatient caller was 
 evidently holding the button in this time. 
 
 "Divide and multiply yourself," said the lady in 
 green. " I'll show you how." 
 
 All at once she spread a pair of gauzy wings and 
 flitted down to the baking board. Mrs. Irkhard stood 
 and stared at her, bewildered. 
 
 " All you have to do," went on the little lady, " is to 
 stand still and say, 
 
 ' Twenty taters in a row. 
 This is how I make 'em grow; 
 Oyster fry and oyster stew, 
 I had rather be in two.' " 
 
 And then, quick as a wink, there were two little 
 ladies in green standing on the baking board. 
 
 "But," they went on, talking in concert, "if you 
 want to be in three, all you need to do is to say, instead 
 of the last two lines, 
 
 ' Chicken pie and fricassee, 
 I had rather be in three.' 
 
 CROSS-SECTION OF A BACHELORS HEART, SHOWING INDICATIONS 
 OF CHRONIC CUPIDITY.
 
 If you want to be in four, say, 
 
 ' Apple dumpling, apple core, 
 I had rather be in four. ' 
 
 F five, say, 
 
 ' The lobster green we boil alive, 
 I had rather be in five. ' 
 
 And for six, 
 
 ' Tender pickles and birch toothpicks, 
 I had rather be in six.' 
 
 And six is enough for any woman." 
 The doorbell rang again. 
 
 " ' Twenty taters in a row. 
 
 This is how I make 'em grow; 
 Oyster fry and oyster stew, 
 I had rather be in two!' " 
 
 cried Mrs. Irkhard, in desperation. 
 
 No sooner said than done. There she was, two of 
 her, standing side by side and just exactly alike; but 
 the little lady on the baking board had vanished. 
 
 With a sigh of relief one of her went on with the 
 baking, while the other hastily finished brushing the 
 flour from her hands and untying her apron. Then this 
 second half Mrs. Irkhard went to the front door to see 
 who was there. 
 
 When she came back again half an hour later and 
 found that her other self had finished with the first 
 batch of pies and had the second well on the way, she 
 was highly delighted. The two Mrs. Irkhards stood and 
 looked at each other and laughed heartily. 
 
 " Who was it?" asked the kitchen Mrs. Irkhard, after 
 a while. 
 
 hvi&lth^ 
 
 SUGGESTION FOR A LIGHTING ARRANGEMENT 
 THE ENTRANCE OF THE PANAMA CANAL. 
 
 WASTED MATERIAL. 
 " Speak louder, boy; I'm a little deal.' 
 " Gee, wet's de use of all dem ears !" 
 
 "That old gossip, Mrs. Green," answered the other 
 Mrs. Irkhard blithely. "Isn't it delightful, dear, that 
 we can say just what we think about folks to each other, 
 and no danger of its getting round to them again? I 
 think it's just fine !" 
 
 "So do I," said the kitchen Mrs. Irkhard. "And 
 just think of all the things I — er — I mean we — no, I 
 mean I — or, anyway, whichever it is — we some- 
 how sounds better — we can do ever so many 
 things now that we couldn't do before. Why, 
 we can join all the clubs and all of the societies, 
 and we can attend every meeting. We can go 
 to the theatre every evening, and at the same 
 time stay at home and take care of baby." 
 
 The other Mrs. Irkhard looked suddenly 
 an.xious. 
 
 "I wonder, dear," she said thoughtfully, 
 " you — you don't suppose it would make any 
 difference, do you ? There won't — won't be two 
 babies now, will there?" 
 
 " He's lying on my — our bed asleep. We'll 
 go and see," said the kitchen Mrs. Irkhard. 
 
 They tiptoed softly into the bedroom. 
 
 For a moment they gazed at the bed in con- 
 sternation. 
 
 "Oh, dear!" gasped one of them. "He's 
 twins!" 
 
 " Hush, dear! Don'twakehim — them," mur- 
 mured the other. " When we make ourselves one 
 again, baby '11 be one, too; and, of course, now, 
 if he is twins, there's two of us to take care of 
 him — them." 
 
 "Doesn't he — they look too sweet for any- 
 thing!" w'hispered the first. 
 
 They stooped down and kissed the sleeping 
 baby or babies, whichever you may cbooee to 
 
 AT
 
 ITS NAME BELIED IT. 
 Farmer Cornstalk — " Wa-al, I swan I I've bin watchin* ihet 
 newfangled contraption ter halt an hour an' blamed if the pesky thing 
 hes moved yit I " 
 
 think the right expression, and returned to the kitchen. 
 Then an animated conversation ensued, concerning the 
 number of different things which Mrs. Irkhard wished 
 to do. She discussed the matter with herself fully, and 
 came to the conclusion that to do all of the many things 
 which suggested themselves, it would be handier to be 
 as many as possible. The little lady in green had left 
 directions for dividing herself into six, but no more. 
 
 " Let's say the rhyme for six!" exclaimed one of the 
 two Mrs. Irkhards impulsively, at last. 
 
 " All right — let's!" agreed the other. 
 
 In coming to this decision Mrs. Irkhard seemed to 
 have forgotten about the baby. 
 
 The two of her stood off, facing each other, and re- 
 peated the verse in concert: 
 
 " ' Twenty taters in a row. 
 
 This is how I make 'em grow; 
 Tender pickles and birch toothpicks, 
 I had rather be in six.' " 
 
 And immediately each of the two Mrs. Irkhards be- 
 came six Mrs. Irkhards, so that there were twelve Mrs. 
 Irkhards in all. 
 
 " Oh, dear!" they shrieked, and burst out laughing. 
 " Do you suppose if we said it again we'd each change 
 into six more?" 
 
 And then, in answer to their own question, they re- 
 plied, " Let's try it." 
 
 Then they began again, with little squeals of merri- 
 ment: 
 
 " ' Twenty taters in a row. 
 
 This is how I make 'em grow; 
 Tender pickles and birch toothpicks, 
 I had rather be in six.' " 
 
 Then there was a jam which reminded Mrs. Irkhard 
 of bargain day. The kitchen was rather small for 
 Beventy-two of her. Some of her were already squeezed 
 
 out into the dining-room, and by common consent more 
 and more kept going until there was breathing room. 
 From the dining-room they penetrated to other parts of 
 the house. All at once a cry of horror arose from the 
 bedroom. As many of Mrs. Irkhard as could do so 
 crowded to the bedroom door. 
 
 The sight which met their eyes was a startling one. 
 The bed was covered with sleeping infants. So was the 
 floor. There were seventy-two of them, all exactly 
 alike. 
 
 The first Mrs. Irkhard snatched up the nearest babies 
 and passed them out to the other Mrs. Irkhards, until at 
 last they were all provided for and the bedroom was 
 empty. 
 
 Just for a moment Mrs. Irkhard in all of her person- 
 alities felt desperate. She suddenly remembered that 
 the little lady in green had left no directions, had taught 
 her no magic words, for reducing herself to one again. 
 But in numbers there is strength. Before long she 
 cheered up. She decided to spend the rest of the day in 
 a glorious reception for herself, in a sort of mothers' 
 congress. This enterprise turned out a great success. 
 Probably never in the history of the world have so many 
 ladies been gathered into one house who were so con- 
 genial to each other. Never have so many babies been 
 brought together without exciting a single spark of jeal- 
 ousy, envy, or ill-will in the hearts of their mothers. 
 Mrs. Irkhard found it necessary to send out for extra 
 provisions, and she realized dimly that if this thing kept 
 
 
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 MORE APPROPRIATE. 
 
 Miss Inland — " You certainly have a charming country-place here, and, of course, you have 
 given it some pretty name?" 
 
 Mr. Bondhohttr — " Oh, yes I Mrs. Bondholder calls it ' Idlemoment-by-the-Sea,' but 1 call 
 it by its right name, ' Moneysunk.' " 
 
 up she would naturally be the cause of a good deal of ex- 
 pense to her husband ; but she did not allow such, reflec- 
 tions to mar the hilarity of the occasion. 
 
 About five o'clock that afternoon Mr. Irkhard tele- 
 phoned that he would not be home to dinner and that 
 business would keep him late at the office. The Mrs. 
 Irkhard nearest the 'phone when it rang answered it. 
 She immediately communicated the news 
 to the rest of herself. She was inclined 
 to be suspicious in all of her collective 
 personality. She argued the matter 
 with herself and began to wonder what 
 John would say when he came home and 
 saw the division and multiplication 
 which had taken place in his household. 
 Would he understand? It did not seem 
 likely. 
 
 It was almost twelve o'clock when 
 John at last came. Seventy-one Mrs. 
 Irkhards shut themselves up in the two 
 parlors, while the seventy-second, who 
 happened to be nearest the door when 
 John's step was heard, awaited him in 
 the hall. She had the baby in her arms. 
 So had the others. He was awake now. 
 
 John came in. Mrs. Irkhard kissed 
 him impulsively. Her suspicions were 
 confirmed. 
 
 "John," she cried, "you've 
 been " 
 
 But she got no further. The rest 
 of the Mrs. Irkhards, hearing her voice 
 and noting its tone of reproach, could 
 wait no longer. Those nearest flung 
 the parlor door open. They streamed 
 out into the hall. They crowded about 
 their guilty spouse. 
 
 John staggered back against the 
 front door aghast. From where he 
 stood he could see into both parlors, 
 
 which, as well as the hall, 
 seemed thronged with reproachful 
 wives. There were seventy-two 
 of them, all exactly alike, and 
 each of them had a baby in hei 
 arms. The babies were exactly 
 alike, too. John would have sworn 
 to the identity of any given one 
 of them. Slowly he sank down 
 on the umbrella stand. 
 
 "A — a doctor!" he gasped 
 weakly. "A — a doctor — a — a 
 minister — I — I 've — I've got — it 
 — it's terrible! I'll never drink 
 another drop again! Oh, oh, oh!" 
 He passed his hand trembling- 
 ly over his perspiring brow. He 
 closed his eyes, opened them again, 
 closed them, and kept them closed. 
 Mrs. Irkhard had not antici- 
 pated anything of this kind. Her 
 anger was turned to sorrow and alarm. 
 
 " John, dear," she began, in seventy-two voices, and 
 tried to explain how it was — to make him understand 
 that he was not suffering any such hallucination as he 
 believed. But all their efforts were in vain. John not 
 only kept his eyes shut, but he stuffed his fingers into 
 his ears. 
 
 THE TWO LOVES. 
 
 Cigarette-spirit — " If thou truly lovest me as well as thou lovest that Kuman sweet- 
 heart ot thine, then kiss her, with my breath still upon your lips."
 
 « 
 
 A Definition. 
 
 ^lATHAT is the differ- 
 
 "THE DARK AGES." 
 
 Just at that moment the Mrs. Irkhards in the hall 
 were attracted by a green object which slid down the 
 banister. Then they saw that the little lady was sitting 
 nonchalantly on the edge of the moulding at the top of 
 the newel post. She held up her hand for silence. They 
 crowded as close as they could get, anxious and expect- 
 ant. 
 
 " Angel food and carrots red, 
 
 It is time to go to bed ; 
 
 Cracker, biscuit, cruller, bun, 
 
 I had rather be in one," 
 
 she said; then she vanished. 
 
 Anxiously, fervidly the seventy-two Mrs. Irkhards 
 chanted the verses in concert. 
 
 With a sigh of delight she found herself reduced to one. 
 
 "John," she whispered softly, kneeling at her hus- 
 band's side, "John, John!" 
 
 Slowly, hesitatingly he pulled his fingers out 
 of his ears. Slowly, hesitatingly he opened his 
 eyes. He gazed about him distractedly and rose 
 unsteadily to his feet. 
 
 " I— I don't feel well," he muttered. " I— I 
 had a kind of a dizzy spell. I felt so faint I had 
 to sit down for fear of falling. I've been work- 
 ing too hard — I've got to stop." 
 
 "Poor John!" murmured Mrs. Irkhard sym- 
 pathetically. 
 
 Mere Bagatelles. 
 
 ^HE Joneses are living in an automobile 
 now." 
 " What have they done with their furniture?" 
 " Got it with 'em. You know they had always 
 kept house in a Harlem flat." 
 
 ence between pre- 
 ferred and common 
 stock?" 
 
 " Well, if you buy the 
 common you lose your 
 money right off, but if you 
 buy preferred there is a 
 little longer delay about 
 it." 
 
 Bourbon Breath. 
 
 Georgia citizen — " Gun- 
 nel Bluecork says when the 
 South went dry, it took 
 his breath away." 
 
 Alabama citizen — "It 
 did, suh; and Gunnel Blue- 
 cork had been priding him- 
 self on that breath for the 
 past twenty years." 
 
 A Severe Sense. 
 
 Grateful mother—" Oh! 
 Are you the noble young 
 man who rescued my daughter from a watery grave?" 
 Noble young man (who is truly modest) — " Yes, mad- 
 am; but I assure you I only did it from a sense of 
 duty." 
 
 As to Toes. 
 
 OH, goodness knows 
 There's toes and toes! 
 There's pinky toes on baby's feet. 
 And mistletoes are very sweet. 
 The last I tried on yesternight 
 When Gladys stood there 'neath the light; 
 And as the smack resounded through 
 The house, oh, moment fraught with rue! 
 I found to'my complete surprise 
 Her father had a toe likewise. 
 
 HORACE DODD GASTIT. 
 
 «inpl 
 
 ^HERE'S many a slip 'twixt the editor and the 
 contributor. 
 
 A READY RECKONER. 
 Stranger — " What do you charge for a shave here ?" 
 Barber — "Ten cento a foot."
 
 Little Bobby Criticises. 
 
 I^HRISTMAS DAY was well along. Little Bobby 
 ^^ had gone the rounds of trial and inspection of the 
 many bounties the joyous time had brought him — edible, 
 playable, and literary. And now there seemed to be 
 scorn in his bearing. 
 
 " Pa," said he, " about this Little Jack Horner who 
 sat in a corner, eating a Christmas pie — huh! How 
 could he pull out a plum just with his thumb? He'd 
 have to use his finger, too, wouldn't he?" 
 
 "Why, I don't know, Bobby," replied Bobby's pa. 
 " Perhaps." 
 
 " And what kind o' pies is pies with plums in 'em, 
 I'd like to know?" continued little Bobby, incredulity 
 and scorn increasing. " Was it an egg plum he pulled 
 out, or just one of these little yellow ones?" 
 
 " Oh, I don't know, Bobby." 
 
 " What kind of a kid was he, anyhow, stickin' his 
 thumb in his pie? Guess if I'd stick my thumb in my 
 pie I'd get it whacked, wouldn't I, pa?" 
 
 " I think you would, Bobby." 
 
 " And what was he sittin' 'way off in a comer for? 
 Didn't his folks have any chairs, pa ? Or was 
 he hidin' 'cause he didn't want to give his little sister 
 any of his pie ?" 
 
 " Where's your 
 mother, Bobby? Go 
 ask her." 
 
 " Andhima-brag- 
 gin' about what a 
 brave boy he was, 
 just for pullin' a 
 plum out of a pie! 
 Rats! I wouldn't be 
 afraid to pull a doz- 
 en plums big as my 
 new drum out of 
 one, would I, pa?" 
 
 "No, no, Bobby' 
 You wouldn't. Now 
 run along and be a 
 real good boy." 
 
 Little Bobby said 
 he would, and he 
 went out and was 
 soon pelting the pass- 
 ers-by with hard 
 snowballs. 
 
 ED MOTT. 
 
 No Fault of the 
 Cook. 
 
 I^AfHILE visiting 
 " ' Chicago re- 
 cently, a New York 
 merchant dropped in- 
 to a restaurant fa- 
 mous for its German 
 cookery. 
 
 As the waiter was 
 ■erving the soup 
 I 
 
 THE URCHINS- VIEW OF A BOSTON DANCE. 
 
 " Goih, Bill I the has got a naked neck, and talking to a man I" 
 
 from a chafing dish, the guest thought he caught the 
 glint of steel. He gave little heed to the matter until 
 he suddenly found a large needle in his spoon. Sum- 
 moning the steward, he held aloft the offending bit of 
 steel, and inquired angrily, 
 
 " Do you expect me to eat that, sir?" 
 
 " Of course not! What was your order?" 
 
 "Noodle soup; but" • 
 
 "That explains it, sir," interrupted the steward. 
 " Just a typographical error, that's all." 
 
 Rubbery. 
 
 A FRUIT-CAKE which weighed just a lb. 
 Came to me as they passed it arb. 
 I accepted an oz., 
 And, to see if 'twould boz.. 
 Threw it down. It returned on rebb. 
 
 The Diagnosis. 
 
 /^LD Mother Confidence lay gasping for breath by the 
 ^■^ roadside. 
 
 "Ah, ha!" said the Liquor Dealer, with a savage 
 leer. " Too much prohibition." 
 
 " No, no! Too much rate regulation," said the Rail- 
 road Man. 
 
 "Not enough adulteration," said the Food Manu- 
 facturer. 
 
 " Not enough re- 
 bates and too many 
 fines, " said the Trust 
 Magnate. 
 
 " She ought to be 
 protected by a bigger 
 navy," said the Ad- 
 miral. 
 
 "Nothing the 
 matter with her at 
 all," said the Editor. 
 "Not enough 
 laws, "said the Pol- 
 itician. 
 
 " She needs a new 
 President, " said the 
 Partisan. 
 
 "Too much dope 
 and rascality," said 
 the Common Person, 
 who was growing in 
 wisdom as he grew 
 in years. 
 
 A Missed Oppor- 
 tunity. 
 
 fle — "Why did 
 you get so angry 
 when I kissed you 
 only once under the 
 mistletoe?" 
 
 She — " It seemed 
 to me you were a man 
 who would never take 
 full advantage of 
 your opportunities." 

 
 Modesty„ 
 
 A LADY lived within our town, 
 So 1 have heard it said, 
 Who, if you called her dress a gown. 
 Would blush like poppies red. 
 
 Her mind was neither frail nor weak, 
 
 Her modesty was rare; 
 Of autumn trees she'd never speak 
 
 Because their limbs were bare. 
 
 When night its sable shadows threw, 
 
 She'd tumble in a swoon 
 If curtains didn't hide from view 
 
 The man up in the moon. 
 
 A plumber caused her death one day — 
 
 Or so the story goes — 
 By asking, in a careless way. 
 
 To let him see her hose. c. v. cory. 
 
 The Valuables. 
 
 'l^HE MAN with a wife and seven children hauled up 
 in front of the hotel desk, registered, got his bell- 
 boy, and was starting off when the clerk, thinking maybe 
 he might jolly the new arrival, called to him. 
 
 " I beg your pardon," he said, " but hadn't you better 
 leave your valuables in the safe?" 
 
 " Do you think I ought to?" inquired the man inno- 
 cently enough, to hear him say it. 
 
 " Well, it is the best plan." 
 
 "All right," said the man; and turning to his wife, 
 
 REMINISCENT. 
 Bittij (oD his first trip) — " It wasn't such a bad old world aher all." 
 
 AN EDUCATIONAL EPIDEMIC. 
 Mother — " Where do you feel sick ?" 
 So?i — " On my way to school." 
 
 " Here, Mary, pass the children over to the gent behind 
 the counter. He'll look after them and give us a rest" 
 Whereupon the clerk apologized. 
 
 Serenade on Saint Valentine's Eve. 
 
 RE the twilight died away, 
 
 Cupid murmured o'er me, 
 " What thou dare not tell by day. 
 Night may whisper for thee!" 
 Sweet thy slumber, sweetheart mine, 
 
 I'd not cause thy waking. 
 If of one brief dream of thine 
 I but had the making! 
 
 Softly sleep, slumber deep; 
 God of dreams his vigil keep. 
 If, among his train, dream-laden, 
 Sweetest dream find sweetest maiden. 
 Swift a-wing, it would bring 
 Smiles to thee, a-slumbering! 
 
 Night draws round me like a shroud. 
 
 All the world's in hiding; 
 O'er me, through yon gloomy cloud. 
 
 Swift the moon is gliding. 
 If thou wake not, I entreat. 
 
 By yon star above thee. 
 That the dream-god tell thee, sweet. 
 
 Half of how I love thee ! 
 
 Softly sleep, slumber deep; 
 God of dreams his vigil keep. 
 Dream-stars, watching o'er thy slumber. 
 Sing of love in countless number. 
 Till their song, sweet and strong. 
 Lingers with thee, all day long! 
 
 Clouds have hid each gleaming star, 
 
 Darkness draws about me; 
 Darker, sadder, drearer far 
 
 Were my world without thee. 
 Lo! the last faint beams depart. 
 
 While my love lies dreaming; 
 Night is never in my heart 
 
 Where thy face is beaming. 
 
 Softly sleep, slumber deep; 
 
 God of dreams his vigil keep. 
 
 While the stars, that twinkle o'er thee. 
 
 Fading, fading out before thee. 
 
 Never shine, sweetheart mine. 
 
 Half so bright as eyes of thine ! 
 
 ! BUBOES JOHNSON.
 
 The Supply of Husbands for Actresses 
 
 QUITE a number of our prominent actresses are not 
 marrying again this year. Tliere iiaa been, of 
 course, a stringency in the money market, which 
 would naturally lead our roost conservative actresses to 
 curtail expenses. At the same time, after making all 
 due allowances for this, the theatrical season has been 
 fairly good and there seems no actual financial reason 
 for the falling off in matrimony, except the shortage in 
 the supply. 
 
 To be the husband of an actress requires a special 
 talent, and as, in every special field, good men are al- 
 ways scarce, there will always, of course, be more or 
 less anxiety in the search. Available material does not 
 grow on every lamp-post. Indeed, the best quality of 
 actresses' husbands have to be carefully nurtured before- 
 hand, and cultivated for their mission in life. Their 
 period of husbandship is comparatively short. Of course 
 one man possessed of a good constitution and a healthy 
 ambition may be the husband of several actresses. This 
 is counterbalanced, however, by the fact that every 
 actress is likely to require several husbands. The two 
 equalize each other. Actresses' husbands are like poets 
 — bom, not made. They possess also many of the char- 
 acteristics of poets. Their temperaments are variable. 
 They have high tempers, a certain (very necessary) 
 power of self ettar>ement, and a general incapacity 
 to support them- 
 selves. Many 
 of them take 
 minor stage 
 parts, which en- 
 ables them to 
 quarrel more 
 systematically 
 with their wives 
 between the 
 acts. 
 
 It is hoped 
 that the theatri- 
 cal trust, which 
 is coming more 
 and more to reg- 
 ulate salaries, 
 will not, by here- 
 after restricting 
 the pay of ac- 
 tresses, thus put 
 another barrier 
 in the way of 
 their getting 
 husbands. Every 
 actress ought to 
 be free to mar- 
 ry all the hus- 
 bands she de- 
 sires at any 
 time. Only in 
 
 By Thomas L. Masson 
 
 this way is our future secure. For, after all, our home 
 life is something. Its sacred and inviolable traditions 
 should be maintained at any price. 
 
 Petered Out. 
 
 OLD JOHNSON he was versatile. 
 Of that there ain't no doubt. 
 But somehow all the schemes he laid 
 And all the get-rich plans he made 
 Were destined for an early grave. 
 They petered out ! 
 
 Bill started in to build airships, 
 
 S. Duniont he would rout. 
 But soon he switched to motor-boats. 
 And next week took to raisin' goats. 
 Seems every new project he floats 
 
 Just peters out! 
 
 Bill final takes up readin' law, 
 
 To be a legal tout. 
 But in ten days he's keepin' bees. 
 In one more week it's dime musses. 
 Well, they all gets the same disease— 
 
 They peters out ! 
 
 Bill passes in his checks at last 
 
 (Appendicitis, cramps, and gout). 
 And murmurs, " Tell the folks that ask 
 That here is where I scores at last. 
 Unless, to crown me checkered past. 
 
 I'm Petered out!' 
 
 PAUL HANNA. 
 
 News Item. 
 A SCHOLAR 
 ** in lole 
 wrote to the ed- 
 itor of the lole 
 Intelligencer and 
 asked where 
 " cupriferous " 
 could be found. 
 The editor re- 
 plied that it 
 could be found 
 in the diction- 
 ary, under C. 
 
 Appropriate. 
 
 |N THE pres- 
 ent stringen- 
 cy of the times 
 there is fitness 
 in the recent ex- 
 clamation of an 
 old colored wom- 
 an — " God help 
 the rich ; the 
 poor can beg." 
 
 PRECAUTION. 
 Bride — " 1 dad two complete lists o( our wedding-gifts made 
 
 for me. 
 
 Friend- 
 Bride- 
 
 -one fof John and ooe 
 
 A company is 
 • known by 
 
 "What for?" 
 
 ' So we'll eadi know whom to ask next lime. 
 
 the 
 
 keeps. 
 
 it
 
 A Menu Prophecy 
 
 By Lurana W. Sheldon 
 
 LAST night I sought a table d'hote, and in a pensive 
 mood 
 Regarded somewhat curiously the nature of my 
 food. 
 Some sentiment, I know not what, with atavistic trend. 
 Had turned my thoughts to primal lives from which we 
 all descend. 
 
 CLAMS! Ah, what memories here awoke! What 
 strange emotions swelled ! 
 
 Was I not of aquatic birth? Monera, single celled? 
 
 No bivalve should my palate pass ! I scorned the lus- 
 cious dish ! 
 
 Nor MACKEREL, my one-time kin ; I could not eat a 
 FISH! 
 
 FLESH ! Worse and worse ! When in the prime of pre- 
 historic days 
 
 Was I not rated as a beast possessed of fleshly ways? 
 
 Bovine, perhaps, for all I knew, or porker of that age. 
 
 Could I devour ancestral lines? " Nay, nay!" I cried in 
 rage. 
 
 They brought a bird, a tiny thing; across my soul there 
 
 crept 
 The thought that once upon a time, I — here I own, I 
 
 wept. 
 I could not taste the tender flesh ; I only mourned my 
 
 fate 
 And cried, "What if in bygone days its grandma was 
 
 my mate?" 
 
 Distraught, the menu card I scanned ; my woe was sad to see. 
 Fish, flesh, and fowl the cuisine held — all kith and kin to me. 
 "Alas!" I sighed, "'twill not be long — we're swiftly hastening there- 
 They'll soon add Fricassee of Man unto the bill-of-f are. " 
 
 Free from Bad 
 Ones. 
 
 I^HE leading citizen 
 * of a small country 
 town escorted a friend 
 on a tour of inspection 
 through the village. 
 The friend, who was a 
 resident of a metropol- 
 itan city, was duly im- 
 pressed by the many ad- 
 vantages of the little 
 town. Finally the two 
 men reached the ceme- 
 tery. The visitor care- 
 fully looked at the va- 
 rious tributes and then 
 turned to his guide. 
 " Say, Dave, "he began, 
 " wh-wh-where do you 
 b-b-bury your s-s-sin- 
 ners?" 
 
 Jessica — " When the 
 judge asked you how old 
 you were, what did you 
 say?" 
 
 Margery — "I told 
 him if he were a good 
 judge he wouldn't ask." 
 
 The Usual Place. 
 
 stout party — " Say, 
 young fellow, do you 
 know where I could get 
 a hair-cut?" 
 
 Urchin — " Sure, 
 guv'nor — on yer head." 
 
 GOING SOME. 
 The tquirrel—" And yet tome people say that hops are not good (or the heakk.'
 
 H 
 
 THAT SPOILS IT. 
 
 * Don't you believe in love at first sight >" 
 
 "At first sight, yes; but sometimes you take aaother look," 
 
 A Sonnet to My Sonnet. 
 
 THE sonnets that I sometimes try to write, 
 When finished seem to me inane, or worse, 
 Yet, writing them, I tear my hair and curse. 
 Frown, even stomp, and lose my temper quite. 
 A bearing's worn, a cogwheel fits too tight. 
 
 Upon the rhyme-machine that fills my purse; 
 Or else I failed to turn some set-screw right 
 
 In changing gears to grind this style of verse. 
 
 I ofttimes think that their poetic feet 
 
 Have too high insteps, likewise bunions, corns. 
 Ingrowing nails, and chilblains; yet, I ween. 
 Each sonnet is as vague and incomplete 
 
 In thought, and quite as much a meaning scorns, 
 As those within the average magazine. 
 
 ROY FARRELL. GREENE. 
 
 The Deal Fell Through. 
 
 E HAD been drinking. That was very evident to the 
 woman who came to the door in answer to his ring. 
 Shay," he began, 
 
 " Thash her — thash old cat I want to get home for," 
 
 he whispered. " Shay, when " 
 
 The lady who wanted a feline, however, quickly closed 
 and locked the door, while her caller slunk down the 
 steps and was led away by the ear. a. b. lewis. 
 
 An Exciting Bout. 
 
 'l^HE contestants did not spar for an opening, but 
 rushed at each other and opened the slugging 
 match. " Bulldog Sharpie " swung his right on the nose 
 of " Piggie Dave " without any ceremony. His sledge- 
 hammer fist glanced off. " Piggie Dave " was quick as 
 a tigress, and planted a shoulder blow in " Sharpie's " 
 eye, clouding the optic considerably. " Sharpie " struck 
 for the body with his left, but missed, and " Piggie " 
 then landed one on his opponent's cheek, drawing the 
 first blood. 
 
 Both pugilists clinched and broke away in a minute's 
 time. "Bulldog Sharpie" was groggy and acted 
 queerly. He managed, however, to steer clear of 
 " Piggie's " knuckles. The latter finally became aggres- 
 sive. Rushing at " Bulldog Sharpie " jike a gigantic 
 locomotive, he was about to land a knockout when a 
 number of other congressmen sprang between the men 
 and separated them. The House, in the meanwhile, was 
 in an uproar of confusion. john h. mcneely. 
 
 As She Used To Every Morning. 
 
 'l^HE bereaved Mrs. O'Leary, with a neighbor, stood 
 sobbing over the coffin of her deceased husband. 
 
 "Oh, Mrs. Murphy!" she cried, " Oi can't belave 
 Pat's lyin' there dead. He's only ashlape." 
 
 " Shure, he do look loike he wor only ashlape," re- 
 turned her sympathizing friend. " Call to him, Mrs. 
 O'Leary — call to Pat jist as ye used to to wake him 
 iv'ry marnin'!" 
 
 Mrs. O'Leary dashed away her tears and called vehe- 
 mently, 
 
 " Git up, ye lazy baste, an' go out an' hunt fer a job !" 
 
 after looking up and down 
 the street nervously, "you 
 put advertisement (hie) 
 in paper shmorning?" 
 
 " I did," she replied. 
 
 " You shed you (hie) 
 would give good home to 
 cat." 
 
 " Yes; have you a cat 
 you wish to get rid of?" 
 
 " Besher life!" he re- 
 plied heartily. 
 
 She was about to ask 
 for further particulars 
 when a stockily built, 
 angry-looking woman 
 Stopped at the gate and 
 motioned to the man with 
 the remark, 
 
 "Jake, you drunken 
 fool, come down here to 
 me this minute!" 
 
 A PALTRY NINE IN 
 
 Dr. Duck — ■ Terrible news, Mr. Rabbit — terrible! 
 Mr. Rabbit — " Merciful heavens I only one I " 
 
 ALL. 
 
 Eight boys and only one giil 1"
 
 Mustache Musings. 
 
 YOU can tell the nationality 
 Of any man. By clothes? 
 Why, no; but simply by the style 
 Of hair beneath his nose. 
 
 The German count is known at once. 
 
 By his mustache? Gewiss ! 
 You notice how the thing is trained 
 T s. 
 
 o i 
 
 g h 
 
 row like t 
 
 In picking out an English lord 
 
 You'll never make a miss, 
 
 Because you know he wears his hair 
 
 his lip like 
 
 n t 
 
 o b 
 
 P » 
 
 U s. 
 
 The Frenchman is not picked because 
 
 He dresses like a sport, 
 But by his well-waxed black mustache, 
 That'sbushystraightandshort 
 
 To tell the woolly Westerner 
 
 Is simple quite, I wis; 
 For he's the man whose coarse mustache 
 
 Hangs care 
 
 lessly like 
 
 th is. p. p. PITZER. 
 
 A Natural Wall Street Preference. 
 
 CC ¥ DON'T see why Stocksandbonds insists on going 
 '* with Miss Goldust, when he could just as well 
 take up with Miss Gotrox. The latter comes from old 
 American stock." 
 
 J-n-vi*vrn 
 
 DEFINING IT. 
 
 Dennis — " Coin" t' shpead th' wake-end at Callahan's, are yez ? An' phwat do 
 yez call th' wake-end ? " 
 
 Terence — "Shure, thot's Saturday noight frum th' toime yez dhraw yure pay till th' 
 saloons close." 
 
 " That may be true," replied Mrs. Gunbusta smiling- 
 ly, "but he probably prefers Miss Goldust because she 
 comes from watered stock ; her ancestors were Baptists, 
 you know." 
 
 The Irishman's Retort. 
 
 AN Irishman was hurrying along past a ten-story 
 ' * building recently, when suddenly the falling body 
 
 of a man struck him from 
 above and knocked him to 
 the sidewalk. 
 
 "Phat did ye do thot 
 fer?" demanded the Irish- 
 man, rising painfully to 
 his feet. 
 
 " You saved my life!" 
 cried the other man in re- 
 turn, following the Irish- 
 man's example and scram- 
 bling to his feet. " I fell 
 out of that second-story 
 window up there, and you 
 broke my fall." 
 
 " Begorry !" retorted 
 the dazed Celt, " Oi hope 
 some day Oi'll fall down 
 on ye frum th' top av th' 
 buildin' an' break yure 
 neck!" 
 
 ANOTHER STRIKE. 
 
 Mrs. Clancy — "Phy are yez shtriking little Jimmy?" 
 Mr. Clancy — " Oi'm shtroiking him fer hoigher pay." 
 Mri Clancy — " Is it crazy yez be ? " 
 Mr. Clancy — " No. He don"t pay me enoof reshpid I" 
 
 Behind the Times. 
 
 First little girl — " Have 
 you been operated on yet?" 
 
 Second liUle girl — " No. 
 Mother says I am very 
 backward for my age."
 
 BOTH GUILTY. 
 
 Doris — " Mamma, why is your hair turning gray ?" 
 Mamma — " Because you are such a bad little girl sometimes. 
 Doris — " What a bad child you must have been, mamma I Grand- 
 ma's hail is almost white." 
 
 A PossibiUty. 
 
 «C VTES," proudly observed the Japanese official, " our 
 * latest naval statistics show that we now have 
 thirty first-class battleships." 
 
 "Ah, invincible Nippon!" exclaimed another states- 
 man of the land of the rising sun. " Still, it is hardly 
 accurate yet to include the American fleet. Some of 
 their vessels may be sunk." 
 
 Tricked of the Time. 
 
 A PHILADELPHIA lawyer, who spends most of his 
 *■ time at his country estate, employs a sturdy Irish 
 gardener, whose one desire in life is to live until 
 the banner of freedom is unfurled over Ireland. 
 
 One evening the lawyer strolled 
 through the grounds of his place and 
 stopped to have a chat with the gardener. 
 
 " Michael, do you know that while we 
 are here enjoying the beautiful twilight 
 it is dark midnight in Ireland?" he asked. 
 
 "Faith, an' Oi'm not surprised," re- 
 plied the gardener. "Ireland niver got 
 justice yit." 
 
 The Wrong One. 
 m^R. GUNSON took two cigars from 
 *'* his pocket, carefully selected one 
 and handed the other to his guest. 
 
 " Fine cigars," he remarked, striking 
 a match. " Two for a quarter." 
 
 The guest puffed a light into his 
 cigar and blew a cloud of smoke into the 
 air. 
 
 " Two for a quarter?" he asked. 
 
 " Yes," replied Mr. Gunson proudly. 
 " Sorry I didn't get the twenty-cent one!" remarked 
 the guest sadly. 
 
 Behind Her Fan. 
 
 NOW isn't it a pretty way, refusing me, ill-using me, 
 After many years of presents and attention to her 
 Fan? 
 She is now about excusing me, not choosing me, but los- 
 ing me. 
 To listen to a Briton, a titled Englishman. 
 Instead of sweetly cheering me. 
 Revering me, endearing me. 
 Sighing for me, dying for me. 
 
 Loving all she can, 
 She's actually sneering at me. 
 Jeering at me, peering at me, 
 Abusing me, ill-using me. 
 And all behind her Fan! 
 Pretty sort of treatment after paying for the Fan! 
 
 WALTER BEVEBLEY CRANE. 
 
 A Change in Address. 
 
 A SOLDIER of the great army of the unemployed 
 shuffied up to the roll-top desk and looked over. 
 
 " Say, are you de guy wot advertised for a man to 
 address envelopes?" he asked anxiously. 
 
 "I am," replied the man at the desk; "but if you 
 can't address envelopes any better than you addressed 
 me, you'll find the exit where you came in." 
 
 Pessimism in Church. 
 
 << UOW DID you like the sermon to-day?" 
 
 ** " Fairly well; but didn't you think the minister 
 
 struck a rather pessimistic note?" 
 
 " I hadn't observed it. The choir struck so many 
 
 that I overlooked the minister's." 
 
 Tough. 
 
 Frayed Fagin — " Here's a piece in de paper about a 
 feller wot's goin' ter swim from Philadelphia to New 
 York." 
 
 LAly field Toilnot — "Well, it's a tough git-away; but 
 yer can't hardly blame him if dat's de only way he could 
 manage it." 
 
 SUBURBAN LIFE IN AIVIERICA. 
 Mr. Countryhouse lakes a milk-punch.
 
 "My son," inquired the 
 preacher, " may I ask what were 
 the last words of your father ?" 
 
 "Sir, "was the reply, " father 
 never had any last words. Mother 
 was with him to the last." 
 
 J. M. Barnhart, Urbana, 111. 
 
 SAVED HER SEVERAL MILLIONS. 
 
 Gladys (simpering}^"What do you think, Jack ? I believe Count Bustedbroke is going to 
 propose! He told me yesterday that all he craved was just one kiss" 
 
 Jack (excitedly) — "Give it to him, by gad I — give it to him at once I Then thank your stars you 
 got off so cheaply." 
 
 SPEAKING THE TRUTH. 
 
 I^HE PARSON arrived unexpectedly to remain 
 for supper with a large colored family in 
 Kentucky. Immediately the cabin was in com- 
 motion, and mammy swept away the swarm of 
 little pickaninnies with a few well-timed warnings 
 and reminders as to table manners. When supper 
 was ready, the 'possum and " taters " were tempt- 
 ing, and little Susie watched with despairing eyes 
 the delectable viands diminish and fade away into 
 nothing ere her turn came. When the parson had 
 almost finished, mammy turned to Susie and said, 
 
 " Have some rao' 'possum, honey?" 
 
 A pair of indignant eyes iiashed. 
 
 '* Mo'! I ain't had some yet!" exploded Susie. 
 Kenneth E. Bowen, North Collins, N. Y. 
 
 THE BLOW NEVER TOUCHED HIM. 
 
 T\URING a heavy shower a man with a very wet 
 overcoat entered a Boston hotel to pay a 
 business call upstairs. Not wishing to take the 
 dripping coat with him, he hung it in the hall 
 and pinned this note to it: "This coat belongs to 
 a man who strikes a two-hundred-pound blow. 
 Back in ten minutes." 
 
 When he returned, hia overcoat was gone and 
 in its place was his note, with the addition: 
 " P. S. Taken by a man who walks ten miles an 
 hour. Won't be back at all." 
 
 Ben Feblowitz, Wellsville, N. Y. 
 
 FAITHFUL UNTIL THE LAST. 
 
 A MINISTER had been called in at the last 
 moment to preach the funeral sermon of a 
 man with whom he was entirely unacquainted. 
 Being at a loss as to how he should speak of the 
 deceased, he approached a member of the household, 
 with the hope of obtaining some suggestion. 
 
 I ITTLE FRED'S mother had 
 ^ company. One of the vis- 
 itors, an old friend whom she had 
 not seen since her marriage, asked 
 to see Fred. The mother went 
 out to bring the little fellow in. 
 
 Presently the sounds of a 
 scuffle in the next room were 
 heard, and the low tones of the 
 mother as though remonstrating 
 with the youngster. Then the 
 shrill voice of Master Fred was 
 heard. 
 
 " I don't care ; company or n<l 
 company, I won't have my face 
 washed with spit." 
 
 F. M. Wheelock, Corry, Pa. 
 
 A STAR ACHIEVEMENT. 
 
 Sooner Nott — " De best day's work 1 ever done in me life wuz de day I 
 got married." 
 
 Hoiuitt Waltz — " How wuz dat ?" 
 
 Sooner Nott — " I worked me fadder-in-law(erfivedoIlan ter pay de min- 
 ister an' hung up de miniatei."
 
 The Stuttering Sonneteer. 
 
 SOULFUL SONGS OP THE HUMBLE COUNTER-JUMPER 
 
 TO THE HAUGHTY SALESLADY. 
 
 By Sus-aua-Sam S. Sussus-Slinson. 
 
 LIGHT of my life, my pup-pup-precious one, 
 I bid you wuh-wuh-welcome to the store. 
 I watch you kuk-kuk-coming through the door, 
 And sus-sus-see the kuk-kuk-cash-boys run 
 To take your wraps. My day has just begun 
 When I can sus-sus-see my love once more, 
 And all my pent-up pup-pup-passion pour 
 In verses to my Ami-zuz-zuz-zon. 
 
 Last nun-nun-night I dud-dud-dreamed of you. 
 And in my dud-dud-dream I walked alone 
 
 Be-sus-sus-side the sea, and ere I knew 
 
 You came up through the wuh-wuh-waves, my own. 
 
 Like Aphro-dud-dud-dite, and you threw 
 
 Me kuk-kuk-kisses from your far-off throne. 
 
 The Mistle-pto. 
 pAPA, is this mistletoe poison?" 
 • "Yes, Johnny." 
 " If I eat a berry will it make me sick?" 
 "Yes, Johnny; it will." 
 " Well, what will I have?" 
 " You'll have mistle-ptomain poisoning, my son." 
 
 Impressionable. 
 
 OUCH little things had influence o'er him — 
 >^ His watch-chain held for him a wondrous charm. 
 And from his mantel in the morning dim 
 A nickel clock would fill him with alarm. 
 
 The Why of It. 
 
 « ^^HY," asked the weary-looking man of the chap 
 who had been talking an hour without saying 
 
 anything, " is a human being different from a suit-case?" 
 " I don't know," answered the gab artist. " Why?" 
 " Because, " continued the weary-looking man, with 
 
 « 
 
 ^ BfE, 'f\\jOf\iy\s ~ 
 
 AS TRUTHFUL AS USUAL. 
 Mrt. Hen—' Aren't tte twini just too cute. Mr. Owl ?" 
 BOr. Otuh-" ErHb }«. and ifae inuge oi thdr f rtber." 
 
 THE STANDARD IS TOO HIGH. 
 
 '.'. L'm" y?" "' '°"8^ '° ^ '''« on'y kid in the family." 
 Why? 
 
 " 'Cause pa goes around braggkg about me, and then, when com- 
 pany comes and 1 can t make good, 1 get a licking." 
 
 a meaning glance, " when there's nothing in it, it is 
 most easily shut up." 
 
 The Limit. 
 
 i* ¥ AM surprised you didn't pro. 
 
 * pose to Dottie before. You 
 know she has plenty of money even 
 if she is homely." 
 
 "My dear fellow, it isn't her 
 being homely I object to. I could 
 stand that, but she has such an 
 affectionate disposition." 
 
 Give and TaJce. 
 
 Lawyer (examining juror) — " Do 
 you understand the difference be- 
 tween character and reputation?" 
 
 Juror — " Reputation is the name 
 your neighbors give you ; character 
 is the one they take from you." 
 
 Brevity. 
 
 «<OAY, Tommy, you want to get 
 a piece sewed on to those 
 pants. They 're too short. ' ' 
 
 "Short nothin'I I got into 
 them too far — that's what's the 
 matter."
 
 TTJ^ 
 
 TLJL 
 
 CL 1 
 
 — 1 "« 
 
 < c 
 
 a: 5 
 
 ^ 1 
 
 I I 
 
 I 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 ■8
 
 "THE EGG SEEMS ALL RIGHT, BUT THE NEST 
 LOOKS MIGHTY UNCOMFORTABLE." 
 
 Beautiful Snow. 
 
 (Disrespectfully dedicated to the street-cleaning department.) 
 
 SNOW, snow, beautiful snow. 
 Lying in heaps on the ground below, 
 Blocking the gutters and car-tracks and street. 
 Caking and freezing and wetting our feet. 
 Oh, how we love you! We worship you so! 
 Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful snow! 
 
 Slush, slush, beautiful slush. 
 Charming consistency something like mush. 
 Splashing all over our pedal extremes. 
 Bringing us grip and most horrible dreams. 
 Oh, how we love your melodious " sqush "! 
 Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful slush! 
 
 Mud, mud, beautiful mud. 
 In mounds or in ridges or elegant pud- 
 Dies at the crossings where automobiles 
 Spatter you o'er us. How lovely it feels! 
 How' we adore you! And yet how we shud- 
 Der at you, beautiful, beautiful mud! 
 
 G. BAWLEY. 
 
 A Prolific Family. 
 
 'l^HE STORY is told around Denver that when Colonel 
 * Dick Mullins landed in France he didn't know one 
 French word from another. Indeed, he seemed to think 
 there wasn't any French language at all, and blithely 
 butted in with his questions in his own tongue, as though 
 that were universal. Sitting in his train at Havre he 
 saw a policeman near by, and, thinking he might be 
 some military notable, asked a Frenchman next to him 
 who it was. 
 
 " Gendarme," responded the polite Gaul, guessing at 
 the question from the colonel's nod. 
 
 At one or two other stations the same question 
 brought the same answer. In Paris one hurried through 
 the cafe where the colonel was sipping his coffee like a 
 true Parisian, and he asked the waiter who it was. 
 
 " Gendarme," replied the waiter, smiling at the rich 
 American. 
 
 Late at night, on his way to his hotel, the colonel 
 met one face to face. 
 
 " Ebccuse me," he said to the guardian of the peace; 
 " are you John Darm?" 
 
 The guardian caught the name well enough 
 
 to know the answer. 
 
 " Oui, oui, m'sieur, " he replied; "gend- 
 arme." 
 
 "I thought so," said the colonel; "and I 
 want to say to you," he added, tapping the 
 man on the breast in a friendly fashion, " that 
 the John Darm family seems to be about as 
 well represented in France as the John Smith 
 family is in America." 
 
 A Hard One. 
 
 ttlAAD," began Tommy, "haven't I been 
 *^ real good since I've been going to Sun- 
 day school?" 
 
 " Yes," answered dad. 
 " And you trust me now, don't you?" 
 "Yes, "said dad. 
 "Then," demanded Tommy, " what makes you keep 
 your box of cigars hid the same as ever?" 
 
 A Mnemonic Achievement. 
 
 Johnny — " Uncle Jim says he can recollect when the 
 public square here was all woods." 
 
 Jimmy — " Huh! Pa says he can remember 'way back 
 before Bryan began runnin' fer President." 
 
 At] the Grand Opera. 
 
 Inquisitive nephew — " Uncle, what's that hole in the 
 curtain for?" 
 
 Bored uncle — " Hush, child; that's put there so the 
 actors can see the show." 
 
 News Item. 
 
 'l^HE mustard in the hamlet of Spiici is indeed strong. 
 A man made a plaster of it, put it on his back, and 
 that night it drew his diamond stud into his body. Up 
 to the time of going to press the doctors are still probing 
 for it. 
 
 Heaven. 
 
 I ANST think what is heaven? 
 Is it where 
 There is no end to hymn and 
 
 prayer? 
 And Sunday school? 
 Is it a place 
 Of saintly grace 
 Prescribed and handed out by 
 rule? 
 
 Ah, no; each soul must have its 
 own. 
 What most it wishes that 
 shall be 
 The ultimate, supreme reward — 
 Its answer to eternity. 
 
 There all shall find their heart's desire; 
 
 Full measure to mankind shall come. 
 The good are there, the evil, too — 
 
 For heaven will be hell to some. 
 
 Vm-hlAM J. 1.A11FTOM.
 
 Mabel, the Modest Mucilage Maker. 
 
 A MELOW-DRAMA IN SEVERAL SPASMS. 
 
 GASPING with surprise, our heroine saw her lover, 
 Jack Walton, lying bound on the ground before 
 her. But it will be remembered that before Mabel 
 worked (for) Mazuma Marks, the mucilage magnate, 
 she was employed in a cigar factory. She had little 
 difficulty, therefore, in unraveling the ropes which bound 
 Jack. 
 
 "What, Mabel! you here!" he gasped, when he 
 caught sight of his fair rescuer. 
 
 " Yes, Jack, " she answered. " I have not worked in 
 a mucilage factory for nothin'. I will stick to you." 
 
 At that moment St. Hulbert de Marks, the son of 
 Mabel's former employer, and Jack's bitter enemy, 
 sneaked up behind her. 
 
 "Ha! 'tis Mabel, the modest mucilage maker!" he 
 cried and seized hold of her around the waist. But, as 
 Mabel said, she had not worked in a glue factory for 
 nothing. Springing up, she pasted St. Hulbert in the 
 face, and, with Jack, fled into the right. 
 
 {To be continued.') 
 
 Worked Both Ways. 
 
 •rf^l^HE country is starving for ten-thousand-dollar 
 * men!" shouted the high-browed lecturer. 
 " And a lot of thirteen-dollar men are [starving for 
 their country," echoed a United States soldier in our 
 island possessions as he inspected his rations. 
 
 Carried Too Big a One. 
 
 Benham — " The load of a full-grown elephant is two 
 tons." 
 
 Mrs. Benham — " I wish, when you go out nights, that 
 you would take a smaller elephant for your model." 
 
 Force of Habit 
 « /^LOSE shave, sir?" 
 
 ^^ No response. 
 
 " Would you prefer the windows closed?" 
 
 No response. 
 
 " Getting rather cold, eh?" 
 
 No response. 
 
 " Trim your mustache, sir?" 
 
 No response. 
 
 "Think Roosevelt will accept a third 
 term?" 
 
 No response. 
 
 " Bay rum?" 
 
 No response. 
 
 " Any news about the murder trial?" 
 
 No response. 
 
 Whereupon the country barber, who was 
 alone in his shop, took a seat greatly re- 
 freshed. 
 
 He had been shaving himself! 
 
 Poor Fellow. 
 
 flc— -"Did you know Brown's wife was treating him 
 like a dog?" 
 
 She—" Why, no! What does she do?" 
 
 He — " She does nothing but pet him all the time." 
 
 Already in Force 
 
 She — " There ought to be a heavy penalty imposed 
 upon every married man with half a dozen children." 
 He — " There is. He has to support them." 
 
 Only Kind. 
 
 Tommy — " Pa, what is a tug of war?" 
 Knicker — " One commanded by both the line and 
 staff." 
 
 Bespoke. 
 
 << OHE seems like a very reserved girl." 
 *^ " Yes — I wonder who for?" 
 
 WALTER PULITZER. 
 
 Curt, but True. 
 
 She — " I wonder where those clouds are 
 going?" 
 
 He — " They are going to thunder." 
 
 BACK AGAIN. 
 
 Lady that I took to dinner 
 
 Chatted with the chap who sat 
 
 Other side of her; the sinner 
 Quite monopolized her chat. 
 
 So I sat alone, alack! 
 
 Fearing I had got the sack. 
 
 Knowing, though, that I saw more 
 Of her than I'd seen before — 
 
 I was glad to see her back. B. J. 
 
 /^^^:^e^
 
 The Birth Column 
 
 Compfled from the rur&l weeklies. Some of them really were and the others might have been 
 
 By Terrell Love 
 
 OINCE the stork visited the home of Casper Rubber- 
 *^ man and left a bouncing baby girl, Cas has been 
 stepping with a very elastic tread. He can, however, 
 probably be caught on the rebound about three a. m. 
 
 Ike Stone says there are two little pebbles growing 
 on his beach this morning where only one grew before. 
 
 Sam Carter, the best poker-player in Big Horn, as 
 dealt a king and a queen last night. He affirms that 
 they are a good pair to draw to (o). 
 
 The chip-basket at Ira Block's is full. The last chip 
 off the old block weighed twelve pounds. 
 
 Born to the wife of Jack Quail, Thursday the 8th, 
 triplets — a fine covey. Jack is so swelled up he has for- 
 gotten his gun-shy bachelor days 
 
 The many friends of Mr. Ote Wheat and wife (for- 
 merly Miss Meadows, of Coshocton) are congratulating 
 them upon a successful harvest. Sweet Clover and 
 Timothy 0., the eight-pound girl and the nine-pound boy 
 who filled their hearts and the family cradle to overflow- 
 ing, are doing well. May the chinch-bugs never get them ! 
 
 Greenleaf Wood had a little splinter in his hand this 
 morning when wc called at the back door to borrow some 
 eggs for breakfast, but he didn't seem to be in pain, so 
 we refrained from offering to pick it out. It is the kind 
 that will wear curl papers and a mother hubbard when 
 it grows up. 
 
 Henry Wilson and wife, Monday morning, triplets. 
 Wanted, a fresh cow. 
 
 HUNGRY HANK SCORES A VICTORY. 
 
 
 ^. 

 
 
 
 Ha 
 
 O <« 
 
 u 
 
 < .s 
 J 
 
 a. 
 
 •a 

 
 Smithkins's Automatic Baby Tender 
 
 By Arthur William Beer 
 
 "D 
 
 RAT it!" exclaimed Mrs. Brown, as a buggy 
 drawn by a raw-boned, hammer-headed 
 equine was halted in front of the farm- 
 house. "There's another of them pesky 
 machine agents!" Then, observing that the occupant 
 of the buggy was in the act of unpadding something 
 which stood in the rear of the vehicle, swathed in a 
 white cloth, she went to the door and shouted, 
 
 " You needn't to go to all that trouble. I've got a 
 good enough sewing machine now, and if it's washing 
 machines or patent churns or such like, I don't want 
 em. 
 
 The man smiled wanly, but proceeded with his work 
 of unpacking, and - 
 
 a few seconds i — 
 later clambered 
 up the front steps, 
 struggling under 
 the load of a most 
 curiously con- 
 trived machine, 
 which he careful- 
 ly, and with an 
 air of loving 
 pride, deposited 
 on the front porch. 
 " Madam," he 
 said, when he had 
 somewhat recov- 
 ered his breath, 
 " I am told that 
 you have a baby 
 in the house." 
 
 "Well, of all 
 the impudence!" 
 exclaimed Mrs. 
 Brown indignant- 
 
 "No offense 
 intended, madam, 
 I assure you," 
 said the agent. 
 "You will pres- 
 ently catch the 
 import of my 
 words." Then, 
 clearing his 
 throat, he pro- 
 ceeded : 
 
 " From c re- 
 ation'sdawn man- 
 kind was by cruel 
 fate bound hand 
 and foot to the 
 
 8 
 
 TWO PICTURES FOR THE PRICE OF ONE. 
 '■ V Bill's scheme of posing on the edge of a small pond with his machine isn't a half bad idea. 
 
 iron wheel of labor, until, in comparatively recent years, 
 the deft hand of science released him and at last afforded 
 him that long-denied and glorious opportunity of " — — 
 
 Mrs. Brown, with an impatient gesture, checked the 
 speaker in his impassioned flight. 
 
 " That's all very interesting," she said, " and sounds 
 most as good as the orating down at the Four Corners' 
 school closing t'other day; but I'm too all-fired busy 
 
 to" 
 
 " Busy!" eagerly broke in the agent. " That's just 
 it. That's the very point I am trying to make. I see 
 you are a practical v/oman, and I'll dispense with my 
 usual introductory remarks." Then, pointing to the 
 
 machine at his 
 side, he said im- 
 pressively, 
 
 " Madam, you 
 see before you 
 science's greatest 
 boon to tired 
 womankind- — 
 ' Smithkins's Pat- 
 e n t Automatic 
 Baby Tender,' 
 sold on the easy- 
 payment plan, and 
 fully warranted 
 for ten years." 
 
 " Smithkins 'a 
 what!" gasped 
 Mrs. Brown. 
 
 "Just as I 
 say, ' ' returned the 
 agent. " Let me 
 explain its work- 
 ings. It's a mar- 
 vel of simplici- 
 ty." 
 
 " It looks it," 
 said Mrs. Brown, 
 as she glanced 
 scornfully at the 
 fantastic contri- 
 vance. 
 
 " Madam," re- 
 plied the agent, 
 "once you possess 
 one of these won- 
 derful machines 
 your troubles are 
 at an end. Say 
 that you put baby 
 in his crib to 
 sleep. Ten to one
 
 PAPA TEACHES MAMMA TO SKATE— A HOLD-UP ON THE ICE. 
 
 " Now, skate, Mary I and don't you dare to fall !" 
 
 he wakes up before you are ready to take care of him, 
 and he's just got to be amused. Now suppose you have 
 one of these machines. When you put baby down you 
 simply place it in position at the side of his crib, taking 
 care to see that the receiving disks of the sound motors 
 are correctly placed " 
 
 " The sound motors!" exclaimed Mrs. Brown. 
 
 "Yes; that's the beautiful part of the invention. 
 You see," explained the agent, " when baby wakes, the 
 first thing he does is to cry, though perhaps not very 
 loud at the beginning. Now observe what happens. The 
 sound waves strike the proper receiving disk and set in 
 motion the delicate mechanism. This arm here raises 
 and lowers the wheel you see here into position within 
 easy reach of the child. The wheel, as you see, is pro- 
 vided at regular intervals with spring clasps, in which 
 objects are easily placed and as easily removed. We 
 furnish free with each outfit a set of articles, such as 
 rattles, teething rings, rubber dolls, and the like, which 
 may be placed in the wheel. Now, when low- 
 ered into position, the wheel begins to revolve 
 slowly. Sometimes its mere revolving will be 
 sufficient to amuse and quiet baby, or as he 
 sees fit he may grab from the wheel the play- 
 thing that pleases him. So soon as he removes 
 anything, however, a lever is released, which 
 raises the wheel and swings it back into its 
 old position out of harm's way. Should baby 
 cry for it again, it will return automatically." 
 
 "Marvelous!" cried Mrs. Brown. "But 
 what's that crab net for?" pointing to a small 
 hammock which was suspended from a metal 
 bracket. 
 
 " Ah, that," said the agent enthusiastically, 
 " that is one of the features of the most im- 
 portant part of the whole arrangement ! Now 
 suppose the revolving wheel fails to amuse 
 baby or he grows tired of playing with the 
 
 toys. His cries will naturally in- 
 crease in volume. As soon as his 
 crying reaches a certain pitch, this 
 second sound motor sets in opera- 
 tion the machinery you see here," 
 and the agent unlimbered a set of 
 what looked like rubber-covered 
 grab-hooks attached to a kind of 
 crane. " This carrying arm reaches 
 down in the crib, carefully picks 
 up baby, and deposits him in the 
 little hammock. The latter, you 
 observe, is swung on our new pat- 
 ent, self-adjusting, swivel rockers, 
 and as soon as baby is safely landed 
 it begins to sway back and forth. 
 At the same time a phonograph, 
 which hitherto has been concealed 
 at the base of the machine, is ex- 
 posed to view and commences to 
 get in its soothing work. We fur- 
 nish you a set of records, consist- 
 ing of lullabies, nursery jingles, 
 
 and baby talk. The latter are particularly effective. 
 
 For instance, we have one record that runs something 
 
 like this: 
 
 'Oose itty bitty tootsy wootsy is oose? 
 Oose is momsey's itty bitty tootsy wootsy; 
 ess, oose is,' 
 
 and so on. If preferred, of course, records reproducing 
 the exact tones of the mother can be used, with almost 
 miraculous effect. 
 
 " Now, if you will kindly fill out this blank, I 
 will" 
 
 " Hold on a moment!" cried Mrs. Brown. " Hold on! 
 Your machine is no doubt all that you claim, but can it 
 always be depended on to work, and aren't accidents 
 likely to happen sometimes?" 
 
 " Madam," replied the agent, " this machine possesses 
 something that is above human intelligence. A mere 
 human being may make mistakes, but this machine 
 works automatically and unerringly. I won't attempt 
 
 FITTING DESIGN FOR THE AUTO ROAD-HOG. 
 
 Approved by the farmers in general.
 
 MASONS, TAKE NOTICE. 
 "An accident on the square." 
 
 to deny that there haven't been a few mishaps, but the 
 proportion is very small, very small indeed. I placed 
 one of the machines a few months ago with Mrs. Atkins 
 over at Piketown. She said it worked fairly well a time 
 or two, but that one day she came in and found the baby 
 suspended in air by the automatic carrying arm, and 
 that he was almost exhausted from squalling so much." 
 
 " Oh! was he?" said Mrs. Brown. 
 
 " Yes," he went on, ignoring the note of sarcasm in 
 her voice, " but the explanation of the matter is really 
 very simple, very simple indeed. He had raised a cry 
 which was sufficient in volume to start the mechanism, 
 but not heavy enough to set the sound motor going at its 
 full capacity. The result was that the baby was picked 
 up and carried part way to the hammock, and then the 
 machinery was checked, leaving baby in midair, as it 
 were. I explained it all in detail to Mrs. Atkins, but 
 she was most unreasonable about it, most unreasonable." 
 
 " Didn't seem to appreciate the wonders o' science, 
 eh?" commented Mrs. Brown. 
 
 " Not in the least. Tlien there was Mrs. Blinks up 
 at Pine Gap. Sh-j tried one of the baby tenders. It 
 seems she came in one day and found her baby girl in 
 the hammock, almost black in the face and gasping for 
 breath. Now what had happened was no fault of the 
 machine. It seems that baby had crawled down in her 
 crib, so that instead of being picked up properly some- 
 where abou'c the waist line, she was caught up by the 
 neck and cr.rried in that manner to the hammock. She 
 was not really seriously injured, but you'd be surprised 
 at the unladylike way in which Mrs. Blinks has acted. 
 Talks of bringing suit for damages, and all that." 
 
 " Oh ': she does, does she?" sniffed Mrs. Brown. 
 
 " Yes, some women are so unreasonable," said the 
 agent. 
 
 " There have been some instances, too," he continued, 
 " where babies, in their exuberance of spirits, have be- 
 come rather badly tangled up in the revolving wheel, 
 and, in a few cases I recall, the jaws of the carrying 
 arm have failed to connect properly and baby has been 
 allowed to fall ; but this so rarely happens that it's really 
 notwoj-th considering." 
 
 " Not worth considering, eh?" snorted Mrs. Brown. 
 
 " I mean from a practical point of view," returned 
 the agent hastily. "What, may I ask you, are a few 
 insignificant mishaps in the interests of science? Look 
 at the great number of people killed and injured by rail- 
 way trains, for example. Does that make it any the less 
 true that the railroad is one of the greatest blessings of 
 civilization? Why, everywhere we are prone to accident 
 and surrounded by unknown perils. Even amidst such 
 peaceful surroundings as these," he continued, casting 
 a comprehensive glance over the rural landscape, " may 
 not danger lurk unseen, and " 
 
 " You're right as to that," interrupted Mrs. Brown. 
 Then she gave a low whistle, at the sound of which an 
 immense, shaggy dog of nondescript breed, who hitherto 
 had been snoozing peacefully under the shade of a cur- 
 rant bush in the dooryard, rose to his feet, wagged his 
 tail slowly, opened a pair of massive jaws to their full 
 extent and then let them close with a snap, after which 
 he stood awaiting orders, with a look on his face as if 
 he would say, 
 
 " Well, this is a mighty warm day to be bothered 
 with business, but if you have any one that needs chew- 
 ing up, \'m right on the job." 
 
 "There," said Mrs. Brown, "is my automatic, 
 double-action, nuisance ejector. He also, you see, oper- 
 ates by sound waves. A whistle has brought him to the 
 position you now see him in. A couple of magic words 
 which I shall presently say will set him further in mo- 
 tion, and," she added significantly, " I'll say right now 
 that his jaws never fail to connect properly. Now I'll 
 give you a fair start, and then " 
 
 But without waiting to hear more the agent gathered 
 up his machine and beat an undignified retreat in the 
 
 THE MARINE S. P. C. A.
 
 direction of the bug- 
 gy- 
 
 The dog looked in- 
 quiringly at Mrs. 
 Brown. 
 
 "That'll be all 
 right, Tige, " remark- 
 ed his mistress sooth- 
 ingly. " I guess he'll 
 meet his finish soon 
 enough, and we don't 
 want his blood on our 
 hands." 
 
 Whereupon Tige 
 once more resumed 
 his slumbers, and Mrs. 
 Brown re-entered the 
 house to take up her 
 daily tasks at the 
 point where she had 
 been obliged to lay 
 them down. 
 
 Our Workers' 
 Page. 
 
 (From the " Successful 
 Magrazine.") 
 
 CAREFUL re- 
 search discloses 
 the interesting 
 fact that all of the 
 great men of to-day 
 began their careers a3 
 young men. Is that 
 not a wonderful thing! 
 What encouragement 
 can be distilled from 
 
 it for the youth of to-day — the great men of to- 
 morrow ! 
 
 Many of the present great men, we also find, who 
 came from the farm and the back country, had a habit 
 of taking their baths on Saturday night. This is pe- 
 culiarly interesting and may have a great deal to do 
 with their careers. All ambitious youths might emulate 
 their examples in this respect. 
 
 Some great men started in as office-boys, others as 
 errand-boys, and still others had their money left to 
 them. The point, though, is that all learned the value 
 of money at an early age. This is something the youth 
 of to-day should also do. It can be truthfully said that 
 the young person who would be willing to give two 
 dimes for a nickel instead of vice versa, starts out in 
 life with something of a handicap. 
 
 But the youth of to-day have an advantage over the 
 former generation in one thing — they have " Our Work- 
 ers' Page." By perusing this page carefully each week, 
 any bright young man should be able to go out and turn 
 over a considerable sum of money each week. Tell your 
 friends about the page, and be sure and buy next week's 
 paper, with more hints for the ambitious. 
 
 HONEST ALL AROUND. 
 "Annie, do you .f^aW the baby's bottles every time.'" 
 Annie (earnestly) — "Indade, an' Oi do, ma'am, jist loike ye told me 
 Oi wouldn't desave ye. Oi'm jist th' same behoind as Oi am befure, " 
 
 ter Shufflem, that you have 
 valuable lesson." 
 
 Atonement. 
 
 t« OISTER SHUF- 
 ^^ FLEM," says 
 the deacon's wife, 
 ' ' I am pained to 
 hear that your hus- 
 band played poker the 
 other night and won a 
 sum of money, and 
 that you encouraged 
 him in his wickedness 
 by accepting his win- 
 nings from him. I 
 have called to speak 
 to you about it, and 
 to reason with you as 
 to"— 
 
 " Wait a minute. 
 Sister Cantby," inter- 
 rupts Mrs. Shufflem. 
 " It is true that John 
 Henry went and played 
 poker and won twenty 
 dollars and forty cents, 
 and that I took the 
 money he won, but I 
 did it to teach him a 
 lesson. I wouldn't al- 
 low a husband of mine 
 to keep such ill-gotten 
 gains. And I have 
 spent the money for 
 prizes for the bridge 
 party I am going to 
 give this week. You'll 
 be here, won't you?" 
 
 " Indeed I shall, of 
 course. I'm glad, Sis- 
 taught your husband such a 
 
 Witness - 
 Wilkins." 
 Lawyer- 
 
 Whole Truth. 
 
 I saw a man with 
 
 one eye named 
 
 What was the name of the other eye?' 
 
 LIVING ON THE REST OF HIS 
 FAMILY.
 
 HER name was Josephine — 
 A country lass and sweet. 
 And innocent and beautiful 
 As any you might meet. 
 
 1 courted her, of course. 
 
 Why should 1 not ? Should one, 
 lo rural districts, when he sees 
 
 A maid, turn round and run ? 
 
 ONE KIND OF AFFINITY. 
 
 I asked her to be mine 
 Forever and for aye. 
 
 She shook her pretty head in grief 
 And sadly murmured, " Nay. 
 
 " I am bespoke, fair sir," 
 
 She said; "but 1 might be. 
 
 Quite in the proper way, of course. 
 Your J<Mq>hine-ity."
 
 jiirij'«6 
 
 IN THE WRONG COACH. 
 Casey (who had bought a berth in the sleeper) — 
 ' How th' mischief do they expict a mon to stretch 
 out an' take a good noight's rist in wan av thim 
 things?" 
 
 The Work. 
 
 (i ONAP!" went the cables, 
 
 >3 " Crack !" went the chains; 
 
 Down dropped the scaffolds, 
 Down broke the cranes. 
 
 Big Tim, the foreman. 
 
 Swore like a Turk: 
 
 " Hold hard, ye lubbers! 
 
 Stand by the work ! 
 
 " Stand by the work ! 
 
 Sure, there's nothing to fear for. 
 Stand by the work ! 
 
 What are tackle and gear for? 
 Stand by the work ! 
 
 Ah-h, what else are ye here for ? 
 Stand by the work !" 
 
 Up go your bubbles, 
 
 Down go your schemes; 
 "Crash!" fall your castles, 
 " Puff!" go your dreams. 
 Kin may desert you; 
 
 Friends only shirk. 
 Stamp on your trouble ! 
 Stand by the work ! 
 
 Stand by the work ! 
 
 There's no manhood in crying. 
 Stand by the work ! 
 
 There's no profit in dying. 
 Stand by the work ! 
 
 All disaster defying. 
 Stand by the work ! 
 
 ARTHUR GUITERMAN. 
 
 Was It Sold? 
 
 I^AVE HIGGINS, an honest Canadian far- 
 ^^ mer, advertised his cow for sale as 
 follows : 
 
 " Owing to ill health, I will sell at my 
 
 residence in township 23, range 13, according to the government 
 survey, one raspberry-plush cow, eight years old. 
 
 " She is a good milker and not afraid of motor-cars or anything 
 else. 
 
 " She has undaunted courage and gives milk frequently. To a 
 man who does not fear death in any form she would be a great boon. 
 She is very much attached to her home at present, by means of 
 a twenty-foot log chain, but she will be sold to any one who will 
 use her right. 
 
 " She is one-fourth shorthorn and three-fourths hyene. 
 
 " I will also throw in a double-barrel shotgun, as it goes with 
 her. 
 
 " In May she generally goes away for a week or two, and returns 
 with a tall, red calf with wabbly legs." 
 
 Modern Complications. 
 
 ¥T IS pretty hard for a girl to tell whether it is better to be so 
 polite as to pretend that she is not shocked when she is, or so 
 refined as to pretend she is shocked when she isn't. 
 
 There is also the complicated case of the man who won't work 
 at all unless he is praised for it, and when he is praised for it be- 
 comes too chesty to work. 
 
 WT WAS rush hour in the subway. Martin Luther hung wearily 
 from a strap. " Here stand I," he said. " God help me, I can 
 do no otherwise. " 
 
 SUBMARINE SADNESS. 
 Diver— "Well, if that ain't hard luck! Find a bottle of whiskey when 
 I can't get it to my mouth without drownin'!"
 
 - On Motion of the 
 
 House. 
 A SOUTHERN politi- 
 * cian tells the follow- 
 ing anecdote in connection 
 with a slight earthquake 
 that visited m»ny cities of 
 the Gulf States some years 
 ago. The shaking of the 
 earth was distinctly felt 
 all over the State, but es- 
 pecially in. the State capi- 
 tol. The Legislature was 
 in session at the time, and 
 nearly every member there- 
 of ran out of the building 
 when the structure began 
 to evince a disposition to 
 turn itself over. Of course 
 there was an end to legis- 
 lative proceedings for that 
 day. When the body had 
 
 reconvened, it was found that some member of a grimly 
 humorous turn had made an entry on the journal of the 
 Legislature in these words: "On motion of the house, 
 the Legislature adjourned." 
 
 Murray Hill — " Do you know how to cure a ham?" 
 East Side — " What's wrong with him?" 
 
 THE FOOD OF LOVE. 
 Maggie — " It wuz de swellest dance I ever attended." 
 Katie — " An' de music ? " 
 Maggie — " Soulful I Dey had a phonergralt most ez big ez dat barrel." 
 
 ?IVlrV Exactly. 
 
 ¥ ITTLE Mrs. Hunter had heard so many jokes about 
 ^ the brides who couldn't market successfully that 
 she made up her mind that the first request she made of 
 the marketman would show her to be a sophisticated 
 housewife. " Send me, please," she said, " two French 
 chops and one hundred green peas." 
 
 ENTHUSIASTS. 
 "Gee, Billy! look at the gold nuggets lying there!" 
 *' Can't help it. We've just jot enough gasoline to last us to the Yukoa."
 
 He Spread Himself 
 
 By Charles C. Mullin 
 
 4( l^jf "^ FATHER waa a burglar," imparted the 
 XtA house thief to his companion, as they lei- 
 surely went about ransacking the house they 
 had entered and fou.id " ripe." " But he was different 
 from the ordinary run of that craft — he was so terribly 
 ambitious! In fact, it was his nervous desire to go 
 ahead and clean up a job that abruptly ended his promis- 
 ing career as a high burglar." 
 
 "How was that?" asked the companion, scraping 
 some spoons together on a sheet. 
 
 " Well, it was this way. One night, all alone (father 
 wanted all the glory and swag there might be in a job), 
 he slunk out of the house in his gummed shoes and hur- 
 ried straight to the town bank. Once inside, he drew 
 forth his dynamite, mufflers, and tools, and set to work 
 drilling into the vault. Father always made a hole big- 
 ger than suited the ordinary cracksman, so he drilled a 
 regular cave and filled it with ten times the ordinary 
 bulk of dynamite. Then he applied the mufflers, attached 
 his fuse, lit it, and sprung back into a distant corner of 
 the bank to wait. 
 
 " After crouching there for what his nervous tem- 
 perament judged to be sufficient time and nothing doing, 
 father began to curse that fuse for being a dead one. 
 He crawled back toward the loaded vault door, and had 
 nearly reached it, when the charge went off — What's 
 the matter?" 
 
 " I thought I heard a door creak below." 
 
 " That's the wind. Well, the result of that explosion 
 was more sweeping than father had calculated," resumed 
 the narrator, flopping a bureau drawer on to the floor 
 downside up. " For the jar tore that vault door from 
 its casing and sent it crashing through the street wall. 
 This alarmed the watchman, who rushed away for the 
 police. The police, in turn, rushed into the. bank, and at 
 a glance saw that it was a wreck. Father, you see, 
 hadn't had a chance t~) escape — he was still in the 
 bank. Of course the cops got him. It was his last 
 job." 
 
 " Couldn't he find a hiding-place till they'd gone?" 
 
 "Yes; but, as I said before, father was different 
 from the ordinary craft. Where one might be satisfied 
 with huddling under a partially collapsed wall, or 
 
 A LENTEN UTANY FOR LADIES. 
 
 OH, thou, whom I approach with fear and trem- 
 bling; 
 Thou, from whom no secret can be hid; 
 Thou, before whom naught remaineth concealed ; 
 Thou, who never errest; 
 Thou, the repository of established truth; 
 Thou, the reflector of knowledge supreme and absolute; 
 Thou, in whose presence dissimulation is vain; 
 Thou, that never failcst to render perfect justice; 
 Thou, before whom I would cover up my face. 
 Oh, pity my despair! 
 Look leniently upon mel 
 Cast not my faults back at me! 
 Reproach me not with my blemishesi 
 
 squeezing himself through the hole torn into the heating 
 apparatus, or even winding himself up in the twisted and 
 pliant cashier's cage, father was different." 
 
 " Where did they get him, then?" 
 
 " In all three places." 
 
 J 
 
 AU in Sight. 
 
 ACK SPRATT could eat no fat, 
 His wife could eat no lean. 
 
 But when invited out to dine 
 They gobbled all they seen. 
 
 Agony. 
 
 First bridge player — " What made Mrs. de Fitt act 
 so strangely during that last hand?" 
 
 Second bridge player — " She had the ace up her sleeve 
 and couldn't get it out!" 
 
 ^-~jJL^/-A 
 
 Neither hold them up unto my sightl 
 
 Spare me from utter shame! 
 
 Accuse me not too hardly! 
 
 Let not my condemnation be worse than I can bear I 
 
 Obliterate the hideousness of my defects! 
 
 Remember not the past, 
 
 And show mercy toward me, I beseech thee, 
 
 Oh, my mirror! Lionel strachbt.
 
 THE COXCOMB. 
 ** Goah ! I'd like to see the bird that wean that comb." 
 
 Ade's Plagiarism. 
 
 A CERTAIN critic, who was continually looking for evidences of 
 plagiarism, met George Ade shortly after the production of the 
 first Ade play. 
 
 "It's a great memory you have, old man," said the critic. "Your 
 play is simply a repetition of parts of half a dozen other plays. How- 
 ever, I congratulate you on the skill witfh which you have patched the 
 stolen parts together." 
 
 So it was with everything that was done by Ade — or, for that matter, 
 by anybody else. The critic was always ready to name the old plays from 
 which every new one had, in his opinion, been stolen. After the pro- 
 duction of " The College Widow," in which the son of one of the chief 
 patrons of a Baptist college falls in love with the daughter of the presi- 
 dent of a Presbyterian college — there being great rivalry between the 
 two institutions — Ade met the critic, and, feeling that there was a 
 chance at last to confound him, said, 
 
 " Well, I hope you'll concede now that I'm capable of doing something 
 original. You haven't found any evidences of plagiarism in this play, 
 have you?" 
 
 "Huh!" replied the critic. "Worse case I ever saw. It's merely 
 ' Romeo and Juliet ' done over — the house of Capulet and the house of 
 Montague — with a happy ending substituted for the tragedy." 
 
 For a moment Ade was stunned. Then he threw up his hands, say- 
 ing, " All right. I thought I could get away v. 'th it, but you've caught 
 me with the goods." 
 
 Nefarious. 
 
 THERE was a young gent temerarious. 
 Who developed a talent burglarious. 
 He got caught in the strife. 
 And he now leads a life 
 Which is simple, but far from precarious. 
 
 Very Plain. 
 
 Restaurant patron—" That isn't a very good-looking piece of meat." 
 Waiter — " Well, you ordered a plain steak." 
 
 *'/ 
 
 AT THE SOURCE. 
 " Aha ! I knew there was a spring 
 around here." 
 
 A FINISHED ANIMAL PAINTER.
 
 CO 
 < 
 
 H 
 Z 
 
 H 
 OS 
 
 o 
 ui 
 
 H 
 Z 
 
 UJ 
 
 I 
 
 H
 
 A Few Facts. 
 
 I^HE CHILD who cried for an hour didn't get it. 
 * Sulphur springs are the best places for match- 
 making. 
 
 Pickpockets never succeed till they get their hands 
 in. 
 
 Pawnbrokers prefer patrons with no redeeming quali- 
 ties. 
 
 Corkscrews have sunk more people than cork jackets 
 will save. 
 
 The sluggard is referred to the ant, but he goes to 
 his uncle. 
 
 All that is requisite in the enjoyment of love or 
 sausages is confidence. 
 
 A little sighing, a little crying, a little dying, and a 
 great deal of lying constitute love. 
 
 A man is sometimes in advance of his age, but you 
 never heard of a woman in that condition. 
 
 Steam Heat. 
 
 OH, MY baby-child, Decatur, 
 Don't go near that radiator! 
 Precious little locks of gold. 
 You will catch jour death of cold! 
 
 Don't you see? Have you not noted 
 How with frost the heater's coated? 
 Icy icicles abound it — 
 See what glacierettes surround it! 
 
 For, Decatur, you must know 
 How the jant. , 'way down below, 
 Fills those pipes with steam, I'm told; 
 But that steam grows very cold. 
 
 Thus, as through the pipes it squeezes. 
 All that vapor quickly freezes 
 Long before our flat is reached — • 
 That old jant. should be impeached. 
 
 So be careful, darling baby. 
 Don't go near it, love, or maybe 
 You'll get grippe, or even freeze — ■ 
 Heaven's sakes ! He's going to sneeze ! 
 
 M. WORTH COI.WBLL. 
 
 « 
 
 ILLUSTRATED EXPRESSION. 
 "Hey Rube!" 
 
 A Self-answering Conundrum. 
 
 ^ATHAT is the difference," asks our friend, " be- 
 " " tween the men who crowd a theater to see the 
 ballet and the girls on the stage?" 
 " And the answer?" we inquire. 
 " All the girls look alike and all the men like a look." 
 
 Disconcerting. 
 
 ¥T IS disconcerting, when you have paid out five hun- 
 dred dollars for a violin and forty dollars for a bow. 
 to find that you can't make a squeak on the blamed thing 
 without a ten-cent piece of rosin ! 
 
 THE "WURST" IS YET TO COME.
 
 The Lucky Dog. 
 
 /^NCE upon a time a 
 ^"^ dog went to a 
 butcher shop and got a 
 nice piece of bologna 
 for his dinner. Then, 
 with the bologna, he 
 set out for his kennel. 
 Now, it happened in 
 going home that the 
 dog had to cross over 
 a low foot bridge span- 
 ning a stream of water. 
 But he trotted along at 
 a good pace, not looking 
 to the right or the left, 
 till he was about half 
 way across the bridge, 
 when suddenly his at- 
 tention was attracted 
 by a frog leaping into 
 the water. Then the 
 dog turned with bologna 
 in mouth, and gazed 
 
 into the depths for several seconds ; but he could see 
 nothing, only mud. 
 
 Being the source of the city's water supply, the dog's 
 astral was invisible. Thus, by the rarest good fortune, 
 was Shep enabled to go home and enjoy his dinner in 
 peace. 
 
 Comparative VeJues. 
 
 'INHERE is in our neighborhood a hard-working, origi- 
 
 * nal-minded woman who weaves rugs and carpets to 
 
 support a good-sized family. One of her patrons visited 
 
 "— &"& /1Do«^^s-~ 
 
 Kid—" How do you s'pose he keeps his teeth warm ?" 
 
 BALKED AT THE BUBBLING. 
 
 Danjid Hayson (from Placidville)— " Ye don't mean ter tell me 
 there's runnin* water in enj'ry room ?" 
 
 Hotel clerk (amused) — " 1 certainly do, sir." 
 
 Dii^uid Hayson — '* Then 1 guess as how 1*11 have ter hunt up a 
 quieter tavern, mister. I could never git no sleep in this place with all 
 thet there tricklin' an' splashin' vo\a on." 
 
 her the other day, and commented on the delicious odors 
 that came from a big pot on the stove, to which the good 
 woman responded, in a pleased tone, " It's a b'iled din- 
 ner. You know, we have b'iled dinner every day, 'most, 
 for father ain't got no teeth left and he can't chew any- 
 thing with a real bite to it. And s'long's he's eighty- 
 four his last birthday, and store teeth comes so high, it 
 just seems like it would hardly pay him to get a set for 
 the sake of a little chewin'." 
 
 The Enthusiast. 
 
 THE MUSIC of the Viennese 
 My Ethel could not fail to please — 
 It simply turned her head; 
 She danced the " Merry Widow Waltz " — 
 I'll not deny it — 'twould be false — 
 As if Vienna bred. 
 
 But now the " Widow " grows passe, 
 " The Waltz Dream " is her dearest play — 
 
 It is, upon my soul! 
 She's danced so long Vienna style. 
 That now she walks — I have to smile — • 
 
 With a Vienna roll. h. s. stuckey. 
 
 Those Coast Winter Resorts. 
 
 ««1J[UMPH!" ejaculated the Japanese official, "we 
 ** could land an army in California within twenty 
 
 days!" 
 
 "True," replied another dignitary; "but could we 
 
 keep it there long? I've read that living expenses there 
 
 average twenty dollars a day." 
 
 There Are Parallel Cases. 
 
 Primus — "That man came to this city forty years 
 ago, purchased a basket, and commenced gathering rags. 
 How much do you suppose he is worth to-day'" 
 
 Secondus — " Give it up." 
 
 Primus — " Nothing; and he owes for the basket."
 
 ■X^^ITP 
 
 < 
 
 -a 
 
 CQ
 
 He Met His Match 
 
 By A. B. Lewis 
 
 H 
 
 E WAS e«gaging a new stenographer, and he bit 
 oflf his words and hurled them at her in a way to 
 frighten any ordinary girl out of her wits. 
 
 " Chew gum?" he asked. 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 "Talk slang?" 
 
 "THAT BOY AGAIN." 
 Teddy — " Pa, did de Indians used ter cany keys around wid 
 'em fer ler open deir scalp-locks ?' 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 " Make goo-goo eyes at the fellows when you're not 
 busy?" 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 " Know how to spell such words as 
 ' cat ' and ' dog ' correctly?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "Chin through the telephone half a 
 dozen times a day?" 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 " Usually tell the office force how 
 much the firm owes and all the rest of its 
 private business you learn?" 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 He was thinking of something else to 
 ask her when she took a hand in the 
 matter and put a few queries. 
 
 " Smoke cheap cigars when you're 
 dictating?" she asked. 
 
 " Why — er — no!" he gasped, in aston- 
 ishment. 
 
 " Take it out of the stenographer's 
 hide when you've had a scrap at home 
 and got the worst of it?" 
 
 " Cer-certainly not!" 
 
 " Slam things around and swear when 
 business is bad?" 
 
 " N-never." 
 
 " Lay for your employes with a club 
 when they get caught in a block some 
 moniiDg?" 
 
 "No, indeed." 
 
 " Think you know enough about grammar and punc- 
 tuation to appreciate a good stenographer when you get 
 one?" 
 
 "I— I think so." 
 
 " Want me to go to work, or is your time worth so 
 little that " 
 
 "You bet!" he broke in enthusiastically. "Kindly 
 hang up your things and let's get at these letters." 
 
 Heard Every Spring. 
 
 tl I^ATHERE you fellers goin'?" 
 '^ "Fishin'. Come on." 
 "Na; t'cold." 
 
 " It's bound to warm up by noon." 
 " Haven't got no bait." 
 "Wegot'nuflf. Come on." 
 " Too much work to-day, boys." 
 " Be work here after you're dead." 
 " Fish ar'n't bitin', anyway." 
 " Wind's just right to-day." 
 " Wouldn't catch a fin 'f I went." 
 " We'll have a devil of a picnic, anyway." 
 " Where'll I meet you fellers." 
 " Down to Art's place. Drop in." 
 " Sure thing; ten minutes." 
 
 Hubby — " Why, he fairly took my breath away." 
 Wifeij — " I thought I missed something." 
 
 NOT BUILT FOR IT. 
 " I guess thoe's nothing (or us. He has nothing left but seats in the gallery.'
 
 An Early Test 
 
 By A. B. Lewis 
 
 IT WAS close to midnight, and although she had 
 yawned a dozen times during the past half hour, he 
 stayed on and tried to get up enough nerve to test 
 his fate. As the clock struck twelve, he took a long 
 breath and reached for her hand and said, " Miss Bluntly 
 — Maude — ever since I met you at the picnic last sum- 
 mer I have been madly in love with you." 
 
 " Is that so?" she replied, stifling a yawn and looking 
 anxiously at the clock. 
 
 " Yes, Maude. Will you marry me? Say that you'll 
 be mine and make me the happiest man in the world." 
 
 " Why — er — we haven't known each other very long," 
 she said, as she continued to watch the clock. 
 
 " Long enough for me to know that you are the only 
 girl I could ever love. Say the word and I'll do any- 
 thing — anything — you may ask." 
 
 " You will?" asked the girl, beginning to show some 
 interest in the matter for the first time. 
 
 "I will, Maude." 
 
 " Anything I may ask?" 
 
 "Anything, no matter what. I'd leap into a den of 
 lions for you; I'd throw myself into the raging sea or 
 leap from a balloon were you to ask it. Will you put 
 me to the test, dear?" 
 
 " Yes, Harold," she said, as she returned the pressure 
 of his hand and uttered a deep sigh of relief. " I prom- 
 ise to be yours; and now please get your hat and make 
 tracks for home. I've got to get up at five o'clock to- 
 morrow morning and help mother with the ironing." 
 
 Got What He Could. 
 
 'pHE GREAT specialist's patient, after many weeks 
 * of treatment, had at last been declared cured of 
 an " incurable " disease, and with a grateful feeling he 
 asked the physician the amount of his bill. 
 
 "That depends, my dear sir," said the specialist. 
 " Whenever I treat a man I always make it a point to 
 determine his occupation and how large a family he has 
 to support. Then I make out my bill accordingly. May 
 I ask what you do for a living?" 
 
 " I am a poet," replied the patient soulfully. 
 
 " In that case," said the physician, " if you will give 
 me the money in cash now, it'll be a dollar and a half." 
 
 <i 
 
 A Gentle Reminder. 
 
 'INHERE!" growled Mr. Suburbanite, as he stored 
 * the snow shovel in the farthest corner of the 
 basement; " ding you, I won't have to wrestle with you 
 
 for a few months, any- 
 way !" 
 
 Turning suddenly 
 around in thf dark, he 
 fell over soni'. thing that 
 gave forti - . erve-tear- 
 ing ratfiri and click. 
 With a wild ^Iiriek, he 
 fled up the cellar stairs 
 before the lawn-mower 
 could catch him. 
 
 Sign of Spring. 
 
 De Quiz — " Have you 
 heard a robin yet?" 
 
 De Whiz— "'Ho; but 
 I've seen a woman, with 
 her head tied up in 3 
 towel, beating p. carpet 
 in the back yard." 
 
 All Gone. 
 
 Papa — " What became 
 of the hole 1 saw in your 
 pants?" 
 
 Willie — "It's worn 
 out." 
 
 SHE TRUSTED HIM. 
 
 Mrs. Casey — " Shure, Dr. Mack, ye did so well by Felix, takin' out his appindex, Oi've brought ye me 
 youngest." 
 
 Emimnt surgeon—" Well, and what seems to be t!-,L .matter with him ?'* \ 
 
 Mrs. Casey — "Dandruff, sor," 
 
 9 
 
 Lady (to nurse) — 
 " Have you had any chil- 
 dren of your own?" 
 
 Nurse — " None to 
 speak of, madam."
 
 An Advantageous Partnership. 
 
 ^HE FOLLOWING "paid" ad. appeared, without 
 * editing, in the Pinhook Banner, of January 25th: 
 
 "KRIPPELS TAKE NOTUS!!! 
 
 " The Undersigned got onley wun leg left leg an wun 
 arm rite arm an want to git into pardnerships with wun 
 rite leg krippel an wun left arm krippel for exchanging 
 ov bootes shoes ovver shoes gloves an mittens withem 
 savin this way munney fer awl three on the same cloth- 
 ings which foot geer hez got fer to be number 10 dubbel 
 EE an mittens korrespondin plees anser with inclosing 
 stamps fer anser back an harty good will to awl. 
 " Your obeedeunt servent 
 
 "Hennery Pillocks Jr." 
 
 Cold-weather Pome. 
 
 THIS morn I can't compose 
 In prose, 
 As good style goes. 
 Because, I s'pose, 
 My ink is froze. 
 I cannot write — he knows! — 
 Good prose. 
 
 Or string out words in rows. 
 Turn on the hose. 
 My ink is froze! 
 I mean th' hot-water hose. 
 Oh, Mose! 
 Down in the nose 
 Of th' inkwell th' stub pen goes. 
 Aha! It did not sink; it rose! 
 My ink is froze ! 
 Smote the icy ink some blows, 
 And bent its toes, 
 My good old stubby pen ! 
 Oh, hear my tale of woes. 
 I cannot write this morn. 
 My ink is froze ! 
 
 .^ - '-' -^ 
 
 MOST OFFENSIVE. 
 
 Captain — " l( I see your face in my house again I shall slap it." 
 Noble foreigner — "Ah I but it ees a punishable offense." 
 Captain — " Of course it is. That is why 1 want to slap it." 
 
 (< OIR!' 
 
 ^^ window 
 
 Gee, whizz ! 
 My ink is friz. 
 
 JACK ROBINSON. 
 
 Cautious. 
 
 she said excitedly, approaching the teller's 
 in the bank, " I am informed that a 
 check I sent out the other day has been returned, marked 
 'No funds.' What does that mean?" 
 
 "It simply means, madam," responds the courteous 
 teller, " that we couldn't pay the check. There are no 
 funds to pay it. You already have an overdraft of sixty 
 dollars." 
 
 " And you can't pay the check?" 
 
 " No, madam. As I say, you have an overdraft of 
 
 sixty dollars, and we " 
 
 " Well, young man, I'll say this for you. At least 
 
 you are honest, and it 
 is very kind of you to 
 tell me of the condition 
 of the bank. I will 
 take my overdraft and 
 put the sixty dollars on 
 deposit elsewhere." 
 
 'm 
 
 h 
 
 WILD GAME ENTHUSIASTS. 
 
 Dad — "I wish I 
 could be a little boy 
 again, like you, Willie." 
 
 Willie — " I wish you 
 could, dad — only littler, 
 of course." 
 
 Reasonably Sure. 
 
 She — "Lois writes 
 for the magazines." 
 
 fTe — "She'll get 
 'em if she sends the 
 price."
 
 Just as Good as Ever. Too. 
 
 AN OLD physician was noted for his brusque manner 
 and old-fashioned methods. A lady called him in 
 to treat her baby, who was slightly ailing. The doctor 
 prescribed castor oil. 
 
 " But, doctor," protested the young mother, " castor 
 oil is such an old-fashioned remedy." 
 
 " Madam," replied the doctor, " babies are old-fash- 
 ioned things." 
 
 The Meaning^ Obvious. 
 
 Teacher — " What is the meaning of the phrase, ' A 
 well-read man '?" 
 
 The usual silence, when, after a short while. Stub 
 McGuff raises his hand. 
 
 Teacher — " Well, Mr. McGuflF, what is the meaning?" 
 
 Stub—" A healthy Indian." 
 
 The Way It Appeared to Her. 
 
 \Af HEN she was five years old her aunty took her to 
 church; it was her first experience. 
 
 When she got home her mother asked her how she 
 liked the service. 
 
 " Oh, well, God was there in a white nightgown, and 
 he didn't speak loud enough for the people to hear what 
 he said; so they kept saying over and over, 'We be- 
 switch Thee to let us hear Thee, good Lord.' I didn't 
 like it very much." 
 
 Located. 
 
 itVOU SAY that the cook assaulted you?" inquired 
 the judge. 
 " He did — kicked me, your honor." 
 " Where did he kick you?" 
 " In the pantry." 
 
 NOTHING NEW. 
 Excited coiv-puncher — " Look out, ladies I You'll get run down." 
 Miss Ne-TU York — " Don't be alarmed. We're used to dodging autos." 
 
 Song' of the Bunco Man. 
 
 LIVES of easy marks remind us we can make existence 
 'pay; 
 Let us then be up and doing every Rube who comes our 
 way. 
 
 Embarrassing. 
 
 TJgN'T it embarrassing, after you have been wearing a 
 soft Fedora all winter, to try to grab the dome of 
 your new derby when you meet a lady friend? 
 
 Of Course. 
 
 OP COURSE it makes a striking display advertise ■ 
 ment, but should not the line be drawn on 
 " Woman's shirt waists half off"? 
 
 Extra. 
 
 Johnny — " What difference will leap year make?" 
 Knicker — " We will have one more t:ook." 
 
 "S 
 
 HE'S a corker!" 
 Who is?" 
 "Why, that girl who works down at the bottl ! 
 
 «C ME'S quite well off, isn't he?" 
 
 " Oh, yes. Why, he has almost enough money factory." 
 
 to be in jail." 
 
 '^^AKE a " tip " on a horse or stock and you'll fin I 
 
 Dentists always look down in the mouth. 
 
 that your balance in bank has been tipped over.
 
 s
 
 Hank and the Photographer 
 
 By N. H. Crowell 
 
 'M — DON'T suppose none of 
 you fellers is bookwormy 
 enough to notice how I've 
 been advertisin' in th' mag- 
 azeens, " remarked old 
 Hank, the guide, as he 
 deftly short-circuited his 
 cud to his left cheek. 
 
 " But I have all th' same. 
 I concocted up a leetle 
 sig^, coverin' about everything from mud baths to post- 
 age stamps, with hide-tannin' an' restaurant in con- 
 nection throwed in. I got several communercations 
 from fellers, but none seemed to look like business ex- 
 cept one from a feller named Archibald Poggenfritz. 
 He had sev'ril initials left over, trailin' out behind his 
 name, like D. D., double L, an' soon. Archibald took 
 the thing into his own hands an' allowed he would arrive 
 at my camp about as soon as steam an' mule power could 
 draw him. 
 
 " Sev'ril days later I was down th' trail a ways, se- 
 ducin' frogs for bait, when I see a feller comin' up 
 a-straddle a mountain calliope. 
 
 " ' Whoa, mule!' says he, comin' to a stop. ' Thank 
 ye!' 
 
 " He was an awful perlite feller- 
 Then he hollers to me, 
 
 " ' I'm lookin' for Mr. Henry 
 direct me to hia place of 
 abode?' 
 
 " ' Sure I can!' says I. 'Ye 
 go quarter of a mile up trail, 
 eighth to th' left, two jumps 
 inter th' bresh, an' a half circle 
 to th' north. It's jest a mile 
 from there.' 
 
 " Th' stronger looked like he 
 was goin' to fall off th' mule 
 when he got that, an' I busted 
 right down an' owned up to my 
 mistaken identity on th' spot. 
 
 " ' Is that possible?' he re- 
 marks. ' My name is Archibald 
 Poggenfritz, at yer service. 
 There's a mule hair in my eye. 
 Will you pick it out?' 
 
 " We got real intimate while 
 I was operatin' on that hair, an' 
 then I towed him up to th' ranch. 
 Mr. Poggenfritz throwed hisself 
 around a feed big enough to 
 founder a team of horses, an' 
 said th' mountain air would un- 
 doubtedly assist his appetite, he 
 
 -I see that at once. 
 
 Smith. Can you 
 
 THE VERY POPULAR CUPID FAMILY. 
 
 hoped. I didn't make any remarks on what my hopes 
 was on that point. 
 
 " After supper I asks, kinder casual, 
 " ' What's yer petikelar specialty in th' game line, 
 Mr. Pog^pog — er — er — stranger?' 
 
 " ' Oh, anything that has fins, feathers, or fur — it's 
 all th' same to me!' 
 
 " ' Ever use frogs for bait?' 
 " ' Eh? No, never!' he says, sorter surprised. 
 " ' Prefer a large bore to a small one?' I asks. 
 " ' If you mean edibles — I never eat pork,' says he, 
 real tender. 
 
 " I begun to imagine Mr. Pog — pog — et cetera was 
 bughouse under th' hat. Finally I says, 
 " ' Got any newfangled shootin' irons?' 
 " ' Certainly!' he smiles, an' drags out a leetle black 
 box with a round cupola an' a winder in it. 
 
 " ' That's a snapshot machine — a cammery. Never 
 fails to get what it's aimed at!' 
 
 " ' Single-barreled, ain't it?' I says, squintin' close. 
 " He looked at me queer an' blowed his nose till it 
 woke up th' mule. But he didn't say anything. 
 
 " In 'bout an hour I got Archibald stretched out on 
 his back, sound asleep in pink-toed socks. He snored all 
 night like a band-saw cuttin' through a section of tar 
 sidewalk, but bright an' early he popped up an' went to 
 poundin' his chest like a young goriller. I was some 
 scairt at first, till I see he meant no harm only to his- 
 self. It was some foggy out, 
 an' th' perfesser — that's what 
 he was — a perfesser — was anx- 
 ious to start out, because he 
 said maybe we could run on to 
 something in th' fog an' surprise 
 it. He said a picture of a sur- 
 prised grizzly or a consternated 
 walrus would make a great hit 
 alongside th' views of stuffed 
 critters back East. 
 
 " So we slings in a little prov- 
 ender an' he gathers his outfit 
 an' away we went. Crossin' th' 
 back lot, we run up against a brace 
 of my heifers, lookin' about th' 
 size of an ice-house, account of 
 th' fog. Perfesser jolts me in 
 th' pit of th' stomach an' says, 
 '"Back! Stan' back!* 
 " I stepped back an' wondered 
 what in Jackson's Hole he in- 
 tended to do with them cows. 
 He begun trainin' that three- 
 legged cammery affair, talkin' 
 to hisself durin' th' operation.
 
 "'Phenomenal luck!' says he. ' Wonderful species, 
 too!' 
 
 " ' What ye doin', Archi — er — Mr. Pog — pogheiser?' I 
 asks. 
 
 "'One moment! I must photo those remarkable 
 specimens of barren-ground caribou!' 
 
 " ' Er — er — them there caribou yender, ye mean?' 
 
 " ' Ecksackly !' he says. 
 
 " He begun sneakin' up on them kine, luggin' that 
 contraption as cautious as if it was an infant. Purty 
 soon he plants it, an' rams his head in under a black 
 cloth behind an' humps up his back like a disturbed cat. 
 He was pesterin' away at th' cammery when I heard a 
 sorter low snore down in th' fog, an' then I see th' white 
 nose of ol' Andronicus, th' bull. 01' Andy had winded 
 th' perfesser an' was makin' up his mind to break into 
 th' picter. 
 
 ■ I lets out a yell jest as Andy runs his tail up so 
 stiff that ten men couldn't pull it down an' emitted a 
 beller that rattled th' change in my hip pocket. Th' 
 perfesser poked his topknot out an' seen Andy comin', 
 an' right there Mr. Poggenwurst exhibited th' first 
 chunk of horse sense I'd seen so far. He clapped them 
 three legs together, grated his teeth, and skidooed for 
 th' skyline at a sizzlin' canter. But oI' Andy 'd' a'caught 
 him in about seven more jumps if I hadn't landed on his 
 bugle with a big elm root an' sorter drawed his atten- 
 tion. When I caught up with Archibald, he was still 
 
 NOTHING DOING THERE. 
 
 Parke — " I'm looking for a nice, quiet 
 place to spend my vacation in." 
 
 Liine — " You mean a place where you 
 can have absolute rest — where there is 
 nothing doing?" 
 
 Parke — Yes. Do you know 
 such a place ?" 
 
 Laite—'^ You bet ! My office. " 
 
 of 
 
 A MERE SIDE ISSUE. 
 
 Mart Hatch — "Well, the editor of the Bantier says that England 
 has got Japan fer a ally." 
 
 Hiram Waddle—' A alley ! Well, now, you'd think them Japs 
 would want to be the hull main street'' 
 
 grittin' his teeth an' had his toes dug in ready to run, 
 but I explained how I'd slew th' hideous monster by 
 gougin' out both eyes with my trusty buttonhook, an' he 
 breathed a lot easier. 
 
 " ' Them northern caribou possess th' main character- 
 istics of th' carnivory !' he says to me. 
 
 "'Yes; but their fur is thicker, don't you think?' 
 I says. 
 
 " We wrestled along a spell, stoppin' every 
 leetle bit to overhaul th' cammery an' see if it 
 was still ready an' willin' to do business when 
 persuaded. We was movin' down a steep slope 
 'mongst some berry bushes, when all to once a 
 big grizzly riz right up in front of us, about 
 sixty foot off. I begun sizin' up th' timber 
 right away, while th' perfesser started in un- 
 bucklin' that picter machine. He looks around 
 an' notices me spittin' on both hands an' gazin' 
 up into a tall tree. 
 
 " ' He's out of focus! Step behind him an' 
 
 shoo him this way, please!' says th' perfesser. 
 
 " ' Are you awake, perfesser?' I inquires, 
 
 edgin' closer to th' tree an' pullin' my belt two 
 
 notches tighter for luck. 
 
 " Well, he seen I was no bear-herder, so he 
 picked up a rock an' heaved it down grade at 
 th' bear, an', by leather! he took that critter a 
 jolt on th' eyetooth that made him think of his 
 grandma, I tell ye! He wa'n't much more'n 
 a piece of a secont turnin' around an' headin' 
 our way, either. Perfesser, he begun gettin' 
 busier'n a cat tryin' to catch two rats at once, 
 an' th' way he jerked an' manhandled that 
 cammery affair was amazin'. 
 
 " I forgot all about tree-climbin' an' jest 
 nachelly begun pumpin' soft solder into that bear 
 as fast as th' lever'd agitate. He finally drop- 
 ped, so close to th' perfesser that his front claws 
 raked Archibald's pants in two from th' knees 
 down an' sprained all three legs on th' cammery.
 
 QUITE NATURAL. 
 
 Crusty gent— "Usher, can't you stop that 
 fool? He is annoying every one with his vio- 
 lent applause." 
 
 Usher — " No, sir. You — er — see, he is the 
 author of the play " 
 
 " But Poggenbecker was tickled as a kid at a taffy- 
 pull. 
 
 "'Eureky! Eureky!' he yells. 'Five different as- 
 pects an' a magnifercent bust portrait!' 
 
 " Of course if he'd got all that it wa'n't so bad, but 
 it certainly looked foolish to a man up a tree. I asked 
 him if th' bear looked pleasant, an' he gave me a glare 
 an' I shut up. 
 
 " After saunterin' on an hour or so we come to an on- 
 common strong bit of work. Th' perfesser located it 
 before I did an' got his ma- 
 chine ready in about nothin'. 
 He had three of th' biggest 
 an' most able-bodied skunks 
 I ever laid human eye on to 
 lined up at th' foot of a big 
 tree, waitin' to git their pic- 
 ters took. 
 
 "'Such amazin' inner- 
 c e n c e ! ' says Poggenberg, 
 when I come up. 
 
 " ' Yes,' says I. ' I've no- 
 ticed it. It's onusual !' 
 
 " ' I love young porcu- 
 pines,' he remarks. ' These 
 haven't got their quills yet, 
 ye see.' 
 
 " Something rose in my 
 neck that felt like General 
 Grant's Tomb, an' I says, 
 
 " ' They do look cunnin' !' 
 
 " Then th' perfesser sneaked a leetle nearer to get a 
 better shot, an' th' innercent young porcupines stuck 
 their heads together and whispered. Th' perfesser was 
 jest balancin' on his hind toes for a dandy exposure when 
 th' scandal was oncovered. I heard something click, an' 
 two of th' perfesser's pants' buttons whizzed by me, 
 follerin' a jump he executed that would have busted th' 
 pole-vault record into little strips. We separated rap- 
 idly. A sorter coldness sprung up between me'n him 
 that you could cut with a dull knife or a piece of winder 
 glass. Th' perfesser yearned for home an' friends in 
 language I was perfectly familiar with. 
 
 " I got to camp first, an', by usin' a cocked gun, 
 managed to keep th' perfesser off ontil I'd heaved his 
 spare duds into th' brash, where he could get 'em with- 
 out chloroformin' me. Th' cammery an' th' art gallery 
 he had took was a complete ruin an' never left th' scene 
 of battle. 
 
 " Mr. Poggenfizzle went back East, disguised as a 
 section hand, an' I have yanked them there advertise- 
 ments out of them magazeens. I ain't caterin' to no 
 sech make of humans nohow. What? All right, Jake 
 — about nine fingers in a section of stovepipe for mine!" 
 
 Two Kinds of Them. 
 
 THE end-seat hog refused to move. 
 He sat there like a log. 
 " Why should I give it up," he said, 
 " To another end-seat hog?" 
 
 Concerning the Pope. 
 
 A GENTLEMAN, walking down one of the streets of 
 Harlem on St. Patrick's Day, overheard a Catholic 
 priest chaffing an Irishman at work in a trench with a 
 gang of Italians. 
 
 " Well, Pat! You here? A fine son of old Ireland 
 you are, to be working on this grand holiday of St. Pat- 
 rick," said the priest. " How do you like your Italian 
 boss?" 
 
 " Faith, how do you like yours?" responded Pat. 
 
 ^*«g^tr? 
 
 
 QOQ AOOA^r^i '^ ~~. — y^~ 
 
 THE ORIGINAL "PLYMOUTH ROCK.'*
 
 J3 60 
 
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 To Arcady. 
 
 COME, Daphne, let us two away. 
 Far from the madding city fray. 
 Let's seelc the beauteous countryside, 
 Where slties are blue, and there abide 
 Where Mother Nature rules supreme 
 And life becomes a peaceful dream. 
 
 Let's hie us to the happy vale. 
 Where rillets woo the ferny dale; 
 Where birds their tuneful carols trill. 
 And lowing cattle dot the hill, 
 And where the twilight's dying glows 
 Give life the colors of the rose; 
 
 Where lurks the nightingale at e'en. 
 And Arcady's own freshness green 
 Imparts to tired souls a zest 
 To win the prizes that are best; 
 Where hand in hand, and cheek to cheek, 
 We twain can live on ten per week ! 
 
 JOHN KENDRICK BANGS. 
 
 At the Springs. 
 
 Josh Wethershy — "Say, boy! d'ye mean 
 ter tell me that yer kin make me young an' 
 spry ag'in if I stop here fer more'n a 
 week?" 
 
 Hotel clerk — " Sure thing, uncle ! Front, 
 show the gentleman to suite sixteen." 
 
 The New Fashions. 
 
 Spirit—" Why can't I get in?" 
 St. Peter — "No room; the ladies are all 
 wearing wide halos this spring." 
 
 THOSE DOLLAR WATCHES. 
 Dr. Fudge — "As I suspected, you have an 
 aggravated case of the automobile heart." 
 
 AN INTERRUPTED HONEYMOON. 
 Tabitha cat — " Goodness gracious, Tom I news of our elopement must 
 have leaked out. They're throwing old shoes at us I" 
 
 How To Look Rich. 
 
 I^HIS is an extremely simple matter. Frequently persons of 
 ordinary means desire to convey an impression of opulency. 
 This recipe is guaranteed, because it has been drawn up from yeara 
 of personal experience. 
 
 Purchase two cases of champagne and drink the contents of the 
 bottles as fast as possible. When they have been consumed you will 
 find that your face has assumed a blotted, purple, and ruddy com- 
 plexion. 
 
 Now buy a red necktie to match and a checkered vest. Your ap- 
 pearance will be distinctly epicurean and your disguise complete. 
 Most people will sincerely think that you are a multi-millionaire. 
 
 No Resemblance. 
 
 Keeper of zoo — " Have you seen my black antelope?" 
 
 Farmer — " Wa-al, I jest seen a nigger wench go by with a man; 
 
 but, by gosh! judgin' accordin' to looks, who'd ever 'ave thought 
 
 she was any relation o' youm?"
 
 Her Two Lines 
 
 By Morris Wade 
 
 "B 
 
 Y THE way, how much a line do you charge 
 for advertising lost articles?" 
 
 " Ten cents." 
 
 "Ten cents? Let me see — two lines 
 would be twenty cents, wouldn't it? I guess I can put 
 what I want to say in two lines. And will you write it 
 for me, please? I have on my glove, and then you know 
 much better than I just 
 what to say. I have the idea 
 all right in my mind, but 
 putting it on paper is another 
 matter. It's a purse I want 
 to advertise — my own. I 
 have lost it some place and 
 I want to advertise it in not 
 more than two lines, for there 
 wasn't a great deal in the 
 purse and it wouldn't pay 
 me to spend much trying to 
 recover it. Still, the purse 
 was a present to me, and I 
 would like to have it back on 
 that account, for you know 
 
 that — what do I want to say about it? Well, you might 
 say that the owner values the purse more for its associa- 
 tions than for its intrinsic value. I believe that is the 
 way they say it, isn't it? It is really quite a handsome 
 purse, and it has my monogram on it. You might put 
 that in — say that the monogram of the owner is on the 
 purse, and that it was lost either on Blank or K Street, 
 or else over on Willow Avenue or somewhere near the 
 Union Station. I can't say just where, for I didn't miss 
 it until after I had been to all of those places, and I 
 know that I had it before I went to any of them. You 
 
 A CANDY PULL 
 
 might say that it is a seal-leather purse with a gold 
 clasp and, as I say, my monogram, 'J. F. C.,' on one 
 side in gold letters, and that it had in it about three 
 dollars in paper and silver. I know that there was a 
 two-dollar bill and quite a little silver and a few pen- 
 nies, and a tiny red pencil, such as they use on ball 
 programs, and a small sample of voile, and another of 
 
 blue liberty satin, and a pearl 
 button I wanted to match, 
 and a thread or two of brown 
 sewing-silk I wanted to 
 match, and a little verse 
 of poetry entitled ' Remem- 
 bered,' that I cut out of a 
 paper, and a tiny lock of my 
 baby's hair — beautiful gold- 
 en hair it is, just like spun 
 silk. You got that? Then 
 there were other things you 
 will want to mention — a 
 bit of blue dotted veiling I 
 wanted to match, and a small, 
 flat door-key, and a very 
 tiny key that belongs to my jewel case, and a curious old 
 coin that I carry as a sort of a mascot, and a recipe for 
 Lady Baltimore cake. I suppose that is enough of the 
 contents to identify the purse and prove that it is mine. 
 Then I think that you'd better say that the finder will 
 receive a suitable reward by leaving the purse at my 
 home or at my husband's office, or if the finder will tele- 
 phone me I will call for it. My telephone number is 
 1253, ring two, Thorndyke, and my husband's ofiice tele- 
 phone is 52 Maxwell. You might say that it will do to 
 call up either number, and I think that you'd better add 
 
 THE FIRST JOKE. 
 
 1. This prehistoric humorist has just achieved a jest 
 (The very firstest, firstest ever sprung), 
 
 2. And he said, " Now, just watch Willie when he shows it 
 to the rest." 
 (It mig/it have been a good one when 'twas young).
 
 THE FIRST ]OKE— Continued. 
 
 bm\M 
 
 /"i 
 
 I '. 
 
 V, 
 
 ^»//. 
 
 3. "As the comic cut-up kid I'll make a hit with all the 
 bunch." 
 (Did you ever hear a party talk like that?) 
 
 that the finder may keep the 
 two dollars if the purse is 
 returned; and if it will be 
 more convenient for the 
 finder to do so, he or she 
 can leave the purse at the 
 store of my brother, Mr. 
 John Blank, over on the west 
 side. He comes over to my 
 house every Sunday after- 
 noon, and he could bring 
 it and save the finder the 
 trouble of coming away out 
 to where I live, although 
 you might say that I will 
 be very glad to pay the car- 
 fare of any one returning 
 the purse, and — now can you 
 get that in two lines? I 
 wish you would, please, for I 
 want to put the advertise- 
 ment in three papers, and if 
 I have to pay twenty cents to 
 each paper and keep the 
 
 notice in a couple of days, it will amount to quite a good 
 deal. I suppose you couldn't get it all in one line, could 
 you? No? If I have to pay for two lines, you might 
 add that the person who found the purse was seen to pick 
 it up. Of course he or she wasn't, but I have read that 
 if you put that in when advertising a lost article you 
 will be more apt to get it back; and if I must pay for 
 two whole lines I might as well use all of both of them." 
 
 Everything as It Should Be. 
 
 (< » HAVE a question to ask you." The proud, intel- 
 
 Jl lectual beauty looked intently in the face of the 
 
 young man who had sworn to love her forever. 
 
 " We are in such perfect sympathy," she said, " that it 
 
 is hardly worth while to refer to a slight detail, and yet, 
 
 ' as a mere formality, the matter would better be referred 
 
 4. But, alas! it toppled over. Willie wasn't home to lunch. 
 (It's an awful thing to have one's joke fall flat !) 
 
 V/H^, 
 
 '^^. 
 
 
 ^^^^^//VQ 
 
 the 
 
 5. They used it as a tombstone when they stuck him 
 ground 
 (They said it looked appropriate that way). 
 They'd never seen a tombstone, but their reasoning was 
 sound. 
 (And I saw that joke in Life the other day !) 
 
 to, now that we are about 
 to be married, and the long 
 evenings are ahead of us — 
 evenings during which we 
 can discuss the manifold 
 questions of the day." 
 
 He smiled brightly. " I'm 
 only too delighted, dear," 
 he replied, " to satisfy your 
 curiosity. Pray proceed." 
 Smiling lightly, she said, 
 " Very well, then. This is 
 the question to which I am 
 sure you must have given 
 earnest and prayerful 
 thought. In which, among 
 all of Ibsen's plays, do you 
 consider the great master 
 reached the height of his 
 genius?" 
 
 " Do you wish to know 
 my real opinion?" 
 "I do." 
 Lowering his voice, he 
 said, " Darling, the Ibsen cult makes me very weary. 
 He never wrote anything that can be remotely consid- 
 ered a work of genius. He is a freak. There's noth- 
 ing in him. I " 
 
 " Do you really mean that?" She strained him to her 
 heart. 
 
 " I do, indeed. Does it please you?" 
 
 And she replied, "Ah, I cannot tell how much! I 
 was afraid you might appreciate him even in a remote 
 way. And I knew if you did you might rudely break in 
 at times on my contemplation of his immensity. Now 
 nothing can happen to draw us apart." 
 
 THOMAS L. MASSON. 
 
 Mooney — " Faith, Oi cud die listenin' to Tom Calla- 
 han play th' poipes." 
 
 Donahue — " Fer meself, Oi'd prefer a paceful ind."
 
 BEAUTIFUL THOUGHT. 
 "Why do you weep?" I said, 
 For tears were in her eyes. 
 She looked up timidly, 
 
 Quite taken by surprise. 
 Then, through her falling tears, 
 
 A tender smile revealing, 
 She simply pointed to 
 
 The onions she was peeling. 
 
 LUE p. VERNON. 
 
 What Pat Was After. 
 
 I^HE Little Wabash River was on a rampage. Its 
 waters were all over the bottom-lands and many 
 farms were inundated, in some cases the water coming 
 up to and all around the farmers' homes. Among the 
 houses to be completely surrounded was that of one Pat- 
 rick O'Brien. A neighbor of Pat's, rowing a boat down 
 the middle of the road during the flood, perceived Pat 
 wading around out in the back yard, a tin bucket in one 
 hand and a long stick in the other. He was advancing 
 cautiously and at the same time poking about in the 
 water with the stick at every step. Wondering what 
 Pat could be about, the rower shipped oars and called 
 out, 
 
 " What's the matter, Pat?" 
 
 " B'jabers, an' I'm a-lookin' fer me well, to git a 
 pail o' wather out!" was O'Brien's reply. 
 
 The Poor Old Beggar. 
 
 ■'¥*HE prosperous wholesale grocery dealer had sold out 
 his business preparatory to departing for the West 
 to live. He was reflecting, the next morning, on the 
 prospect of getting a good price for his house, which the 
 day before he had advertised for sale, when the doorbell 
 jingled merrily. 
 
 "Sir," said the maid, putting her head in at the 
 
 library door a moment later, " it's the old beggar from 
 the corner near your store, sir." 
 
 " Old Jo, the beggar, eh?" rejoined the retired busi- 
 ness man, taking from his pocket a coin. " I presume 
 the wretched old fellow missed my customary contribu- 
 tion this morning and is come for it. Here, give him 
 this dollar." 
 
 The maid went away with the money and again re- 
 turned. 
 
 " I gave the dollar, sir," said she, " and he seemed 
 very thankful for it; but he says he'd like to speak a 
 moment with you on business, sir." 
 
 " What business can that old beggar have with me?" 
 
 " He says that if you can bring the price of this house 
 down to twenty thousand dollars cash, he'd buy it, sir!" 
 
 Dead Easy. 
 
 IT IS not hard to write amusing things. 
 You only sit and take your pen in hand — 
 
 Or your typewriter, if you understand 
 How it is worked — and wait until the wings 
 Of fancy stir the Heliconian springs 
 
 Of,light and joy, imagination, and 
 
 Wait till your brain to fever heat is fanned. 
 And then reel oif the stuff that tickles kings. 
 
 It is not hard. Why, it is just as easy ! 
 A child can do it with supreme delight. 
 
 The one prerequisite for sayings breezy 
 Is just to learn to hold a pen and write; 
 
 And then, unless your brain is very cheesy. 
 You're " it," " the real " — a joker out of sight. 
 
 WILUa LEONARD CLANABAN. 
 
 A HALF-PORTION. 
 
 Countryman — " Fifteen cents fer a hair-cut?" 
 Barber — " Right you are !" 
 Countryman — " Wa-al, take oflE abaout ten 
 cents' worth. " 
 
 \
 
 TEAM WORK. 
 
 FOOTBALL TERM. 
 
 CaiTying the bawl around the end for a long run. 
 
 No Hair-splitting. 
 H T>UT." argues the exasperated automobilist, who 
 
 " has been haled before the country justice, " you 
 haven't the shadow of a reason for arresting and trying 
 me. Why, man, my machine was standing stock still. 
 Absolutely motionless! Even the constable will tell you 
 that." 
 
 " The automobull was a-standin' still all right," ac- 
 knowledges the constable, " but its engine was runnin' 
 full blast, an' it sounded just like they do when they go 
 forty miles a hour." 
 
 "But my machine was not moving! Judge, this is 
 prepos " 
 
 " The evidence is all against you," coldly decided the 
 justice. "Twenty dollars and costs. This is not the 
 time or place for idle technicalities." 
 
 Where Pat Made a Mistake. 
 
 << r^H," sobbed Mrs. Casey, " some wan told me hus- 
 ^■^ band Pat that he c'd have his pants pressed be 
 
 lettin' th' steam roller run over thim, an' Pat troid th' 
 
 scheme!" 
 
 " Well, phy do ye cry?" asked her friend, Mrs. Gar- 
 
 rity. 
 
 " Oh !" wailed the wife, " Pat forgot t' take th' pants 
 
 off first!" 
 
 USED TO HER BURDEN. 
 
 Roonan — "Casey only dead two months an' there goes th' woife av him w!d a ' Merry 
 Widdy ' shappough !" 
 
 Noonati — " Yis ! An', d'ye moind, she carries it as aisy as she used to th' baskst av laun- 
 dry befoor Casey doi'd an' lift her his loife-insurance mooney 1"
 
 o 
 X 
 
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 •a 
 
 W c 
 
 w - 
 
 Oh ^ 
 
 ■ CO 
 en 
 
 - 2"c 
 iS «■= 
 
 J5 G rt 
 
 Q ■- " 
 
 or; Si 
 = §r 
 fe-« g 
 
 ?^_ 
 "l <j: 
 iL 
 
 t; <» S 
 
 c
 
 First of May. 
 
 TO MOVE or not to move : that \3 the question. 
 Whether 'tis better in this flat to suffer 
 The slings and arrowfi of an outraged landlord. 
 Or to take one with seven light rooms in Harlem, 
 Without an elevator. To pack, to move; 
 No more; and by that move to say we end 
 The subway jar and other natural shocks 
 This flat is heir to — 'tis a consummation 
 Devoutly to be wished. To pack, to move; 
 To move, perchance to worse! Ay, there's the rub! 
 For in that Harlem flat what ills may come 
 When we have given up this present lease, 
 Must give us pause. "There's the respect 
 That makes this Home, Sweet Home so hard a life. 
 For who would bear the troubles of a flat. 
 The janitor's tongue, the proud cook's contumely. 
 The smells of others' meals, the milk's delay, 
 The violence of tradesmen, the steam heat 
 (That always is too little or too much), 
 When he himself might a quietus have 
 In a small boarding-house? Who'd stay here in 
 
 gloom. 
 But that the dread of Harlem, far away. 
 That undiscovered country where is born 
 The frisky goat and sad-faced strap-hanger. 
 Traveling hours on end, puzzles the will 
 And makes us rather keep the flat we have 
 Than move to others that we know not of. 
 Thus moving-day makes cowards of us all, 
 And thus the happy thought of better quarters 
 Is sicklied o'er with thought of broken things 
 When enterprising movers pitch and tumble 
 The barreled bric-a-brac and boxed-up glass, 
 And we dare not bring action ! cakolyn weua 
 
 He Stayed. 
 
 ««^ArHAT! going to leave us so soon, Thomas?' 
 
 COMFORTING NEWS OF HIS SON. ^' "Sorry, sir; but I must tell you as 'owl 
 
 "Professor, how is that boy of mine getting along ? Does he can't put up with the missus any longer." 
 
 But, Thomas (appealingly), think how long Fve 
 
 seem ambitious? 
 
 " I should say so ! Most ambitious boy I ever saw — to get out 
 of school." 
 
 put up with her!" 
 
 LIGHT-OPERA IDEALS. 
 Mrt. Constable Shu fflesopp—" Joshuay I be ye loony ? Why are ye rigged 
 Constable Shufflesopp—' Mayor's orders fer th' beautifyin' uv th' town. 
 like this ter a show down ter N' York, an' they wuz mighty ornamental." 
 
 /ig-SrJfrMt/f^^ 
 
 out in thet — the " 
 
 He sez he seed gal copa
 
 He Furnished Proof 
 
 By A. B. Lewis 
 
 •• ¥J^ARE, please." 
 
 f "I paid tny fare." 
 
 " If you paid your fare I wouldn't be here 
 asking you for it." 
 
 " Oh, you're one of those bright conductors who never 
 make a mistake, eh?" 
 
 " I'm bright enough to know you're trying to beat 
 the company." 
 
 "Yes?" 
 
 "That's what I said." 
 
 " You run right along now. I want to finish this 
 story in the paper about the fight." 
 
 "Whatfight is that?" 
 
 " Why, a fresh conductor thought he'd bulldoze a pas- 
 senger out of a second fare, and he got an awful thrash- 
 ing." 
 
 " You can't bluff me." 
 
 " That's what the passenger said as he handed out an 
 upper-cut." 
 
 " Then you won't pay, eh?" 
 
 " Not a second fare." 
 
 " Say, when did you get on this car, anyway?" 
 
 " About a week ago, it seems to me. I got on at 
 Beverly Street." 
 
 " Oh, you did. Maybe you can mention a few things 
 that happened to show you got on away back there?" 
 
 " Sure thing. At Blank Street four people got on, 
 and you only rang up three fares. At James Place you 
 took a quarter from a woman and bluffed her out of the 
 change. At Nelson Avenue you collected six fares, but 
 the company will only get three. At Lanly Street 
 you" 
 
 But at this juncture the conductor seemed to have 
 very important business on the back of the car. At any 
 rate, he hurried back there, and for the next twenty 
 minutes he was as flustrated as an old maid about to 
 make a leap-year proposal. 
 
 First bench-warmer- — " We want ter look out fer dem 
 dog perlice. " 
 
 Second bench-warmei — " Nuttin' doin'. We ain't 
 got a cent." 
 
 WRONG NAME. 
 
 SeeJy man (excitedly thrusting his hands into his pockets) — " B' gobbs ! I have lost my purse. I simply must go 
 to Plymouth, and the train leaves in three minutes. B' gobbs ! I hate to ask you, but would you mind " 
 
 Conductor (affably) —" You have made a mistake. I am not B. (3obbs; I am O. Hill. B. Gobbs is conductor on 
 the next freight. You have just time to catch it by getting off now."
 
 A REASSURANCE 
 " Dear me! what's the matter, sonny ?" 
 "Boo-hoo! Here " - . - 
 
 ain"t caught nothin'.'' 
 "Well, nevermind ; 
 
 thing when you get home 
 
 I've bin a-fishln" all day an' 
 you're bound to catch some- 
 
 LITTLE CHESTNUTS. 
 
 'l^HACKERAY tells us of an Irishwoman begging alms 
 * from him, who, when she saw him put his hand in 
 his pocket, cried out, " May the blessing of God follow 
 you all your life!" But when he only pulled out his 
 snuff-box, she immediately added, " And never overtake 
 ye." 
 
 " Lenny, you're a pig," said a father to his little five- 
 year-old boy. " Now, do you know what a pig is, 
 Lenny?" 
 
 " Yes, sir; a pig's a hog's little boy." 
 C. E. Showalter (eleven years old), Roanoke, Va. 
 
 EQUAL TO THE OCCASION. 
 
 OALPH had been in the habit of begging a penny 
 ^^ from his father every few days, with which to buy 
 a fresh doughnut from the 
 bakery next door. 
 
 One day he had made 
 bis purchase and was leav- 
 ing the bakery, when the 
 proprietor noticed that the 
 penny had a hole in it, and 
 exclaimed, " Bring that 
 doughnut back, Ralph. 
 Your penny has a hole in 
 it!" 
 
 The little fellow prompt- 
 ly replied, " Well, so has 
 yourdoughnut!"and closed 
 the door after him, leaving 
 the proprietor to figure out 
 who had made the best of 
 the situation. 
 
 W. U. Townsend, 
 
 Bolivar, Mo. 
 10 
 
 Literary Notes. 
 
 BOOKS are booming again. One of the six best cel- 
 lars in Kansas this season is the cyclone cellar. 
 We print this joke just to get it out of the way. 
 
 A popular cereal in Scotland this year, for which 
 there is even a greater demand than for the works of 
 Barrie or Stevenson, is oatmeal. Our reason for print- 
 ing this joke is the same as above. 
 
 A story that has attracted much attention among vis- 
 itors to the metropolis this winter is the top story of the 
 Flatiron Building. It is lofty in character and exceed- 
 ingly breezy. We don't know why we have printed this 
 joke, but here it is. 
 
 If you are looking for a book that is full of live char- 
 acters, all of them intensely human and thoroughly of 
 to-day, you will find the March issue of the telephone 
 book contains all that you seek, although some readers 
 prefer the current edition of the city directory. This 
 isn't a joke, but a solid fact. 
 
 Word has been received in this city of the death of 
 William Shakespeare. Mr. Shakespeare was the author 
 of several poems of note and a play called " Hamlet" 
 that was produced in New York last winter to indifferent 
 houses. He was also the writer of a large number of 
 popular quotations. His decease leaves Mr. Bernard 
 Shaw the only considerable literary personage in England. 
 
 A Western critic has been at considerable pains to 
 prove that Daniel Webster did not write Webster's Dic- 
 tionary. His argument in the main is not convincing, 
 but his assertion that the book does not read like one of 
 Webster's speeches, lacks coherence and continuity of 
 thought, is impressive, and to some minds we should 
 think would prove conclusive. 
 
 A collection of short biographies of President Taft, 
 ex-President Roosevelt, Hon. James R. Garfield, Mr. 
 Jacob Riis, W. J. Loeb, and Surgeon-General Rixey is 
 announced for early publication, under the alluring title 
 of " Me and My People." It is expected to prove as 
 popular as "Plutarch's Lives," or that old favorite, 
 " Rab and His Friends." john kendrick bangs. 
 
 ADULTERATED FODDER. 
 
 Maud — "I have my suspicions about that bale of hay. I think it's adulterated with rails 
 and thisde and barbed-wire fencing." 
 
 Madge — " Oh, nonsense ! It must be all right, Maud. It bears the pure-food inspector'* 
 tag, which in itself is sufficient to guarantee it."
 
 Our American Quarter. 
 
 WITH a gentle allegro-non-troppo 
 movement, the French count 
 descended from the top of the Seeing 
 New York auto and advanced to meet 
 us. 
 
 "Well," we said blithely, "what 
 do you think of our village?" 
 
 "Ah!" he replied, " ze American 
 colony^ze American quarter of ze 
 greatest city in ze world! — it is su- 
 pherb! It is ze one grand place! It 
 is exquisite! But it has ze one fault 
 — it has too many of ze odars. It is 
 fill wiz ze odar of zis thing and wiz ze 
 odar of zat thing; it is fill wiz ze odar 
 • of ze rose and wiz ze odar of ze tur- 
 nip; it is fill wiz ze odar of ze wine 
 and ze quail-on-toast, and wiz ze odar 
 of ze beer and ze goolash. Ah, me! 
 I fear zat ze American quarter has 
 more zan ze twenty-five 'cent!" 
 
 
 -not even far de sake 
 
 With the Usual Thanks. 
 
 IpDITOR " Perfect Ladies' Com- 
 ^^ panion," 
 
 Dear sir: Would you be good enough to print the 
 inclosed poem in your esteemed publication at your usual 
 rates? Respectfully, A. J. Poet. 
 
 A. J. Poet, Esq., 
 
 Dear sir: I would be, but the poem isn't. Respect- 
 fully, The Editor. 
 
 Protest. 
 
 THERE was a puir laddie ca'ed Patten; 
 Sae worrit was he to pit fat on, 
 That he ganged to his bed, 
 And on eggs was he fed, 
 Till a hen cried, " It's time he were sat on!" 
 
 A COMPROMISE. 
 
 Louhe — "Wouldn't yer give up smokin', Chimmy- 
 uv me an" de child ?" 
 
 Jimmy — "Yes-s-s-s, Louise; fer your sake an' de brat's I gives it up — if 
 yer don't ax me ter t'row away de butt." 
 
 At the Liars' Club. 
 
 ANANIAS had just gotten off one he thought rather 
 good. 
 
 " That's nothing," said the new member. " Just be- 
 fore I came here Mississippi sent a colored delegate to 
 the Democratic national convention." 
 
 And amid a sickening silence Ananias unbuckled his 
 championship belt and gave it to the newcomer. 
 
 He Knew. 
 
 Teacher — "Johnny, what is an aeronaut?" 
 Johnny (who has had experience) — " An aeronaut is 
 
 a man who goes up in a 
 balloon, gives you the 
 hook, throws sand on you, 
 and then leaves you up in 
 a tree." 
 
 A Truthful Prisoner. 
 
 <i pOOR fellow!" said 
 the sympathetic 
 visitor to the prisoner at 
 Ossining, "would you 
 mind telling me what 
 brought you here?" 
 
 "The Peekskill local, 
 ma'am," said the prisoner 
 respectfully, " leavin' the 
 Grand Central Station at 
 two- ten." 
 
 "Dam the luck, anyhow I How the deuce am I ever going to get under that machine?" 
 
 When the plumber sends 
 in his little bill to the 
 auto repair-shop, the graft- 
 ers all snicker.
 
 Spring Fever. 
 
 A MAN on third; two batters out; 
 Two runs would win the game. 
 If he could make a home-run clout, 
 Deathless would be his fame. 
 
 He hitched his grimy trousers up 
 
 And sp^t upon his hands; 
 He pulled his cap athwart his eye 
 
 And faced the howling stands. 
 
 "Three balls!" the fans yelled with 
 delight. 
 " Two strikes !" the umpire said. 
 He knocked the next ball out of 
 sight — 
 And then fell out of bed. 
 
 Why, of Course. 
 
 'l^HE editor of an agricultural paper 
 * was grumbling about a puzzling 
 question he had received from a 
 city man who had recently removed 
 to the country. The inquiry was this: 
 " Will you kindly tell me how long cows should be 
 milked?" 
 
 The office boy, passing near, heard his superior re- 
 peating the question aloud. 
 
 " 'Scuse me, boss," he said; " but w'y don't yer tell 
 him jea' de same 's short cows?" 
 
 a-%nMft^ 
 
 REASONABLE EXPECTATION. 
 
 Mother — "Willie, this is Mr. Wise, your new tutor." 
 Small boy — "Well, why doesn't he toot?" 
 
 " Sure ! Our anniversary, Margaret dear " (pretend- 
 ing to have remembered it all the time). 
 
 "No such thing" (frigidly). "It's the day. you 
 promised to nail the leg on that old kitchen table!" 
 
 Lysander paled, tried to square himself on the anni. 
 _versary blunder, failed utterly, and the fireworks were on. 
 
 Bliss. 
 
 <« I YSANDER " (sweetly), " do you know what day 
 ■^ this is?" 
 
 OVERHEARD IN THE NEXT BOX. 
 "Why have they given up having monkey dinners at 
 Newport?" 
 
 "The question of precedent became too involved." 
 
 Weakness. 
 
 POOR weakling! Pensive in the corner there, 
 He runs the gamut of the fancies wild; 
 Clutching within his futile grasp the chair, 
 While men ejaculate, " How like a child!" 
 
 Content with feeble finger-tips to play, 
 To pull his scanty hair or hug his knees. 
 
 With toothless bite he munches all the day, 
 Or mumbles meaningless soliloquies. 
 
 And friendly persons try to humor him 
 
 With nods and smiles and pleasantries inane 
 
 But still he nurtures each caprice and whim. 
 Eccentric as a tempest-veering vane. 
 
 He weeps — and yet knows not for whom. 
 
 He laughs — the reason's not within his ken, 
 And now and then he totters 'cross the room 
 
 For nothing — but to totter back again. 
 
 Alarmed by shadows that about him play. 
 By dreams and unrealities beguiled. 
 
 To-morrow he confounds with yesterday. 
 Dupe of his senses — ah ! how like a child! 
 
 How like the infant actor on the stage 
 
 Of life — his childish grief, his childish glee; 
 
 But people know the reason is his age — 
 To-day he is just one year old, you see. 
 
 WILLIAM P. MCCORalACIC 
 
 News Items. 
 
 AN ACTOR in Joque has a fur-coated tongue. 
 * * An absent-minded dentist in Quoit put gold crowns 
 on the teeth of his saw. 
 
 A paying teller in a bank at Kramp is troubled with 
 two-dollar-billiousness.
 
 Her Highness, the Stenographer Countess 
 
 By M. Worth Colwell 
 
 MR. SPOTZ was running his hands through his hair 
 shampoo-wise because his stenographress had 
 suddenly left. 
 " Ten dozen letters to get out to-day and no chauffeur- 
 lady to run the typewriter! What shall I do?" he ex- 
 claimed. 
 
 Just then a young miss, with kalsomined hair, in a 
 
 n 
 
 -:22^, 
 
 THE/ HArnt/Vof^ 
 
 OVERCOMING OBSTACLES. 
 This kid, having read in the game laws that fishing 
 with more than one rod or pole, held in the hand, was 
 finable, set about to find a way to overcome this obstacle. 
 His remarks on reading the law were, "Gee! dat's dead 
 easy !" 
 
 Fluffy-Ruff-house costume, entered the office, chewing a 
 popular brand of chewing-gum. 
 
 " Need a key-puncher?" was her inquiry. 
 
 Mr. Spotz bade her have a chair. Upon investiga- 
 tion, he learned that she had escaped from Taffy's Big 
 School, where she had learned to talk stenography ($7.59 
 puts you through). 
 
 The young lady was lined up in front of the type- 
 writer and Mr. Spotz began to dictate. She did not take 
 down what he said in shorthand, for he doubted if she 
 could transcribe her own hieroglyphics. In dictating he 
 made an effort to assist her in punctuation. When the 
 letter was finished, it read as follows: 
 
 "Mr. B. A. Gudething, 
 " Hotel Dubb, City. 
 
 " Dear sir: Looking over our leadger comma I notice 
 that in your account don't abbreviate their is an out- 
 standing eyetem of $14.34 in figures comma witch 1 
 thrust you will remit by return male parenthesis as we 
 wish to clothes out all old outstanding accounts period 
 new paragraph. 
 
 " I beg to call 2 your attention the knew line of 
 european goods we are displaying in our windows and 
 show hyphen cases dash a line of goods that will a peal 
 to your good taste full stop next sentence. We have 
 just recieved a large Pareesian Capitol P consignment 
 and have sum bargains at fenominally low prices ex- 
 clamation mark. As the saying goes, quotation marks 
 a word to the wise close quotes that's the end of the sen- 
 tence another paragraph will you not call around two see 
 us at your leezure interrogation point. 
 
 "Trusting to be still favored with your patronidge 
 as in the passed, I remain comma 
 
 " Very resp. yours" 
 
 Cheating the Modern Boswell. 
 
 LIVES of all great men remind us 
 Things that we had best avoid. 
 One is: Not to leave behind us 
 
 Letters that should be destroyed! 
 
 Up-to-date Ads. 
 
 A RESPECTABLE widow desires washing. 
 * Wanted — A servant who can cook and dress chil- 
 dren. 
 
 A VVELL-CHOSEN OCCUPATION. 
 
 " Oi see yure b'y Tommy is sellin' papers, Mrs. Mur- 
 phy. Ain t he young fer it ?" 
 
 " He is thot, Mrs. Casey ; but Oi hod t' give him some- 
 thin' t' do t' kape him off th' shtreets."
 
 The Biography of Bill 
 
 By N. H. Crowell 
 
 AT THE age of two my attention was first directed 
 toward Bill. He had just arrived and was 
 putting up a loud holler for lunch. For one so 
 young. Bill had a fine tenor voice, and the use 
 of it appeared to afford him unusual pleasure — more 
 pleasure than we had, in fact. 
 
 Bill exhibited a marked dislike for me from the be- 
 ginning. I presume this was because I was by long odds 
 the best looking. As I remember Bill at that period, he 
 had a nose about the size and complexion of a canned 
 cherry, and it was suspended midway betwixt a pair of 
 eyes that reminded me of spoiled grapes. I do not re- 
 call noticing Bill's mouth when closed — except once. On 
 that occasion I had been induced by a bribe to insert 
 my finger in Bill's face for the purpose of feeling his 
 new fangs. Bill recognized me during the operation 
 and shut down for keeps, retaining me in a fond em- 
 brace until dad got a screw-driver and made him loosen 
 up his features. I never had as much faith in Bill after 
 that. I imagine he has never placed full trust in me 
 since also, because I 
 have never been able 
 to borrow a dollar 
 from him. , 
 
 Bill grew fast — 
 like a hound - pup. 
 His appetite worked 
 from seven in the 
 morning till the same 
 time next day. As a 
 consequence, he grew 
 big and beefy, and 
 acquired a head like 
 a Hubbard squash. 
 When he was three 
 years of age he made 
 the harrowing discov- 
 ery that I was a miser. 
 I had hoarded up the 
 stupendous sum of a 
 dollar and thirty-seven 
 cents in cold coin. 
 Bill broke that bank, 
 and dissipated its con- 
 tents among his youth- 
 ful friends. I made 
 an attempt to impress 
 upon Bill the enor- 
 mity of his crime, but 
 he grew denser the 
 longer I argued, and 
 the thing ended in the 
 woodshed, with dad 
 enacting the role of 
 the villain, Legree. 
 
 WOULD NEVER DO. 
 
 Mrs. Sinks — " Would you like to come to church with me this 
 morning? You may sit in my pew, if you like." 
 
 Mrs. Jinks — " Sorry, my dear ; but my hat isn't trimmed for that 
 side of the cboicb. " 
 
 Time flew on and it became Bill's turn to visit the 
 woodshed where, in the past, I had shed so many bitter 
 tears to the tune of the rollicking shingle or the lath. 
 It is a bright spot in my memory. I love to dwell upon 
 it. Bill had heaved a marble at the clock, and the 
 marble had knocked time out of the latter. With an 
 instinctive motion dad gathered me in, but my vehement 
 protests finally convinced him that for once he was in 
 error. Reluctantly he released me and formed an at- 
 tachment to Bill. I followed. Being a casual spectator 
 of a scene of that sort was new to me and I expected to 
 enjoy it. It was great — until dad got through with Bill. 
 Then the fun ran right out of it, for dad saw me gloating 
 and he took me in. I received what was left over from 
 Bill. It was quite a lot, too. But it fitted me very 
 well. 
 
 When Bill was five I passed sentence of death upon 
 him. He had sent me a peculiarly cutting valentine, 
 and my sensitive nature would not be satisfied with 
 aught but blood. I met Bill in the yard, and told him 
 
 that I was going to 
 make match safes out 
 of his pelt in less 
 time than it would 
 take a dog to choke 
 on a sandwich. He 
 said he was glad to 
 hear it, as he had 
 been aching to hand 
 me a package for some 
 time, on his own ac- 
 count. We mixed. 
 When we separated. 
 Bill had delivered his 
 package, and I real- 
 ized that I had placed 
 the date of my venge- 
 ance too late in the 
 calendar. 
 
 Perceiving that Bill 
 intended to be a per- 
 manent fixture in the 
 family, I saw that 
 discretion was the bet- 
 ter part of safety, and 
 so formed a union 
 with him in the dis- 
 covery and manufac- 
 ture of our celebrated 
 pain-proof pads. In 
 our household, these 
 articles were a 
 daily necessity, and 
 Bill and I would 
 hook on our pads by
 
 'APRIL SHOWERS 
 
 instinct whenever we sighted dad coming home from 
 work. 
 
 As Bill grew up he manifested a strong leaning to- 
 ward sport. Elderly ladies, who infested our vicinity, 
 made no bones of predicting violent deaths for both of 
 us, although the writer was one of the best boys you 
 ever saw. Couldn't think of anything wicked without 
 getting sick at the stomach. Bill, on the other hand, 
 was a hardened wretch, and was never happier than 
 when facing death in 
 some form or other. 
 He once fell off a forty- 
 foot windmill without 
 sustaining a bruise. It 
 is only fair to state 
 that he fell into a tank- 
 ful of soft water. If 
 it had been hard it 
 would have killed him. 
 
 School was a grisly 
 specter that darkened 
 Bill's early lif«. He 
 regarded it as an evil 
 that was to be avoided 
 whenever possible, and 
 he made it possible 
 about four days per 
 week. Bill got far 
 enough advanced so that 
 he knew that one cat 
 and another cat made 
 one cat-fight, 
 school board 
 hooks into 
 dragged him 
 
 step sideways like a blind 
 horse smelling an automobile 
 dead ahead. Ancient history 
 gave him the nightmare so bad 
 that I refused to speak to him. 
 When Bill peeked into an al- 
 gebra one day his digestion 
 gave completely out, and he 
 accepted a job at the brick- 
 yard, passing hot bricks to a 
 wheelbarrow. 
 
 Bill stuck to the brickyard 
 until he had a complexion like 
 an orang-outang. Then he 
 staked himself out on a farm. 
 Here he did fine— in three 
 years cleaning up almost twen- 
 ty-seven dollars in negotiable 
 cash and securities. 
 
 He then resigned from the 
 farm and came home — to hunt. 
 His rural existence had presented him with large, 
 jagged features and fingers like bananas. His face was 
 tanned the color of an Italian's work-shirt. He had a 
 voice like a bear in a churn. When he laughed, the 
 lamps flickered, the loose change in dad's pocket rattled, 
 and the cows came home. He was as full of fun as a 
 soda fountain is of fizz — and at the same pressure. 
 
 I remember distinctly the time when Bill blew me for 
 a dog. I was not suffering for a dog at all, but when Bill 
 
 BRING MAY FLOWERS." 
 
 Then the 
 got their 
 him, and 
 through 
 two or three rooms by 
 main strength. When 
 he tackled mathematics 
 Bill got thrown hard. 
 Physiology made him 
 
 TOUCHED. 
 
 Mrs. Homespun — "The comic papers say you fellows never work." 
 
 Weary Waffles — " Y-yes'm. De comic papers also says dat mother-in-laws is a nuisance, when 
 everybody knows dat dey are de most sweetest an' angelic uv mortals, an' " 
 
 Mrs. Homespun — " You poor, dear man ! Come right in this minute and I will broil a chicken 
 for you."
 
 had gone to the trouble of con- 
 tracting for the animal, I paid 
 for it without any useless mur- 
 murs. I had a reputation then, 
 and I guarded it earnestly. If I 
 had owned a prophetic eye I 
 would have countermanded that 
 pup at the start. It was my 
 first great error. The trouble 
 that brute caused in, around, 
 and among our family would 
 have made a Mormon mend his 
 ways. 
 
 Bulger, the dog, took a par- 
 ticular dislike to dad, and would 
 make a strenuous attempt to 
 tree him on his return from 
 work. This was hard to do, as 
 dad was built like a Saratoga 
 trunk and hated climbing, and, 
 in addition to that, he was re- 
 markably hard to persuade. By the time dad had 
 kicked Bulger onto the roof of the summer kitchen half 
 a dozen times, the animal saw a great light and yielded 
 to superior force. 
 
 Bulger led a checkered career. He ended it by giving 
 way to temptation. Mother had set out a line of lemon 
 pies to cool. They had lather on them two and a half 
 inches thick, and were things of beauty and a joy for- 
 ever. I have seen dad begin at one edge of one of 
 mother's lemon pies and never draw a breath till he 
 emerged smiling and triumphant at the farther edge. 
 
 Mrs. Henry Peck—" 
 lect my bridge game this 
 
 A FAMILIAR COMPLAINT. 
 Henry, you must get a nurse for these eggs. I simply cannot neg- 
 way." 
 
 He could almost inhale one of those pies. A fellow had 
 to open his jaws till his back hurt, to bite one of those 
 pies, but when he did, it was worth the misery. 
 
 The pies had hardly got acclimated on the back porch 
 when our canine pet sighted them. He jammed his cold, 
 clammy muzzle into pie number one, in an endeavor to 
 learn more of its character and habits. As he drew back 
 to think it over, the froth stuck to his nose, and, in some 
 surprise, Bulger ran out a foot or so of tongue to remove 
 it. As we had not taught him to spit he had to taste it. 
 Tears of joy came into the dog's deep hazel eyes as he 
 
 DEAD, ANYHOW. 
 Rooney—" Yis, Cassidy met wid a violint death. He took a dose av morphane, wint to shlape, an' 
 niver woke up.'" 
 
 Riley — " Do ye call thot violint ?" 
 
 Rooney— "Ws. They pounded th' loife out av th' poor feller thryin' to make him wake !"
 
 did 80. He yearned for more 
 till his hind legs fairly 
 trembled. It was a terrible 
 moment — and Bulger yielded. 
 He scalped those pies with the 
 neatness and dispatch of a Si- 
 oux Indian, and went out back 
 of the barn to take a siesta. 
 
 After a while he woke up 
 and remembered the pies. He 
 started back, hoping mother 
 had planted a fresh row for 
 his benefit. She was just 
 coming out to interview 
 those pies as he came up. 
 She saw him coming — with 
 foam on his chops, and as far 
 back as his ears. The sight 
 nearly scared mother to death, 
 but a hasty glance at the pies 
 reassured her. She picked 
 up a tomato can full of fish- 
 worms belonging to Bill, and, 
 with cruel aim, heaved it at 
 poor Bulger. It missed Bul- 
 ger by a narrow margin of about a rod, and broke two 
 dollars' worth of glass in the hothouse. Bulger shot 
 under the back porch like a shot from a thirteen-inch 
 gun. 
 
 When dad reached home he viewed the pies, and forth- 
 
 «'--i 
 
 PROVERB. 
 "Conceited people are like eggs — too full of 
 themselves to hold anything else." 
 
 with sentenced the animal to 
 death for life. As Bill re- 
 fused to curtail the dog'a 
 happy life, and as dad was too 
 tired to lead the brute out- 
 side of the corporate limits, 
 this sad duty devolved on a 
 neighbor's son. 
 
 Sam Berry took the dog in 
 one hand and a big, round 
 dollar in the other. His in- 
 structions were terse and sig- 
 nificant. He was to come 
 back with no dog. Sam was 
 back in an hour with a mar- 
 row-freezing tale of slaugh- 
 ter. He went into details 
 with such vividness and skill 
 that it nearly broke our 
 hearts. Mother wept, dad 
 sneezed, and Bill wore a face 
 as long as a horse. Sam 
 finally left us alone with our 
 grief — a mighty fortunate 
 thing for him. He had hardly 
 been gone a minute when the rapid patter of doggish 
 feet was heard, and Bulger came up the front walk like 
 a delayed sky-rocket and jumped through the open door 
 right into dad's lap. The shock pushed dad over and 
 broke the back oflp the chair he was assuaging his grief 
 
 IX^i.f-aJt.yi^ . 
 
 A VICTIM TO SYSTEM. 
 Mrs. Handout — "How did you become a tramp?" 
 Weary Willie — " It wuz de ' health magazines, ' lady. I 
 begun takin' long walks fer me appetite, an' pretty soon I 
 wuz good fer nuthin' but de long walks an' de appetite." 
 
 WE POOR HUMANS! 
 Ah, mv dear Mrs. Flamingo, you are so fortunate !'' 
 "Why, how's that, Mrs. Pelican .?" 
 " You never have to ask Mr. Flamingo to button up 
 your dress in the back."
 
 e 
 
 3 
 
 •a 
 
 2^ 
 
 
 3 
 O 
 
 a 
 
 c 
 
 o 
 
 O
 
 on. Bulger then leaped across 
 the table and gave morher a 
 hasty facial massage, yelped a 
 few times in glee, and pounced 
 upon Bill. He was the happiest 
 dog I have ever seen — before or 
 since. Even dad looked pleased 
 — though he gritted his teeth 
 every time he thought of those 
 lemon pies. 
 
 In those early days Bill's 
 clothes were hereditary. Mine 
 were, too, but I will not admit 
 it. When dad finally made up 
 his mind that he had actually 
 worn his clothes as long as his 
 contempt for them would per- 
 mit, they descended by easy 
 stages to Bill and me. The proc- 
 ess of revision was a fearful 
 and wonderful one. The clothes 
 were turned inside out, and as 
 clothes of that period wore a 
 shaggy inner surface. Bill and I 
 used to be garbed like mountain 
 goats. Some of the pants we 
 
 inhabited had hair on, an inch in length. A fellow once 
 touched a match to the fuzz on Bill's breeches, and it took 
 ten of us to put Bin out. After the affair he possessed 
 a burnt-hair odor that made his society very exclusive. 
 
 FISH FIGURES. 
 
 " How many fish did you catch yesterday ?" 
 
 " Forty-eight." 
 
 " Did you eat all three of them ?" 
 
 These trousers were always 
 made on a large scale. Two 
 could get into them with ease 
 and comfort. It was not until 
 Bill began bringing home con- 
 traband pickerel under cover of 
 his huge pants that mother saw 
 the error of her way. If Bill 
 had lugged in a fish across his 
 shoulder, the warden, who lived 
 next door as a precaution, would 
 have nabbed him. But by slit- 
 ting the pickerel's tail and but- 
 toning it over his suspender but- 
 ton, he could tote in twenty 
 pounds of fish, provided the 
 pants remained on. 
 
 Mother changed the situation 
 by cutting a big V-shaped gash 
 in the upper rim of Bill's trou- 
 sers and sewing the gash togeth- 
 er. This puckered Bill up so 
 that he could wear his pants 
 without using suspenders, and 
 he grew quite proud over it. 
 Bill had a blood-curdling ad- 
 venture with those hirsute pants once. He had a girl — 
 also an ice-boat. In constructing the latter, Bill had 
 stolen the sheets from the spare bed to use as a sail. 
 This crime was not discovered until mother accused the 
 
 
 AS GOOD AS THE BEST OF THEM. 
 ' Oh, I don't luiow. She ain't got anything on me 1"
 
 presiding elder of the theft, and Bill manfully opened 
 his heart and confessed. 
 
 Bill invited the girl to go ice-yotting — some spell it 
 yacht, but I can't. She was tickled to death to go, and 
 Bill tucked her in snugly and then wedged himself into 
 what space she didn't make use of. He was wearing his 
 hairiest pants and he fitted the yacht like a new boot does 
 a bunion. 
 
 The boat behaved well, and as Bill was a natural-born 
 sailor he fairly dazzled the girl by the style in which he 
 handled it. In due time, however, the girl hinted that 
 her folks usually had supper about six, and Bill woke up. 
 He commenced to crawl out of 
 his corner. Then he hesitated 
 and looked at the girl in an 
 alarmed manner. He started 
 again, and again glanced idiot- 
 ically at the girl. He then felt 
 around critically with his hand. 
 The chilly truth was out — his 
 shaggy trousers had frozen fast 
 to the yacht. In the words of 
 Old Sleuth, "He was a prisoner 
 — facing he knew not what." 
 
 The sad intelligence gradu- 
 ally percolated to the girl and 
 seemed to amuse her greatly. 
 Bill advised her to run on home 
 and send down the fire com- 
 pany or the police, but she 
 flatly refused. She said he 
 had brought her there and he 
 had to take her home. 
 Bill relapsed into painful thought, and could feel him- 
 self growing closer and tighter to the planks every 
 moment. At last, with a rosy blush, which was half- 
 concealed by the pale light of the setting sun, he ex- 
 
 A GENIUS. 
 
 De Style — "Einstein h 
 a very inventive pro- 
 moter." 
 
 Gunbuita—" VJhut has 
 he been doing now ?" 
 
 De Style— '^ Says there 
 is lots of money in it for 
 the man who can put up 
 the bridge jam in subway 
 jars." 
 
 HensIek;. 
 
 TOO DRASTIC. 
 
 "I see by the paper, ma, that a boy assassin has been 
 hanged." 
 
 "Wa-al, a sassin' boy is a great trial, but I don't think 
 thet he ought ter be hanged fer it." 
 
 tracted his jackknife and set to work. If memory serves 
 me right, the girl responded gamely to the call of neces- 
 sity, and assisted at critical stages of the operation. 
 At length Bill stood— or, rather, sat — free. From then 
 on history is inaccurate or fragmentary, and the present 
 writer reluctantly chronicles his entire ignorance of the 
 facts. Bill's wife — who v/as the girl in the case — has 
 never mentioned it. 
 
 WHEN a woman attends a handkerchief sale, it is 
 probably because she wants to blow in something. 
 
 STUDIES OF A GENTLEMAN GIVING SOME GOOD-NATURED ADVICE TO HIS NEIGHBOR.
 
 A i fix^f 
 
 c< 
 
 SUBURBAN ADVANTAGES. 
 
 First suburbanile — "You were not at the church 
 sociable last night. What was the matter?" 
 
 Second suburbanite — " Got carried past my station, 
 and couldn't get a train back till it was too late." 
 
 First suburbanite — " Ah ! reading again ?" 
 
 Second suburbanite — " Naw I Trying to explain 
 the benefits of living in the suburbs to a city man." 
 
 The Ameizon Mountains. 
 
 ^lATHEN I was going to school," said the prominent 
 •' man, willingly contributing his share to the 
 symposium of boyhood recollections, " it was up in Can- 
 ada, and the examinations at the end of each term were 
 oral instead of written. The teacher would arrange the 
 class on benches before him, ask the boys questions in 
 turn, and when a boy couldn't answer tae question he 
 had to get up from his bench and go and stand against 
 the wall. 
 
 " During one examination the teacher asked us, ' What 
 great range of mountains is in South America? 
 
 " The first boy shook his head in despair, got up and 
 stood against the wall. The second boy stammered for 
 a moment, then he too got up and went to the wall. 
 The next boy did the same thing. By that time confu- 
 sion had hold of the class, and the other boys arose in 
 one-two-three order and marched to the wall. As I saw 
 my turn approaching — I was about the last boy to be 
 expected to answer — I became rattled. For my life I 
 couldn't concentrate my thoughts enough to recp'.l the 
 name of that mountain range, and, finally, completely 
 demoralized, I found myself unconsciously rising and 
 going to the wall. Not a boy in the class could think of 
 the name of that mountain range. 
 
 " Yet I knew perfectly well then, as anybody knows, 
 that it was the Amazon Mountains." 
 
 HELP, HELP! 
 First apple — "Say, feUo\fs! that giil over there is a 
 core-US girl." 
 
 Playing Safe. 
 
 A MATEUR, holding five aces, leans over to profes- 
 sional poker player and whispers, " Billie, how 
 would you play that hand?" 
 
 Professional replies, " My boy, if I were you I think 
 I'd play under an assumed name." 
 
 Jokes. 
 
 THE jokes that a fellow 
 Remembers are yellow 
 With age — really century pets; 
 But the true bull's-eye hitters, \ 
 
 The dandy side-splitters. 
 
 Are those that he always forgets. 
 
 Professm — " And then, Mr. Sharp, what happened 
 after Alexander the Great died?" 
 
 Student (solemnly) — " He was buried." 
 
 
 5.«;&: ^;^);^<;l^S«i«iS&>i.iCi%^?h^ii^' 
 
 TURN DOWN THE LIGHT. 
 She — " Yes, dear ; if you insist you may catch a few of 
 those fireflies. I admit the light is a strain to my eyes."
 
 Sir Galahad and the Balloon He Had 
 
 How the Great Knight Met Wondrous Adventure at the Castle of Maidens 
 
 By M. Worth Colwell 
 
 ANON, saith the tale, Sir Galahad did make amends 
 upon his balloon so that he might fly again and 
 kill the sky monster, as he was avowed, and make 
 good. For sith the airship had been rebuilden and fulled 
 with eighty-cent gas, it was marvel for to see and of 
 great prowess. 
 
 Then came much good knights of the Table Round 
 unto Sir Galahad, among the which were Sir Bors de 
 Ganis, Sir Dodinas le Sauvage, Sir Palomides, Sir Teddy- 
 bear, and many others. And so when the fellowship 
 were come they made passing good cheer, and Sir Teddy- 
 bear said to Sir Galahad, 
 " What adventure seek ye 
 now, fair knight? For it 
 would to look goodily to us were 
 ye to make a splendorous as- 
 cending." 
 
 " Ye speak well, forsooth, 
 good sirs," answered Sir Gal- 
 ahad, as he did lean up against 
 a live wire, for to rest and 
 ease him. "To-day an I do 
 not meet with a sky dragon, 
 who perchance may send my 
 balloon all-to-rive, I shall hie 
 me up high and off to the 
 Castle of Maidens, which the 
 same is many leagues afar." 
 
 " Dost know whence iieth 
 the Castle of Maidens?" asked 
 Sir Palomides, whilst he fixt 
 his coat of Mail, for it was 
 Special Delivery Limited Mail. 
 
 " Nay, no force and no mat- 
 ter, but I will away and dis- 
 cover it, wheresoever it be. 
 Leave it to muh !" answered 
 the aero errant knight, scratch- 
 ing his armor for to take the itch 
 from out of it; for knights 
 did much strange adventures 
 then betimes, for those were 
 the happy days and happy 
 knights. 
 
 So Sir Galahad did start up 
 hia balloon, and it did rise, 
 even as an yeast cake, and all 
 the knights did cheer and all 
 the noblesse of the court eke 
 did shout, and the Common 
 Peepul did peep. So the brave 
 knight did sail, and when he 
 had ridden much he saw in a 
 valley before him a castle with 
 deep ditches and moats, and 
 
 there ran beside a fair river which height Severn, and 
 the warders who, perchance, did ofttimes shoot crap- 
 pings, would call out, "Come a Severn!" Then Sir 
 Galahad met with a man of great ancientage, and he 
 asked him what was the castle's name. 
 
 "Fair sir," said the old man, "it is the Castle of 
 Maidens, and it hath an huge wall, so that none may 
 escale it. Sir Knight, if ye do, ye will ride therein to 
 great folly, for ye have this ditch water to pass over." 
 
 " What care I for dish water?" asked the kright. " I 
 will abut me into the place." 
 
 THOSE DEAR GIBLS! 
 I am going to have my photos taken. I hopt they will do me justict*' 
 1 hope so, too — justice tempered with mercy."
 
 < 
 
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 -S WS bjn ""^ 
 
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 fl) rt • •-• «kj t!l rt o 
 
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 • e: ^ ^ f*^ ^ 
 
 OJ)' 
 a; c , 
 
 11
 
 HARD AND FAST. 
 Pat — "It ain't twilve yit, Moike. Thot, clock's fast. " 
 Mike — "Shure, an'Oi know thot. Ef it worn' t fast, be- 
 gorra ! the dommed thing wud fall down on yer hid !" 
 
 Then came from the castle seven knights, all of them 
 brethren, and called out, " Knight, keep thee, for we 
 do assure thee nothing but death !" 
 
 " Ha!" laughed Sir Galahad. " Will ye all have to 
 
 do with me at once? Take that then, and that, and that, 
 and that; and when ye be asked, say that a good knight 
 gave it to yuh!" So saying, he whizzed his airship into 
 their middest, laying out three of them. Then the 
 brothers did assail him main hard with spears and smote 
 the balloon great strokes, so that their spears break. 
 But Sir Galahad hit them upon the heads with an auxil- 
 iary wind-jammer, and nigh broke their necks, so that 
 they did flee. 
 
 Then went Sir Galahad into the castle, and there 
 were full twoscore damsels standing. 
 
 "Good-morrow, fair knight," said they, "for thou 
 hast rescued us from the false knights who shutted us in 
 the gaol." " 
 
 " How came ye hither?" asked Sir Galahad. 
 
 Then spake a tall one, " Know ye not that we are the 
 ' Moonlight Maid Burlesquers ' that did to strand, for we 
 are chorus gentlewomen and our parents were all rich 
 but honest. And ye have slain all our low comedians." 
 Then they did all knock wood, for he had slain all the 
 low comedians. 
 
 Whereupon, after bravely rescuing the damsels, Sir 
 Galahad flew in a jiffy back to his press representative 
 for to get some illustrated specials in the Sunday Sup- 
 plements. 
 
 Binks — " My sister is coming out this spring." 
 Winks — " How long was she sent up for?" 
 
 THE OBJECT. 
 "I've got one of my sons learning the comet and the other the fiddle ; one daughter studying the piano 
 and the other plays the flute ; while to top it all off, my wife has started taking singing lessons." 
 " My gracious ! is your family as musical as all that ?" 
 " No ; but there's a vacant lot next to our place, and we don't want anybody to build on it"
 
 A Few Guesses on Women. 
 
 /^NE SHOULD analyze neither the looka nor the 
 ^^ mind of a beauty. 
 
 The naked truth makes every one who sees it bluali 
 for very shame. 
 
 Cynicism is merely idealism turned sour. 
 
 The penalty of getting the woman you want is that 
 you must keep her. 
 
 One should be just as careful about lying as about 
 telling the truth. 
 
 When a man begins to write for money, he stops 
 reading for pleasure. 
 
 In a high wind it is the oldest, ugliest, and leanest 
 women who endeavor hardest to hold their skirts down. 
 
 Celibacy has the advantage of involving submission 
 to the wants and wishes of a single tyrant. 
 
 To women love is an occupation ; to men a preoccupa- 
 tion. 
 
 Anxious son — " What does ' chicanery ' mean, fa- 
 ther?" 
 
 Father — " A place where they can chickens, of 
 course." 
 
 Ready for Him. 
 'pHE DIGNIFIED president of a well-known and 
 * flourishing New England college, in his moments 
 of relaxation, tells the following story at his own ex- 
 pense : 
 
 One summer, some years ago, he spent a vacation of 
 several weeks at a farmhouse in a Maine town. The next 
 season he received a letter from his former boarding 
 mistress, inquiring if he would like to return. 
 
 In reply he stated that he would be very glad to pass 
 another summer vacation with her, provided some needed 
 changes were made about the place. 
 
 "First," wrote the college president, "your maid 
 Mary is persona non grata, being anything but neat and 
 
 APRIL WEATHER. 
 "XhU shower bath, with music, is certainly a fine institutioa" 
 
 HIS BEREAVED MEMBER. 
 " Binks's best girl is dead." 
 '"Is he going to wear mourning?" 
 "Just on his arm.'' 
 
 orderly in her ways, and if she is still with you I trust 
 you will at least not allow her to wait on the table. 
 
 " Secondly, I would suggest that the sanitary condi- 
 tions on your place would be greatly improved if the 
 pigsty were moved back a few rods farther from the 
 house or done away with altogether. 
 
 " I will wait until I hear from you before deciding 
 about coming." 
 
 The somewhat particular college president was reas- 
 sured by the receipt of the following reply : 
 
 " Mary has went. We hain't had no hogs on the place 
 since you was here last summer. Be sure and come." 
 
 A Mich. Wish. 
 
 A HOMESICK young angler from Mich. 
 Sadly said, " How I wish I could fich. 
 In a Mich, brook 
 And once more have the cook 
 Serve a Mich, fich in a dich. 
 
 Well Matched. 
 
 «i OHE is going to marry a duke. You know she in- 
 
 *^ herited fifty millions." 
 
 "It's tainted." 
 
 " Well, so is the duke. "
 
 How He Squared Himself. 
 
 «i IJOTTEN!" involuntarily exclaimed Higgins at the 
 ^^ play- "I beg your pardon," he said to the 
 startled man in the next seat, thinking possibly he was 
 a friend of the actor. " I'm always saying something 
 to hurt some one's feelings; but I assure you I was not 
 referring to the star — merely his lines." 
 
 " Oh, don't-worry about me," he replied. " I'm only 
 the man who wrote the play." 
 
 In Her Name. 
 
 <( /^AN YOU tell me who lives here?" inquired the 
 
 ^^ postman of the new tenant. 
 
 "Well," sighed Mr. Henry Peck — for it was none 
 other — " if it comes to that, I guess you must mean my 
 wife." 
 
 CAUTIOUS. 
 
 "Are ye the injineer o' this train ?" 
 
 "Yes, ma'am." 
 
 " Well, I want t' introdoose ye t' my son, Caleb, who's 
 goin' up t' Berlceley with ye ; he's goin' t' college there, an' I 
 want ye should go reel slow an' careful till ye get there, becuz 
 he s goin' t' be a missionary t' the heathen." 
 
 TAKE THE NEXT TRAIN. 
 Irate hostess—" Do you suffer from cold feet, Mr. Stand- 
 
 around ? ' 
 
 Mr. Standaround—" \ do not." 
 
 Irate hostess — "Then unwrap them, please, at once.'' 
 
 Submarine Finance. 
 
 THERE was an ancient mariner. 
 For threescore years and ten 
 He'd worked upon a submarine 
 
 Until the proud day when 
 He'd viewed his warlike craft complete. 
 The happiest of men. 
 
 The government inspectors came 
 
 And marveled greatly o'er 
 The wonderful invention that 
 
 Was moored down by the shore. 
 The old inventor glowed with pride 
 
 And dreamed of wealth galore. 
 
 They sped across the ocean's foam. 
 
 "The men began to think 
 This craft the great problem had solved. 
 
 Its wonders made them blink — 
 In fact, it would do anything 
 
 Required of it but — sink. 
 
 The old man was no financier; 
 
 His purse was not rotund. 
 He'd just enough to float his craft. 
 
 But not a cent beyond. 
 You see, he'd been unable to 
 
 Provide a sinking fund. 
 
 ROY K. MOtlLTON. 
 
 Consolation. 
 
 WANTED — By a young man recently rejected, apart- 
 ments adjoining those of a young married couple 
 possessed of a baby that cries all night, causing the 
 father to promenade in robe de nuit; good, loud swearer 
 preferred. 
 
 It Would Crowd Him. 
 
 ti OIMPKINS refuses to have his flat papered," re- 
 ^ ported the agent of the building. 
 " What's the matter now?" inquired the owner. 
 " He claims they haven't room enough as it ifl."
 
 The Discontented Lobster 
 
 By Ellis Oliver Jones 
 
 ONCE there was a lobster who sat in his lobster bed 
 and sighed. His limitations chafed him; and 
 especially when he thought of the bright-red 
 coats of lobsters he had heard about in sharp contrast to 
 his own somber-hued garb, his contempt for the local 
 tailors knew no bounds. 
 
 " I'm going away from he-ah," he announced finally. 
 He had acquired the accent from a lobster who had lately 
 come among them, and who had once belonged in the 
 preserves of an English lord. 
 
 " Going away?" questioned his mother dramatically. 
 
 " Yes. I am tired hanging round here. I want to 
 get into the swim." 
 
 "You're in the swim now," observed his little 
 brother, who was also the village joker. 
 
 " I am speaking figuratively, gillie," retorted the dis- 
 satisfied one. " I'm going to New York." 
 
 " You'll be in the soup there, and that's no figure of 
 speech," returned his brother. 
 
 Ignoring this last witticism, the dissatisfied one con- 
 
 tinued, " I'm tired of these old clothes and the rest of 
 the has-beens around this town. New York is the place 
 for me." 
 
 "This is a pretty kettle of fish," said his mother 
 feebly. 
 
 " I want to hobnob with the big bugs at the swell 
 hotels," he went on. 
 
 " It's plain to be seen that you are indeed a lobster — 
 a regular chip off the old block," said his mother. She 
 tried her best to dissuade him from his purpose, but in 
 vain. The next time the lobster fishermen came around 
 the young man departed. 
 
 But it happened that, on the way to New York, he 
 got into a fight and lost one of his claws. Being thus 
 imperfect, he never got farther north than Fourteenth 
 Street, and ended his days on a Bowery free-lunch counter. 
 
 Moral — New York is a big place. 
 
 MAN in Petuna drank gasoline by mistake, 
 instead of coughing, he honks. 
 
 Now, 
 
 " YES, SIR-REE, HOOK AND ALL, AND HE WAS EVERY INCH OF TWO FEET I"
 
 SERVING HIM RIGHT. 
 
 Clancy (down and out) — "Thot settles it ! Me cup av [sorrow is 
 
 an' it isn't ! Will ye hov wan or two 
 
 filled t' th' brim ! 
 
 Mrs. Clancy— " ¥a.\\\i 
 lumps ?" 
 
 sap runs like it does this spring, and, I'll tell 
 you, I've seen thousands of 'em!" 
 
 Austin C. Williams, Westville, Ind. 
 
 THE DOCTOR KNEW. 
 
 OATRICK O'ROURKE, an Irishman, had the 
 misfortune one day of falling from the 
 second story of a house just being completed. 
 Mike Flaherty, the foreman, saw him fall and 
 immediately called an ambulance, which in due 
 course of time arrived. The surgeon gave one 
 glance toward Pat's still form and said, " He's 
 dead." 
 
 Pat, who was just coming to, heard him, 
 and, rising to a sitting posture, replied, 
 " You're a liar! I ain't!" Mike was standing 
 close by, and took hold of Pat gently, saying, 
 " Lay down, Pat! The doctor knows better!" 
 Charles R. Heyler, New York, N. Y. 
 
 NOT FINISHED. 
 
 ^XNCE on a time a lonely little boy began praying to 
 ^^ the Lord to send him a haby brother. Regularly 
 every night, before retiring, he got down on his knees 
 and offered up his petition. Finally he suggested that 
 he had waited a long time, and hoped the Lord would 
 hurry up matters. 
 
 In a few days the " little broth- 
 er " arrived. Looking at the baby 
 a little bit, the " lonely little boy " 
 said, "Gee! He's a great looking 
 thing! Can't talk, can't walk, 
 ain't got any hair, and he ain't got 
 any teeth — he ain't finished ! Wish 
 I hadn't been in such a darn 
 hurry!" 
 
 J. C. Eddingfield, 
 
 New Ross, Ind. 
 
 EXPERIENCE ENOUGH. 
 
 A FEW days ago, while visiting 
 a near-by maple sugar camp, 
 I heard the following conversation 
 between one of the employes and 
 another onlooker: 
 
 " How's the sap runnin' this 
 year, Jim?" 
 
 "Oh, fairly well." 
 
 " 'Bout how much do you cal'ate 
 you'll get?" 
 
 " Well, I reckon, from the way 
 the sap's runnin' now, we'd ought 
 to get three hundred and fifty gal- 
 lon." 
 
 " That's more'n you got last 
 year, ain't it? How do you 'count 
 for that?" 
 
 "Well, sir, I'll tell you, I've 
 never seen a spring yet where the 
 
 FLATTENED HIM. 
 
 First chauffeur — " Have you seen anything 
 of old Speeder lately?" 
 Second ditto — "Yep; ran across him on Broadway 
 
 to-day." 
 
 PICKED UP IN THE STREETT. 
 
 Seaver — " I see the market is pickin' up." 
 
 Weaver — " You bet! Picked up all I had last week." 
 
 mm^sussn^^^^y 
 
 A RACING TERM— "THE FINAL HEAT."
 
 HARD LINES. 
 He fondly loved a poetess, 
 
 And always ran to greet her. 
 He liked to scan her loveliness, 
 
 And often tried to meter. 
 Though he, too, tried to poetize, 
 
 She did not care to win him. 
 His shuffling feet did she despise. 
 
 And fled the discord in him ! n. m. l. 
 
 Inherited. 
 
 Weigle — " Judging from the vigorous crowing of your 
 young rooster, he can whip everything else in the coop." 
 
 Ashley — "He can't, though; he's too much like his 
 mother — full of hot air. You know, she's an incubator." 
 
 Anxious for His He&lth. 
 
 Arctic explorer's wife — " Good-by, John, dear!" 
 Arctic explorer — " Farewell, my love!" 
 Arctic explorer's wife — " And, John, be sure that the 
 ice is perfectly safe." 
 
 (< ¥ TELL you I must have some money!" roared the 
 King of Maritana, who was in sore financial 
 straits. " Somebody will have to cough up." 
 
 "Alas!" sighed the guardian of the treasury, who 
 was formerly court jester, " all our coffers are empty." 
 
 The Reason. 
 
 I'VE run a bit with Beatrice and chased around with 
 Bess— 
 I've had a case on both of them, I may as well confess; 
 I've whispered airy nothings in the pearly ear of Nell, 
 And told a tale of eloquence to Betty and to Belle; 
 I've hit the high and toppy poir.ta with Sarah and with 
 
 Sue, 
 And swung to subtle symphonies with Prissy and with 
 
 Prue; 
 I've builded castles in the air, assisted, some, by Nan, 
 And. trolled my moonlight serenades to Dora and to Fan; 
 I've sworn eternal constancy to Dolly, Tess, and Fay, 
 And jollied quite a jolly lot with Mabel and with May; 
 I've turned a double trick at hearts while playing whist 
 
 with Pearl, 
 And hypnotized Miss Cynthia with, "Just one little 
 
 girl!" 
 I would have married each and all^and that's a-going 
 
 some! 
 But — darn their unpoetic souls — they all chewed gum ! 
 
 STACY E. BAKER. 
 
 A LITERARY hack is not the best vehicle of expression. 
 
 HER REFLECTION.
 
 firr. 
 
 (sir ■ 
 
 f^ 2 
 
 ►4 
 ►J 
 < 
 
 h 
 
 o 
 o 
 
 H 
 S 
 
 s 
 
 o 
 o 
 h
 
 Who Wouldn't? 
 
 AHMED AL MAHRAD, ruler of Mezrah, sat in 
 kingly silence on his jewel-incrusted throne. As 
 was the custom with his forefathers, he had an- 
 nounced two days before that a basin of silver and gold 
 would be awarded to the subject who bestowed the great- 
 est boon on mankind; and the hour drew nigh for the 
 award. A trumpet sounded, and those who craved the 
 royal favor filed in. 
 
 " Begin!" thundered the king; and the foremost in 
 the line stepped forward. 
 
 " Oh, Son of the Stars, I have allowed myself to pre- 
 pare, after much labor, a wine, one draught of which 
 will prevent one from talking in his sleep. For married 
 men " 
 
 " Enough!" interrupted the king. "You have done 
 well. Thy name shall be handed down to posterity, and 
 a graven stone shall be set up to you in the public place." 
 
 " Oh, Son of the Stars," the second aspirant began, 
 " I am one skilled in medicine and surgery, and after 
 years of experimenting I have found that a simple opera- 
 tion, when performed on the brain of a female child, 
 absolutely prevents all desire for superfluous frills and 
 fineries, gossiping and " ■ 
 
 " Well done, my son," broke in the king. " You are 
 a worthy son of a worthy father, and your name shall br> 
 borne on the wings to the uttermost parts of the earth, 
 and praises will be on men's lips for ages to come." 
 
 
 " Oh, Son of the Stars," began the third seeker after 
 fortune, " I am a lover of mankind, and delight in bring- 
 ing peace and happiness to all. I have here a little con- 
 trivance so small as would lie in the hollow of your 
 hand, but which will absolutely prevent pajamas from 
 rolling up into a thousand and one knots during the 
 night, and " 
 
 " Enough! enough!" shouted the king, forgetting his 
 kingly dignity for the moment. "Enough! The prize 
 is his!" 
 
 And the people echoed his words, " The prize is his!" 
 
 As Advertised 
 
 i( ^Af HAT'S your time?" asked the old farmer of the 
 
 brisk salesman. 
 " Twenty minutes after five. 
 
 What can I do for 
 
 you?" 
 
 " I want them pants," said the old farmer, leading 
 the way to the window and pointing at a ticket marked 
 " Given away at 5.10." 
 
 While He Waits. 
 
 FAREWELL to bird and bottle, play and dance! 
 Yon holy man will guide her thoughts above. 
 Yet, see! she casts one long, regretful glance 
 To where he stands, her first and only love. 
 
 Lent lilies fade and spring has bloom, and then 
 Monsieur the Devil has his own again. 
 
 ••<i%.- 
 
 MC^»eeniNa» 
 
 THE LABOR QUESTION— BOTH SIDES OF IT.
 
 Giving! and Forgiving. 
 
 HE GAVE her a kiss very brave- 
 ly, and then, 
 Because she seemed shocked at 
 his daring. 
 He took it all back like the meekest 
 of men — • 
 His act by reaction repairing. 
 Such sign of repentance could not 
 be ignored — 
 From further compunction to 
 save him. 
 His kiss of contrition she fully re- 
 stored, 
 And for giving the first she 
 forgave him. p. moxon. 
 
 My New Inventions. 
 
 SINCE I sold my last invention (at a price too high to mention) 
 I have felt ambition stirring in the region of my soul, 
 And some marvelous creations, fit for women of all stations, 
 
 I have fashioned without erring and now oflier sound and whole. 
 
 I've an Introduction Getter which is warranted to fetter 
 Any interesting fellow in the twinkling of an eye; 
 
 And a new Magnetic Thriller with a Hot-air Gush Instiller 
 
 Which will make the heartstrings mellow and ensnare them 
 by and by. 
 
 I've a Wordless Wealth Computer and a Lipless Love Transmuter 
 And a Male Affection Holder that is warranted O. K. 
 
 Then my Sympathy Inciter will make passion flame the brighter, 
 And my Pseudo Form Enfolder start caresses on their way. 
 
 I've a delicate gyrator that I call a Love Equator, 
 
 Which will register the fever when it's at its highest clip; 
 
 And a wonderful Elixir called the Fast Delusion Fixer, 
 
 And a Sign and Seal Deceiver which will circumvent a slip. 
 
 I've a Confidence Creator and a Dope Investigator, 
 
 Which will satisfy each question that a relative might ask. 
 
 And my Wedding Bell Desirer is constructed to inspire a 
 
 Sudden form of indigestion which takes lovers all to task. 
 
 Then my Happy Home Retainer, or the Mutual Explainer, 
 
 Will be counted as a treasure in the family, of course; 
 
 And the last of my inventions which this advertisement mentions 
 Is my Instantaneous Measure for a Lawyer-less Divorce. 
 
 LAURNA W. SHELDON. 
 
 Recipe. 
 
 IJICK out a smalli 
 vacant corner 
 lot. Scatter around 
 small boys, prefer- 
 ably barefooted and 
 with big toes tied 
 up. Add a twine 
 ball, several bats, 
 one broken and 
 wrapped with wire, 
 three or four yellow 
 dogs strolling aloof, 
 and a brindle cow 
 grazing with indif- 
 ferent attitude in 
 the corner of the 
 lot. Stir up well. 
 Fill the air with 
 cries of " You're [ 
 out!" " I touched 
 
 J Hl'*c-.i.f.^. 
 
 WOW! 
 
 What yer got all yer war paint on 
 
 "Hello, Crowsfeet ! 
 fer.' Goin' ter meet yer other girl 
 
 " No; I'm goin ' ter meet her other man !" 
 
 yer!" "You're 
 another!" "I'm 
 goin' home!" "Aw, 
 
 whatchermatterwidyer?" "Never come widin a mile!" "Butter-fingers!" 
 " Whatcherwantdothatfer?" " 01' fraidy cat!" Have the yellow dogs en- 
 gage in a fight, the brindle cow break her tether and gallop hurriedly down 
 the street. At this point the twine ball should smash old man Peters'a 
 grocery-store window. The appearance of old man Peters will serve as frost- 
 ing. Place in the hot sun on a summer's afternoon and label " The National 
 Game." john matter. 
 
 The Modern Education. 
 
 <t T SHOULD never have thought that studying would have cost so much 
 money." 
 " Yes, father; and if you only knew how little I have studied."
 
 HE OUGHT TO KNOW. 
 Mrs. Hens — "Jest look here, John ! I've found a ten-cent piece in this chicken's craw." 
 Mr. Hens — " Wa-al, thet makes one authentic case, an' the fust I ever knowed, whar there 
 wuz money in chickens." 
 
 Everybody Swears by Him. 
 
 *« TATHO'S the best-known man in this township?" 
 ' queried the advance agent for the medicine 
 
 show. 
 
 "Well, young feller," answered Uncle Silas Seaver 
 slowly, as he carefully packed the tobacco in his black 
 pipe, "Jake Seymour holds that record about now, by 
 eatin' the fust new potatoes from his own garden, tho' 
 Hank Calkins is a close second with his new peas. Aunt 
 Sarah Stanton is attractin' considerable attention with 
 her flock of eighteen light brahmas, with an egg record 
 of twelve dozen in eight days, the same bein' writ up in 
 the Smithville Banner. An' Wallis Weaver's buildin' a 
 new hip-roof barn. But I guess, everything considerin', 
 Squire Hamilton's about the most popular man about 
 these parts now. Everybody seems to swear by the 
 squire, seein's he's jest been elected assessor." 
 
 Great Need. 
 
 OH, THAT some Burbank of the West 
 Would patent, make, and sell 
 An onion with an onion taste — 
 But with a violet smell. 
 
 «« 
 
 The Race Is to the Fleet. 
 
 I^HIS is what you call welcoming the fleet," mur- 
 * mured the hundred-yard sprinter, as he breasted 
 the tape in eight and four-fifths seconds, amid the ap- 
 plause of the multitude. 
 
 The end of failures is ofttimes the end of success. 
 
 TREASURED HIS LIFE. 
 Doctor (to attempted suicide)—" You may sit up now." 
 Suicide— "I know, doctor; but I don't want to do anything 
 to endanger my health. ' '
 
 HcNCUfi 
 
 GOOD IDEA. 
 
 Hairless Heiiery — "Can you suggest anything to nourish 
 my hairf" 
 
 i/«(r/<^" Develop your brains a bit and the roots will have 
 something to feed on." 
 
 The Occupant in the Rear. 
 
 <t ¥S THERE a young lady by the name of Evans liv- 
 
 * ing in this house?" inquired the strange woman 
 of the timid-appearing man at the front door. 
 
 " Yes," returned he, with a suddenly respectful and 
 serious demeanor. " She occupies the rear of this house, 
 so you'd best step round to the rear door and knock 
 gently, ma'am." 
 
 " I did; but no one answered." 
 
 " Ah, then, didn't you notice a sign on the door in the 
 shape of a neat placard?" asked the man, in tones of 
 awe and admiration. 
 
 "Yes. The placard said, ' Out.'" 
 
 " Then she's out. That's her sign, ma'am." 
 
 " Do you know when she will return?" 
 
 "No; we never know that, ma'am. In fact, she 
 comes and goes whenever she takes the notion, and 
 wants none to interfere with her doings or habits in any 
 way, shape, or manner, ma'am." 
 
 " She's rather a mysterious and independent sort of 
 person, I take it." 
 
 " Well, rather. You see, ma'am, she's our cook!" 
 
 A Problem in Division. 
 
 Foreman — " How many av yez are down thot hole?" 
 
 Laborers — " Three." 
 
 Foreman — " The half av yez come up." 
 
 HENaif/^ 
 
 Rondeau. 
 
 THE RUMOR ran, not long ago. 
 That he had come to be my beau. 
 The gossips shook their heads and talked 
 If on a Sabbath out we walked 
 And through the parkways ambled slow. 
 
 'Propinquity," they said, you know. 
 I knew that if he heard he'd go. 
 And though I at the gossips mocked. 
 The rumor ran. 
 
 So now I sit alone, for no 
 Tobacco smoke I smell below ; 
 No creak of chair when forth he rocked. 
 The room is bare, the door is locked; 
 I've lost my rent, my money's low. 
 The roomer ran I 
 
 AURELIA D. HOWELLS. 
 
 These Realistic Babes. 
 
 XAf ILLIE was decidedly realistic and so very fond of 
 ' ' hearing Bible stories read aloud that, as soon as 
 
 he could read, his aunty gave him a copy of the Bible 
 
 written especially for children. 
 
 Not long afterward he was heard howling in despair. 
 
 Every one ran to see what had happened. They found 
 
 him with his new Bible open. 
 
 " Willie, Willie, tell us what is the matter!" 
 
 " M-M-Moses is dead ! And God buried him! A-and 
 
 n-no man knows w-where h-his b-bones are t-to th-this 
 
 day!" 
 
 THE LION AND THE LAMB SHALL LIE DOWN 
 TOGETHER! 
 
 H emcLer , 
 
 THOSE CLEVER STOREKEEPERS. 
 
 The child— "Say, maw, how did that storekeeper know 
 you was from the country ?'' 
 
 Ma--M — " Heaven only knows ! It must have been my 
 accent''
 
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 More Intelligent Than He Looked 
 
 By J, Bradley Vandaworker 
 
 THE GUIDE connected with the hotel came round 
 the corner, mounted the steps of the veranda 
 with awkward strides, and lounged against a 
 post. He was a lean, lank Greene County 
 youth from Big Hollow, with a hatchet face and a lantern 
 jaw. Blinking his sleepy eyes, he addressed us, 
 
 " I don't reckon you want to climb no mountains to- 
 day?" 
 
 "Not unless there's a clear sky," said I. " What are 
 the prospects?" 
 
 "Well, I guess ther' ain't none, " he said, shifting 
 his weight to the other foot. " I've most always no- 
 ticed," he drawled, " that when it starts in with such a 
 measly drizzle so early on an April mornin', ther' ain't 
 no lettin' up till the moon comes out." 
 
 Charley Moore, with a wink at the others, dryly re- 
 marked, 
 
 " Yes, that's so. I've noticed the moon never shines 
 when it rains." 
 
 Apparently it was lost on 
 the guide. 
 
 " Do you ever see any 
 bear in the mountains?" I 
 asked, handing him a cigar. 
 
 "Thank yo', sir. Yes, 
 ther' be some bear. 1 most 
 always smoke a pipe, 'cept- 
 in' on Sundays." Throw- 
 ing one leg over the back 
 of a chair, he slouched back 
 against the post in drowsy 
 contentment. 
 
 Ben Teal, looking for 
 amusement, finally ap- 
 proached him. " Any snakes 
 in these parts?" 
 
 " None to mention, now. 
 Used to be," he answered, 
 evidently not to be drawn 
 into conversation. 
 
 Then one snake story fol- 
 lowed another, each member 
 of the party trying to outdo 
 the other. Occasionally the 
 guide partly opened his 
 eyes and ejaculated, "Land 
 sakes!" 
 
 When Charley Moore told 
 a tale that put us all to 
 shame, the Big Hollow youth 
 showed deeper interest and 
 sxclaimed, "Well, I never! 
 Looked like a grapevine 
 hangin' in a tree?" 
 
 " Yes, sir," replied Charley. 
 " How long did you say it was?" 
 "Twenty feet and three inches," boldly answered 
 Charley. " And six inches thick," he added, seeing the 
 astonishment of the youth. 
 
 " I never see grapevines that big around here, but I 
 suppose they do grow that size down your way." 
 " Any snakes like that here?" asked Ben. 
 " Not now. A long time ago I hired out to chop 
 wood, over Elm Ridge way, t'other side Black Head 
 range. Ed Slater, the man that hired me, lived at the 
 foot of the mountains. It was quite a tramp to where I 
 had to chop, so I took my dinner. Well, the first morn- 
 ing, when I climbed the mountain an' come to the place, 
 I begun to look for a good spot to hide my dinner bucket, 
 'cause I didn't want no bear eatin' my grub. I seen 
 somethin' that looked to me like a log — dead log, you 
 know. So I put my bucket behind it — an' I still thought 
 
 it was a log. Then I went 
 to choppin'. Pretty soon I 
 got warm enough to take off 
 my coat. Yes, sir; I went 
 back an' actually put my 
 coat on what I thought was 
 a log. Then I chopped on, 
 once or twice lookin' back 
 to see if my grub was safe. 
 At noon I went to eat. Yes, 
 sir. I give my axe a swing 
 inter what I supposed was a 
 log, then I spread my coat 
 on the thing, for it hadn't 
 moved, an' sat there eatin' 
 my dinner just as comfort- 
 able, an' feelin' as safe as a 
 little girl in Sunday school. 
 All the while, mind you, I 
 thought it was a log. Yes, 
 sir, I did, by jingo!" 
 
 Then he slowly closed his 
 sleepy eyes in silence. 
 
 Charley Moore, his curi- 
 osity getting the better of 
 him, asked, " What was 
 it?" 
 
 Slowly opening one eye, 
 he replied, " It was a log.'' 
 
 Vltot H- rKt«i- 
 
 BRIDAL PROBLEMS. 
 "I want a man's shirt-waist — some fashionable shade — 
 and I don't know tiie exact size; but he's an inch taller than 
 I am, with shoulders something like yours, only handsomer, 
 of course. " 
 
 His Dilemma. 
 
 Knicker — " How do you 
 suppose Taft feels?" 
 
 Backer — " Like a girl who 
 is chaperoned by a widow."
 
 The Nervy Young Man. 
 
 (( OIR," said the nervy young man, coming into the 
 
 •* rich merchant's office and taking a seat near 
 the head of the firm, " I would like to ask you for your 
 daughter's hand !" 
 
 " Why, I don't even know you, sir!" 
 
 " Oh, don't let that bother at all, sir. We'll soon 
 get acquainted." 
 
 " So you, a perfect stranger, ask for my daughter's 
 hand, eh?" said the rich merchant, gazing in amazement 
 at his caller. " Which daughter do you mean? I have 
 three." 
 
 " I mean the one with the golden hair," imparted the 
 young man, unabashed. 
 
 " I am still in doubt, young man. Two of my daugh- 
 ters have golden hair. Do you mean Ellen or Maria?" 
 
 " Can't say which, sir. I had only a moment's view 
 of your daughter, and have never met her to know her 
 name. But the moment's sight of her was enough to 
 tell me that I love her, sir!" 
 
 " And you come here to get my decision without con- 
 sulting or even seeking an acquaintance with my daugh- 
 ter?" 
 
 "Yes. You see, sir, the time is short. Yesterday 
 I came across your daughter and a young man in the 
 park. Just as I had made up my mind that I loved her, 
 I heard the young gentleman tell her that he was coming 
 
 /**-^ 
 
 SEDUCTIVE. 
 " Le' me take yer pie fer a minute, sonny, an' I'll show 
 yer how I kin eat it an' balance a feather on me nose ai de 
 same time." 
 
 here to-day to ask you for her hand in marriage; so I 
 hurried right along to get in my bid ahead of him." 
 
 " Young man," gasped the fond parent, " it's a fore- 
 gone conclusion that you will accomplish what you start 
 out to do. And you've certainly got the nerve! So go 
 ahead and obtain an introduction to the daughter of your 
 choice and do the rest. You've got my consent!" 
 
 CHASLES C. HULLIN. 
 
 A DISCREET POLICEMAN. 
 Boy—" Alderman O'Rourke and old man Riley are having th' divil av a scrap just around the corner != 
 Officer — " Which is on top ?" 
 .fio)-—" Alderman O'Rourke." 
 Officer—" Shure, thin, ut's as much as me job is worth to interfere!"
 
 'You talk about your shocks of hair,' 
 
 Said Uncle Ezra Fitch. 
 ' I jest received a dreadful scare 
 
 A-pullin' 'Mandy's switch." 
 
 News. 
 'pHE ROAD which has been running from New York 
 to Boston has got there. 
 
 Mr. Jones recently went to his office, leaving the lid 
 off the family jar. An explosion resulted. 
 
 Miss Jenks, who was seen to take a street car at the 
 foot of Main Street last night, has been arrested. 
 
 Miss Mason has been having trouble with her eyes. 
 Yesterday they persisted in running up and down the 
 columns of the morning paper. Then they became fas- 
 tened on the picture of a departed friend, and at last re- 
 ports they were glued to the opposite wall. 
 
 Professor Seeley, in a moment of deep thought on 
 Friday afternoon, threw his eyes into the fire. 
 
 When Mr. Morton arrived at his office this morning 
 he had a young lady on his arm. Dr. Smith is the at- 
 tending physician. 
 
 On Tuesday the night editor, while 
 following a train of thought, walked 
 off a high trestle and fell into a rev- 
 erie, but his injuries were slight and 
 he is now able to be at his desk again. 
 
 Everything looks very bright to-day. 
 It is reported that one of our early 
 risers swept the landscape with his eye. 
 
 ADA T. DKAKE. 
 
 Seircasm. 
 
 ONE day, when Eve, in joyful mirth. 
 Perambulated on this earth. 
 She gazed at Adam's scant array 
 Of fig-leaves — two or three, they say — 
 And said, as only woman can, 
 " It's a good thing clothes don't make 
 the man." 
 
 Acts Daytimes. 
 
 Mrs. Knox — " Why did you refer to 
 h«r as a great actress?" 
 
 Mrs. Batigs — " Why, a good many of 
 bar acquaintances think she is a per- 
 fect lady." 
 
 A Natural Churner. 
 
 WILD-EYED DISCOVERER WOULD UTILIZE AN AMAZON TREE. 
 
 AN ANGULAR man, whose chief characteristics were 
 *» a wild eye and a rusty frock coat, entered the office 
 of a prominent investment concern. Through some fluke 
 on the part of the office-boy, he gained admittance to 
 the private office of the president. 
 
 " I wish to present anjdea," the visitor said, without 
 parley, " that will revolutionize the great dairy industry 
 of this country." 
 
 " What is it?" asked the financier; but, even as he 
 spoke, he touched the little push button on his desk 
 marked " alarm." 
 
 " You are doubtless aware that down on the Amazon 
 there is a tree whose sap consists of a fine grade of 
 milk." 
 
 " I have heard of that nature-faking tree," said the 
 financier. 
 
 " Well, my idea is to transplant this milk tree from 
 the peaceful valley of the Amazon up to the southern 
 coast of America, where hurricanes and cyclones would 
 continually shake this tree." 
 
 "What then?" 
 
 " Thisjchurning would produce a fine grade of butter! 
 Now the Natural Churn Company (Inc.), capitalized at 
 five million dollars " 
 
 Just then the clerks rushed in and led the discoverer 
 away. peter pey sbevlin. 
 
 Poet — " Have you read my last poem?" 
 Friend—" I trust that I have." 
 
 A PLEASANT KIND OF COOLNESS. 
 Although there was a coolness between them, her face wore a beatific expression.
 
 The Philanthropist. 
 
 1*HE JUVENILE grammar 
 class was wrestling with 
 the sentence, " A philanthro- 
 pist gave to his servant a 
 beautiful cottage in the sub- 
 urbs." 
 
 " Now, then," continued the 
 teacher, " we have before us a 
 positive statement, embracing 
 a subject, a predicate, and an 
 object — do you understand?" 
 
 "Yes-sum," chorused the 
 class. 
 
 " Very well, you shall have 
 a test. Come, Thomas; what 
 is the subject?" 
 
 "Cottage" (doubtingly). 
 
 "Why, no, child! Philan- 
 thropist." 
 
 "Oh!" 
 
 "And the predicate, Wil- 
 liam?" 
 
 "Servant" (confidently). 
 
 "Mercy, no! Gave is the 
 predicate ; but what is the ob- 
 ject, Casey?" 
 
 Silence. 
 
 "Come, come! It's quite 
 apparent!" 
 
 " / guess he was stuck on 
 her," ventured the lad. 
 
 ]^0T ONLY can the leopard 
 *~ not change his spots, but 
 neither can anybody his kin — 
 worse luck ! 
 
 ^:M'' fiv/rP"^ 
 
 SOME HARD-LUCK 
 STORIES. 
 
 SIMPLE. 
 Passenger — "How do you feel, my good man, when the giant waves come tumbling 
 over the ship ?" 
 
 Old salt— '^ Wet, ma'am — -werry wet!" 
 
 Drawing' a Line. 
 
 WT IS an East Side barber-shop. An Irishman enters to be shaved. He 
 takes a seat and barber proceeds to lather him. 
 
 Barber is suddenly called into an adjoining room, where he is detained 
 some time. 
 
 During his absence the barber's pet monkey jumps from his resting-place, 
 seizes the brush, and proceeds to finish lathering the Irishman's face. Then he 
 takes a razor from its case, strops it, and turns to the Irishman to shave him. 
 
 Irishman sits up suddenly. " Shtop that!" he exclaims. "Ye kin tuck 
 th' towel in me neck an' put th' soap on me face, but, be gorrah! yer father's 
 got to shave me!" 
 
 Noncents. 
 
 WHOEVER has gazed on a bright copper cent 
 Has noticed, unless I'm mistook. 
 The proud aborigine's classical face 
 And remarkably in-a-cent look. 
 
 Generous to a Fault. 
 
 Cohn — " Einstein settled mit his creditors for fifty cents on der dollar." 
 Levy — " Mein gracious! his liberality vill make him a pauper^"
 
 Murphy's Dilemma. 
 
 WURPHY, evidently un- 
 *~ der the weight of a 
 hilarious jag, was zigzag- 
 ging his way along the 
 country road. Meeting a 
 minister of the gospel, he 
 straightened himself up and 
 asked, 
 
 "Can yez tell me how 
 fur is't frum here to White 
 Plains?" 
 
 " About four miles," an- 
 swered the clergyman; 
 " but, my good man, you 
 have a long road before 
 you." 
 
 "It ain't th' lin'th of 
 th' road that's thrubblin' 
 me at all, at all, y e r 
 rivirence," hiccoughed Murphy 
 it." 
 
 Continuous. 
 
 THE WEARY model gets no rest; 
 Her life o'errun with woes is. 
 She poses all the day with zest, 
 And all the night reposes. 
 
 Knew His Rights. 
 
 Landlady — " What's the matter with that pie?" 
 Boarder — " 'Tain't fit for a pig, and I ain't goin' to 
 eat it." 
 
 REAR VIEW OF ANDREW JACKSON JOHNSON 
 IN HIS PRISON SUIT. 
 
 It's th' width of 
 
 A Limited Luxury. 
 
 'W^WO Irishmen were dis- 
 cussing the phenome- 
 non of sleep. Said one, " Oi 
 hear as wan av thim poethry 
 lads calls it ' bald nature's 
 hair-reshtoorer. ' " 
 
 " Yis," assented the oth- 
 er; " shlape's a grand luxu- 
 ry. It's a pity a man can't 
 kape awake long enough to 
 inj'y it. Jist whin he's 
 thinkin' phat a foine long 
 shnooze he'll be hovin', be- 
 gorra, it's marnin' !" 
 
 An Expi&n&tion. 
 
 Police justice — "Jackson, 
 this affair looks to me more 
 like a common dog fight than 
 a case of assault and battery. You claim this man 
 assaulted you, and that you did not even try to defend 
 yourself; yet he bears the marks of your teeth in sev- 
 enteen places. How do you account for that?" 
 
 Jackson — " Well, boss, it was jest like dis. He hurt 
 me so when he was a-poundin' of me, dat I had ter have 
 sumthin' ter bite on, or I couldn't 'a' stood it." 
 
 Spiritual Information. 
 
 HA!" said the Pullman porter, as he drew the 
 flask from under the passenger's pillow, " I 
 have learned the secret of his berth." 
 
 "A^ 
 
 THE COMFORTS OF HOME. 
 OU bach—" James, take off this record and put in the 'Where was you last night; it was one o'clock before you got home— one.'
 
 Comedian Scored. 
 
 IT WAS a wet and 
 
 * stormy night. The 
 wind howled and hissed 
 round the rattling win- 
 dows. 
 
 " I guess you've heard 
 a noise like that before," 
 remarked the villain in- 
 sinuatingly. 
 
 " Sure," replied the 
 comedian pleasantly; " but 
 I guess you never did." 
 
 5ojj— "What! 
 
 Advantage of Prov- 
 ing Superiority. 
 
 <«¥JA," boo-hooed the 
 
 chastised son, " if 
 
 1 had let Willie Simmonds 
 
 lick me, instead of me licking him, would you've whipped 
 me just the same?" 
 
 " Yes; but remember that in such a case you would 
 be getting two lickings in place of one!" 
 
 PRACTICE. 
 Neiv clerk — " I should like two weeks' vacation, sir." 
 
 Why, this is only your first week with 
 
 Bad Gin. 
 
 Mrs. Podiink — " I dew 
 think it's outrageous to 
 send our fleets over to 
 Japan." 
 
 Mr. Podunk — "Oh, 
 'shaw, ma I it's jest on a 
 friendly visit. Why is it 
 outrageous?" 
 
 Mrs. Podunk—" Why, 
 them sailors will be full 
 on them Japanese jinrik- 
 ishas the hull time." 
 
 In Oklahoma. 
 
 Neiu clerk — "Yes, sir; but once I get accustomed to the 
 position I may be able to stand it longer." 
 
 (i f^O," said the eminent scientist, "I have never 
 *^ seen a Plymouth Rock hen lay a corner-stone, 
 but I have frequently seen a pineapple layer cake." 
 
 Keeper — " I don't know 
 what I shall do with No. 
 1323." 
 Assistant — " What's the trouble?" 
 Keeper — " He's too far gone to run around here at 
 large and not quite crazy enough to send to the Legis- 
 lature." 
 
 Retold. 
 
 LITTLE drops of water. 
 Little lack of sand, 
 Make the frenzied panic 
 And the wiser land. 
 
 When your knees is shaky 
 
 And your spine is limp. 
 When the garter snake he 
 
 Straightens out his crimp. 
 When the bees is buzzin'. 
 
 When you hear the lark. 
 And the piney rozzin 
 
 Oozea from the bark 
 
 FISHIN' TIME. 
 I. 
 ISHIN' time's a-comin'! 
 I've a kind o' feel 
 Soon we'll hear the hummin 
 Of tlie nickel reel; 
 See the line a-flyin' 
 
 Through the quiet air. 
 And the fly a-)yin' 
 On the water there. 
 
 II. 
 Sort of have .. feelin' 
 
 Trout have got a hun^f. 
 That the bell's a-pealin', 
 
 Callin' 'em to lunch; 
 Lurkin' round the water, 
 
 With their eyes so bright, 
 Lookin' for a sorter 
 
 Sop for appetite. 
 
 III. 
 When the grass is greenin'. 
 
 And the trees awake. 
 And the birds are preenin' 
 
 Down along the lake, 
 Isn't any doubtin', 
 
 To my knowin' eye, 
 That the time for troutin' 
 
 Is a-drawin' nigh. 
 
 When the kids is stretchin', 
 
 Yawnin' in the schools, 
 Then's the time for fetchin' 
 
 Out your fishin' tools; 
 Droppin' all your duties. 
 
 Family forsook, 
 For the speckled beauties 
 
 Waitin' for the hook I 
 
 JOHN K£NDRICK BANOS.
 
 DID YOU EVER! 
 Did you ever descend in the night, with the view 
 
 Of smashing a burglar chap burly, 
 To find it was only "the girl" in a stew 
 
 To tackle her wash good and early f 
 
 In the Padded Cells. 
 
 t* \A7H0 IS that young man 
 ' ~ there, repeating to 
 himself, ' Eighty-nine, ninety, 
 ninety-one,' all the time?" 
 
 " He was saving a thousand 
 coupons for a meerschaum pipe, 
 and the company went bank- 
 rupt on his nine hundred and 
 ninety-first." 
 
 Together. 
 
 THE rich man and the poor 
 man 
 Are together raised or 
 crushed. 
 The freight car will be empty 
 When the auto's toot is hus- 
 hed. 
 
 Careless. 
 
 tJ^ATHAT'S the matter with 
 "' the candidate?" 
 '"Sh! He's very ill." 
 " Isn't it rather sudden?" 
 " Very. He smoked a cigar 
 
 from the wrong pocket." 
 
 A Fabie. 
 
 AS THEY came out of church, so impressed 
 was Brown with the Rev. Dr. Bishop's dis- 
 course on the problems of life in this sad world 
 that he could not forbear exclaiming, " Beauti- 
 ful, beautiful!" 
 
 Said his wife, " I think you are a very poor 
 judge. The rim is entirely too large, and those 
 flowers are very, very unbecoming!" 
 
 Not Such a Good Hand. 
 
 Judge — " What have you to say as to the 
 charge that, while the husband of one woman, 
 you married three others?" 
 
 Bigamist — " Simply this: that having four of 
 a kind isn't what it is cracked up to be." 
 
 Police. 
 
 Jonesby — "That Chicago man who slept two 
 weeks was arrested yesterday." 
 
 Smithson — " What was the charge against 
 him?" 
 
 Jonesby — " Impersonating an officer." 
 
 BY SHOULDER cold and marble heart 
 Full oft my love was froze. 
 But the greatest chill 1 knew not till 
 I got the tilted nose. 
 
 RUSHING THINGS. 
 Young patriot — "Golly! that 
 beats firecrackers ail holler. '' 
 
 HW6.1^'l>) 
 
 PAINTING THE LILY. 
 
 Jealous He — "What makes his lips sweeter 
 than mine ?" 
 
 SAt— "Chocolate." 
 
 Jealous He — " Huh I He's mean — he eats it 
 all himself." 
 
 S/ie — " Possibly. But I get the flavor when 
 he kisses me !"
 
 Her Testimonial 
 
 By Norman H. Crowell 
 
 
 SHE WAS tall, bony, and evidently strong, for as 
 the pill agent came up to the door she was in the 
 last stages of heaving a half-grown Newfound- 
 land dog out of the rear window. The agent 
 coughed slightly as he witnessed this feat of arms, and 
 passed the remark 
 that it was a fine 
 day, although it 
 looked like a frost 
 was due. 
 
 " Ye're right, 
 stranger — hain't 
 d i s p u t i n ' you 
 thar, nohow,' ' 
 said the woman, 
 as she wiped the 
 dog-hair off her 
 hands and ap- 
 proached the door. 
 
 The agent tilt- 
 ed his hat back 
 with a profession- 
 al gesture and 
 placed his elbow 
 familiarly against 
 the jamb of the 
 doorway. 
 
 " Madam," he 
 said, in a far- 
 away voice, " the 
 last time I had the 
 pleasure of look- 
 ing upon your 
 form, now glow- 
 ing with health 
 and the strength 
 of man — er — of 
 womanhood, you 
 were a pitiable 
 object. Racked 
 by disease, miser- 
 able from pain, 
 and helpless from 
 incurable mala- 
 dies, you spent a 
 melancholy existence. 
 
 man that sold me them Bedbug's Bilious Bullets? If so, 
 I want words with you consarnin' them pellets." 
 
 " Yes, madam; that was my pleasure, I admit," re- 
 sponded the agent. 
 
 " An' maybe you are the literary light what edited up 
 
 them thar testi- 
 
 
 monials what has 
 been runnin' in 
 our paper every 
 week senct. 
 you?" 
 
 Be 
 
 Lady from Boston 
 anarchic theories." 
 
 Lady from Cheyenne — "Goodness me ! 
 it to get rid of 'em ?" 
 
 You were gaunt, hollow ' 
 
 " What're you talkin' about, stranger?" broke in the 
 woman, as she elevated her shoulders slightly and 
 squinted at him in a dangerous manner. 
 
 "This, I believe, is Mrs. Arabella P. Yocum?" in- 
 quired the agent easily. 
 
 " It shore is; an' what of it?" 
 
 " Am I right in asserting that Bedloe's Little Bilious 
 Bullets cured you of weak back, nervous prostration, 
 insomnia, and night-sweats? Your picture and testi- 
 monial are familiar" 
 
 " Hoi' on, young man — jest a second. Be you the 
 
 "Why, I— that 
 
 is, perhaps" ■ 
 
 The woman 
 reached forth and 
 seized the agent 
 by the collar and 
 gave a yank that 
 made his heels 
 crack together. 
 Then she slammed 
 him down on to 
 the solid end of a 
 section of oak log, 
 and pulled out a 
 bunch of news- 
 papers from a 
 pigeon-hole near 
 at hand. 
 
 " I've got cake 
 in the oven an' 
 it's burnin', but 
 I've got time 
 enough for you to 
 read that. Read 
 it good an' loud, 
 an' don't miss 
 any." 
 
 The agent 
 tremblingly took 
 the paper and fo- 
 cused the spot in- 
 dicated by her 
 long, red forefin- 
 ger. Then he 
 loosened his collar and began weakly, but with a gradual 
 gain in power. 
 
 " ' Before taking Bedloe's Little Bilious Bullets I was 
 a physical wreck. My liver was worn to shreds, my 
 kidneys were afloat, and my groaning drove my husband 
 to drink. My heart was so weak that a fly lighting on 
 me sent me into convulsions. My oldest son left home 
 and was jailed for horse-stealing just before I began 
 using the bullets. At this period I was a living skele- 
 ton, and the doctor said there was no hope for me. My 
 daughter then eloped with a negro bartender. But Bed- 
 loe's Bullets cleared away the dark clouds. After using 
 
 INFERENTIAL. 
 " I'm so uorried about my daughter ! 
 
 Her head is full of 
 Ain't there nothing you can put on
 
 only two crates of them my daughter got a divorce, my 
 son broke jail, my husband signed the pledge, and I was 
 cured. To-day I can run faster, jump higher, kick 
 harder, and yell louder than any man in Pike County. 
 Arabella P. Yocum.' " 
 
 The agent finished reading and laid down the paper. 
 
 " Well?" snapped the woman fiercely. 
 
 " Well, this is the strongest testimonial I ever saw 
 for the bullets. It is delightful to read" • 
 
 " Delightful? Say, Mister Agent, the minute I 
 clapped eye on that testimonial, I said to myself, says I, 
 'Arabella, there's goin' to be trouble with them pill 
 men, shore as you're born an' breathin'.' The time has 
 come — it is here — an' I reckon maybe Arabella P. Yocum 
 is goin' to know if this Bedloe man is financially sound. " 
 
 " What do you mean, madam?" said the agent 
 weakly. 
 
 The woman reached in behind the stove and withdrew 
 a large, shiny Winchester and began slipping big, brass 
 cartridges into its insides. Then she chucked it shut a 
 time or two and pushed up her sleeves. 
 
 " Have you got fifteen dollars in money on you, 
 agent?" she suddenly inquired. 
 
 "Why — er — yes, I have." 
 
 "Lay it on the table!" 
 
 The agent looked sheepish a moment, then slipped 
 three fives to the position mentioned. 
 
 "Good-day, stranger!" 
 
 " Good -day, madam — fine weath " 
 
 "GIT!" 
 
 He did. 
 
 Of all our human aspects. 
 
 There's nothing half so queer, 
 
 As to see a fellow telling 
 A joke you cannot bear. 
 
 A HARD MILKER. 
 The hoarder — "How much milk does that cow give ?" 
 The milker — "She dox\\ gi-ve none. What yer git yer got 
 ter work hard fer. " 
 
 Couldn't Afford It. 
 
 Congressman Blank (after buying voter a drink) — 
 " My friend, can I rely upon you to support me?" 
 
 Crimson-nosed friend — "Sorry, gent; but my wife's 
 kickin' now 'cause I don't support her." 
 
 So Thoughtful. 
 
 Mr. Westend — " You seem very happy to-night." 
 Mrs. Westend — " Yes, indeed. That jewel of a maid 
 
 is not going to leave me 
 after all." 
 
 Mr. Westend — 
 " Why, I thought you 
 told me only the other 
 day that she was going 
 to Mrs. Murrayhill's?" 
 Mrs. Westend — 
 " Yes, she was; but 
 Mrs. Murrayhill died 
 this morning. Was it 
 not sweet of her?" 
 
 A Cure-all. 
 
 UAVE you a wart? 
 Have you a reced- 
 ing chin? Have you a 
 bunion? Have you 
 any money? Come to 
 us! We will take it 
 away from you. Dr. 
 Onion, adv. 
 
 Enough Left. 
 
 Mrs. Benham — "You 
 took the words right out 
 of my mouth." 
 
 Benham — ''I don't 
 seem to have done a 
 complete job." 
 
 OXTC* I«^roC..^ 
 
 The only sight that's queerer. 
 It really seems to me, 
 
 Is to see some fellows getting 
 A point you cannot see.
 
 A Lesson in Horticulture 
 
 By E. A. Wader 
 
 MY NEIGHBOR Brown came to the garden fence 
 and said, 
 " How do you do your grafting?" 
 " My grafting?" said I. 
 " Yes — grafting apple trees. I want to try it my- 
 self." 
 
 " Oh!" I exclaimed. " Yes, yes ! Well, in the first 
 place, I begin by lying; that is, I lie in bed and think 
 the whole thing out in every detail. I watch my oppor- 
 tunity, and on the first fine day I steal a few hours from 
 
 PUGNACIOUS. 
 T/ie 'voluble one — "I can always remember striking faces." 
 Pat — "Begprra! ye'U niver wake to recoUiction av ye 
 poke moine. " 
 
 my business. Then I borrow a saw — a steel one — and 
 with it I rob the tree, upon which I wish to graft, of 
 some of its larger branches. This I try to do in such a 
 way that the loss of the branches will not be noticed. 
 These limbs should not be left lying — that is, lying on 
 the ground ; they are unsightly and may attract the at- 
 tention of passers-by. They should be hustled behind 
 the lattice-work screen at once. So far, so good. Now, 
 let me see — oh, yes! I rob another tree of a few twigs 
 having buds on them, and insert them in the ends of the 
 sawed branches on the tree. Then I take some beeswax 
 and tallow and melt it together. This must be thor- 
 oughly worked — work it for all you're worth, to make it 
 pliable. Finally, with this I try to hide all appearance 
 of the graft — from sunlight and air; and there you are 
 — the job is done." 
 
 " I see," said Brown; " and I think I'm foxy enough 
 to do the trick the first time trying. Many thanks." 
 
 Shortly after, I heard Brown telling his wife how I 
 explained the process. This is the way he had it: 
 
 "First," he says, "you must be a good liar; then 
 you watch your chance and steal a half day from the 
 company's time. Then you steal a saw; then you de- 
 
 fraud the tree of some branches, which you must hide, 
 so nobody will get on. Then you rob somebody's tree of 
 twigs, put them in the ends of the branches, and cover 
 your tracks with beeswax and tallow." 
 
 Said Brown's wife, " I don't think that man can be 
 trusted; he has two kinds of grafting mixed; and, be- 
 sides, he didn't tell you where to steal the apple trees." 
 
 " Over the Hill." 
 
 THERE was once in the service a gunner, 
 At hitting the target a stunner; 
 But after a lark 
 Hit a four-masted bark. 
 And has since proved a very good runner. 
 
 Not Well Spent. 
 
 OENATOR BEVERIDGE was showing a colored con- 
 •^ stituent about Washington. 
 
 "That is the weather bureau," said the Senator. 
 " The government spends a lot of money on the weather 
 now." 
 
 Colored constituent — " Ya-as, sah; an' it's a heap 
 wuss now dan when dey didn't." 
 
 ALL ABOUT HER. 
 Winile — " See that little woman in black over 
 there? I'll bet there are more men crazy about 
 that woman than any woman in town. " 
 
 Hinkle — " What makes you think so?" 
 Winkle — "Well, she's the matron out at the 
 insane asylum."
 
 The Tri-weekly Train. 
 
 A NEW ENGLANDER was traveling in Texas on a 
 " new railroad. 
 
 " Hello, neighbor !" he called out to a fellow-traveler. 
 " How about the south-bound train? How often does it 
 run?" 
 
 " She's a try-weekly," said the Texan. " She runs 
 down one week and tries mighty hard to get back the 
 next. ' ' 
 
 A Time-saving Query. 
 
 Stranger (in office of Courier-Journal) — ' A^hat are 
 your advertising rates?" 
 
 Proprietor and editor — " How do you want 'em quoted 
 — in eggs, vegetables, butter, cordwood, cider, maple 
 syrup, or dollars and cents?" 
 
 A Little Widow. 
 
 A LITTLE widow now and then 
 Plays havoc with the single men. 
 
 — Hoi'ston Post. 
 Because a widow loves these men 
 Like mother, sweetheart — and some then. 
 
 Or a Swindler. 
 
 Mrs. Dewtell — "I do think Mr. Hankinson is the 
 meanest man I ever heard of, without exception." 
 Mrs. Jenkins — " Why, what's he been doing?" 
 Mrs. Dewtell — -"Sued a man for alienation of his 
 wife's affections and set the damages at only ten dollars." 
 
 MARRIED, HIMSELF. 
 Mrs. Peck — " Henry, listen to those wedding bells !" 
 Henry Peck — "Wedding bells ! You mean lemon peals.'' 
 
 Digs Them Out. 
 
 (< ¥^0 YOU have any literary people in your town?" 
 ^^ asked a guest of Mr. Booth Tarkington out in 
 
 Indiana. 
 
 " There goes Hiram Spaydes — that man with the pick 
 
 and shovel on his shoulder," replied Mr. Tarkington. 
 
 " He has produced some of the best cellars every season. " 
 
 A Withering Glance. 
 
 I ONCE had a doggie named Spark, 
 Who met with an auto at dark. 
 It gave him a glance 
 That pressed out his pants. 
 And tore off a part of his bark. 
 
 Ready for Them. 
 
 Friend — " Now, if I were building a house, I'd " 
 
 Owner — " Step around the corner, please, and you'll 
 find a house I'm putting up to carry out the ideas of my 
 friends. This is the one I'm building to suit myself." 
 
 Her Proper Sphere. 
 
 Madge — •" Where is she going for the summer?" 
 Dolly — " To one of the seaside resorts, I should say. 
 I heard her tell a friend she had nothing to wear." 
 
 THE BOY FOR THE JOB. 
 
 Employer — " Are you truthful?" 
 
 Young applicant — " Yep ; but I ain't so darn truthful as to 
 spoil your business." 
 
 FELLOW from Detroit wants to know the scien- 
 tific name for snoring. 
 " Sheet music," John,
 
 Everybody Happy 
 
 By Ralph Bergengren 
 
 AN INVETERATE theater-goer had noticed, in a 
 certain New York theater where the play is 
 changed weekly, another patron apparently as 
 inveterate as himself. But there was this dif- 
 ference between them : One came for the play, but the 
 other, an oldish gentleman, spent the whole evening 
 reading his newspaper, or sometimes a rather heavy- 
 looking book, in the smoking-room. He didn't smoke, 
 but he just sat there comfortably and read. 
 
 He was there the same evening of each week, and 
 finally the observer's curiosity got the better of him. 
 
 THE BIG STICK 
 still meets with approval in some quarters. 
 
 He dropped down in the next chair and started a conver- 
 sation. 
 
 " It's a pretty good play, don't you think?" he re- 
 marked tentatively. 
 
 The other looked over the top of his newspaper. 
 
 "Haven't seen it, " he replied. "Used to see 'em 
 when I was young. Ali very much the same thing." 
 
 "In many particulars," agreed the play-goer. 
 " Still, you must admit that there are differences. 
 Every generation has its own school of acting and play- 
 writing. I see you here frequently." 
 
 "Every Saturday." 
 
 "Indeed! Well, that beats my record. You evi- 
 dently enjoy acting even if you find the plays somewhat 
 monotonous." 
 
 "Not a bit." 
 
 " And yet you keep coming?" 
 
 " Every Saturday." 
 
 "I'm afraid I may seem inquisitive — but perhaps you 
 have a relative in the company." 
 
 The oldish man looked indignant. 
 
 "I should hope not," he responded. "I've a wife 
 
 and three daughters, but, thank fortune ! they're not or 
 the stage." 
 
 " If they 're like most wives and daughters, ' ' hazarded 
 the other, " I should think they would want to be here 
 with you." 
 
 "They do." 
 
 " And you never bring them?" 
 
 The older man laid down his newspaper. 
 
 " This is a comfortable sort of room, isn't it?" he 
 queried. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Comfortable chairs, good light — all that sort of 
 thing?" 
 
 "Excellent." 
 
 " Might as well be here as anywhere else, eh?" 
 
 " I suppose so." 
 
 " Wouldn't care to have your own wife and daughters 
 going to the theater alone, would you?" 
 
 "Not if I had any." 
 
 " Don't have to see the show if I don't want to?" 
 
 " Evidently not." 
 
 The older man picked up his paper again. 
 
 " Well, that's the way of it. Wife and daughters 
 down there in the audience. Me up here with a good 
 book or the evening paper. Show over — all of us home 
 together and everybody happy. Man's first duty to 
 make family happy; second duty to be happy himself. 
 And, Lord bless you, sir! I don't have to see the show, 
 even if I were interested in it. I hear it all the way 
 home." 
 
 A SUMMER resort — Borrowing one's neighbor's lawn 
 
 HENt.lfS^ 
 
 OPPOSING VIEW-POINTS. 
 
 Boarder — " You poor old mutt ! What fun do you get 
 out of life?" 
 
 Poor old mutt — "We sees you things hoppin' 'round at this 
 time o' year — that's fun,"
 
 A Transparent Confession 
 
 An Original Melodrama in One Chapter 
 
 By Charles H. Fitch 
 
 JOLLY little Mrs. de Verre had been married seven 
 years and hadn't even had a quarrel. But that's 
 nothing to do with it. 
 Her cut-glass was disappearing f Had been 
 disappearing for the past year, several pieces every 
 week! 
 
 This morning it was a beautiful cut-glass sugar bowl. 
 It was gone — absolute- 
 ly gone! And she 
 prided herself on her 
 large collection. It 
 was her only hobby 
 and mania. 
 
 ' ' Henry de Verre, ' ' 
 she began at the break- 
 fast table, " the sugar 
 bowl has ' went ' !" 
 
 Henry looked up 
 from his coffee with 
 a glassy stare. "Sor- 
 ry," he muttered. 
 Henry had a 
 glass eye and 
 was a man of 
 few words. 
 
 "You're the 
 boss, Henry. I 
 always said 
 that you wore 
 the pants in 
 this family. 
 And I searched those 
 pants last night, but I 
 didn't find any." 
 
 "Any what?" 
 asked Henry, look- 
 ing at his wife furtively. 
 
 " Pawn tickets!" 
 
 " Theodosia " — Henry's voice grew deep as he spoke 
 his wife's name — " I did not pawn your cut-glass. 
 Neither was it stolen by burglars. late it!" 
 
 " What!" screamed Mrs. de Verre. 
 
 "Before I inherited my wealth," continued Henry, 
 rising from the table and putting his hand to his fore- 
 head, while the hurdy-gurdy below played jiggly music, 
 " I was a glasa-eater in a dime museum. Then I re- 
 formed. Later I married you. But you tempted me! 
 Have been tempting me for the last seven years!" 
 
 " Good heavens! With me cut-glass?" 
 
 " Yes; I was always used to the choicest of cuts." 
 
 " And in the summer, when you were hot, Henry, 
 you ate the frost " 
 
 " Yes, the frosted glass, Theodosia!" 
 
 " And in the fall, when you were sick and the doctor 
 said that you must eat pills, and Willie's mar " 
 
 HELLO, CENTRAL? 
 
 " Yes, that's what happened to Willie's marbles." 
 " Oh, that I had done this in time !" wailed Theodosia. 
 " Why didn't I send for it—' Dr. Cutting's Celebrated 
 Cure for the glass-eating habit. Put it in hubby's coffee 
 every morning.' But I will not desert you, Henry. 
 Hand in hand we will fight this curse. You shall not 
 suffer in secret! To-night we dine on isinglass — to- 
 gether!" 
 
 They embrace. 
 (Curtain.) 
 
 A Long Stay 
 Expected. 
 ** rVAUGHTER, I 
 have a request 
 to make. " 
 
 " All right, pa." 
 " I have just wound 
 that eight-day clock. 
 Will you please wind 
 it again before that 
 young man goes?" 
 
 They Killed Him. 
 
 Smithson — ' ' Poor 
 chap! I understand 
 that he was clubbed 
 to death." 
 
 J one sb y — " Yes. 
 He belonged to four, I 
 think." 
 
 His Youthful 
 Start. 
 
 JIM COOTES, the 
 old, gray-headed 
 good-for-nothing and village failure, led the boys down 
 to the red bridge and pointed up the stream to where 
 a tumbledown sawmill had half fallen in the dam. 
 
 "Thar!" said he proudly; " up thar, et thet sawmill, 
 'swhare I got my start." 
 
 Dressed Up. 
 
 WHILE mounted on top of a bbl., 
 A stump speech was made by O'Fbl. 
 But you couldn't, they say. 
 Hear him ten feet away, 
 So loud was his wearing apbl. 
 
 A Village Hampden. 
 
 Aviro — " Abner has got it in fer the Standard Oil 
 Company." 
 
 Ebenezer — " I should say he had! He lets all of his 
 lamps burn all night — says he's goin' ter do all he kin 
 ter exhaust the resources of the Standard, b'gosh!"
 
 LITTLE JOE'S AUTOMOBILE. 
 
 1. 
 
 ■6£>^ 
 
 3. 
 
 4. 
 
 5.
 
 NOTSlNG OF IMPORTANCE HAPPENED. 
 
 A WEALTHY New York gentleman, on account of 
 
 ill-health, was told by his doctor to go up to the 
 
 mountains for about two months. When going away he 
 
 gave instructions that no matter what happened he 
 
 should not be advised. 
 
 At the end of two months he came back, and on meet- 
 ing his footman at the station, he could wait no longer for 
 some news and he said, " Henry, has anything happened?" 
 
 The footman replied, " No, sir." 
 
 The man kept on asking the footman until the latter 
 said, " Well, sir, only this happened — your dog died." 
 
 " Is that so!" said the man; " but tell me, how did he 
 die?" 
 
 " Oh," said the footman, " he ate some burnt horse- 
 flesh." 
 
 " Where did he get burnt horseflesh from?" 
 
 " You see, sir, your stable burned down and six of 
 your horses were killed." 
 
 " Then how did the stable catch fire?" 
 
 "It was this way, sir," said the footman — "the 
 flames from the house " • 
 
 " Why, you don't mean to say that my house is de- 
 stroyed!" said the man, quite nervous. 
 
 " Yes, sir," replied the footman; " the flames of the 
 candles were blown on to the curtain by the wind and the 
 house caught fire." 
 
 " Why, I have no candles in my house ! I use nothing 
 but electricity." 
 
 " I know," said the footman; " but your mother-in- 
 law died " 
 
 " From what?" interrupted the man. 
 
 " Some people say that she could not stand the shock." 
 
 " What shock?" interrupted the man. 
 
 " Well, you see, your wife ran away with another 
 man." Joseph Pelezzari, New York, N. Y. 
 
 THE RIVAL SALESMCii). 
 
 A COtJPLE of salesmen for two rival fireproof safe 
 manufacturers chanced to meet in the lobby of a 
 hotel, and each began praising the particular make of 
 safe that he was representing. 
 
 One of them said, "Just to give you an illustration 
 of the superiority of our safes, I will tell you of a test 
 we made recently. We put a living rooster in one of 
 our safes, built a huge fire around it, and left it in this 
 intense heat for twenty-four hours. When we opened 
 the door of the safe, the rooster stepped out, flapped his 
 wings, and crcrwed, as lively as when we first put him 
 in." 
 
 "That is nothing," remarked the other salesman. 
 " Our company made the same test, putting a living 
 rooster in a safe and leaving it in the fire for twenty- 
 four hours. But when we opened the safe, the rooster 
 was dead." 
 
 "Ha, ha!" laughed the first salesman; " so I 
 thought." 
 
 "Yes," returned the other; "he was frozen to 
 death." 
 
 W. B. Otto, Chattanooga, Tenn. 
 
 RECIPROCITY. 
 
 " Here is a little flower fer yez, Bridget," said pa- 
 trolman McFarrin, gallantly bowing and extending a 
 full-blown, blushing rose through the open kitchen win- 
 dow. 
 
 " An' be gorrah, I'm afther a returnin' of the com- 
 plimint," quickly replied the unapproachable culinary 
 queen, as she heartlessly dumped a sifterful of the 
 principal ingredient of the staff of life down upon thf 
 hapless head of the guardian of the law. 
 
 Max F. C mningham, Flora, III. 
 
 NOT ENTIRELY FREE. 
 ' Pat, did ye know Oi wor a Free Mason ?" 
 'How th' divil kin thot be, men, whin ye jist towld me ye hod a woife an' tin childer."
 
 Stretching a Joke. 
 
 ONCE there was a country boy who came to the city 
 to forge his way in the world. 
 
 He secured a position in a wholesale grocery, 
 working conscientiously and faithfully. By stint and 
 sacrifice he saved a nice portion of his earnings, until at 
 the end of two years he had about two hundred dollars 
 in the bank to his credit. 
 
 Coincident with this date chronicled above, a well- 
 dressed and smooth-talking agent of a Nevada gold-min- 
 ing company came along and met the country boy. 
 After some clever descriptions regarding the marvels of 
 wealth buried in the shaft of a certain mountain and the 
 immense quantities of glittering treasures dragged from 
 the bowels of the earth, the two hundred dollars were 
 transferred from the bank to the agent, and a pretty en- 
 graved share of stock with the name of the country boy 
 upon it was carefully packed away in the tray of his 
 trunk. 
 
 A month passed and then a letter came. On the out- 
 side of the envelope was the name of the Nevada mining 
 company. On the inside was a check for one thousand 
 dollars, the first monthly payment on one share of stock. 
 
 Moral — Some humorists try to carry a joke too far. 
 
 JOHN H. MCNEELY. 
 
 The Real Test. 
 
 <( OOME people believe a man cannot smoke and be 
 *^ a Christian. Do you?" 
 " I've never tried any of your cigars." 
 
 Natural Inference. 
 
 Knicker- — "Jones is wrapped up in his auto." 
 Backer — " When did the accident occur?" 
 
 DIRT CHEAP. 
 
 Simply Great. 
 
 OpHE train dispatcher opened the door of the waiting- 
 * room and let loose. 
 
 " T'ain f 'r Blubb'er, Rummin', Blib-Blib, Wh' P'ains, 
 Do'ces' Ites, Redin', an' Kins'on! Ga' num'um!" 
 
 "Oh, oh!" exclaimed the college freshman. " Isn't 
 that a bully yell?" 
 
 Another Stage Victim. 
 
 MARY made an awfus fuss 
 Getting hit by an omnibus. 
 Thinking of it makes her wince. 
 She's been stage-struck ever since. 
 
 Incumbered. 
 
 Magistrate — " You are willing to go bail for John 
 Preston and offer your farm as security? Have you any 
 incumbrance on the farm?" 
 
 Farmei — "Oh, yes; my old woman." 
 
 THE SUICIDE CLUB. 
 Fresident — "Brothers, another section of subway has been opened, and the new resenoirs will soon be full. On to gloryl"
 
 The Summer Boarder's Kick 
 
 By A. B. Lewis 
 
 CALKINS, the city chap, who had spent a few 
 weeks in the country and expected spring chicken, 
 roast beef, and ice-cream three times a day, was 
 bidding the landlord, an aged farmer, good-by at the de- 
 pot, and he thought it would be a good time to relieve 
 his mind. 
 
 !'%_4u^Cl: \ 
 
 -REJ 
 
 HARD TO GET OUT. 
 
 Finnigan — " An' is there anny money in goats .''" 
 
 Hennigan — " There is in thot wan." 
 
 Finnigan — " So ?" 
 
 Hennigan — " Yis. He ate me pocketbook this marnin'. " 
 
 " Your so-called hotel," he said, " would be a para- 
 dise for people who had been wrecked on a desert island 
 six or seven years, but " 
 
 " Wa-al, that's real good of ye to say so," broke in 
 the farmer, who thought a compliment was intended. 
 
 "Oh, you can keep the 
 change," continued the man from 
 the city, sarcastically. "The 
 meals you serve would probably 
 tickle a longshoreman to death, 
 but" 
 
 " By gum! but it's kind of ye 
 to praise Sary's cookin' so!" en- 
 thusiastically interrupted the 
 landlord again. " She'll be as 
 proud as a settin' hen when I 
 tell her." 
 
 " Yes; she ought to be proud 
 of her work. She'd be a gem on 
 a canal-boat, but " 
 
 " She would, hey? Wa-al, 
 I've alius said Sary could lay 
 over any thin' in the county on 
 cookin', an' now you come along 
 an' back me up in it. Why, I 
 hev to chase the hired man away 
 from the table with a club, or 
 he'd kill hisself eatin'." 
 
 " Oh, he'll kill himself if he lives with you a little 
 longer. And those corn-husk mattresses your guests 
 have to sleep on. Say, they're the limit!" 
 
 " They be, hey? Wa-al, it's jest fine of ye to say so! 
 By gum ! but Sary kin stir up a bed ! Slept like a baby, 
 hey?" 
 
 "Yes; just about as much as most babies sleep 
 at night. You must have heard me moving around 
 at all hours, but thought I was anxious for breakfast 
 time to come around, so that I could have some more 
 of that hash you serve." 
 
 "Jest what I told Sary — jest what I told her! 
 She kinder thought you was tired o' hash, an' how 
 tickled she'll be when I tell her you couldn't sleep 
 fur thinkin' of it!" 
 
 The man from the city was wondering how he 
 could make his kick better understood, but when he 
 saw tears of pride and gratitude in the old farmer's 
 eyes, he gave it up as a bad job and boardej his train 
 with a sickly smile on his face. 
 
 A Modest Singer. 
 
 DO not care who makes the laws 
 Of this great land of mine. 
 If I can only sing her songs, 
 And get one bone jjer line. 
 
 I 
 
 Misunderstood £ach Other. 
 
 t«''TpHE second girl on the left is gorgeously 
 * painted," whispered the gentleman with 
 chin whiskers. 
 
 " Great Scott!" exclaimed the bald-headed man. " I 
 thought they were tights." 
 
 Some men never head a procession until they're dead. 
 
 NO GROUNDS FOR LYING. 
 
 Sea-Tjer (In railroad eating-house) — "Waiter, waiter I this coffee tastes like lye. 
 Why in thunder do you serve such stuff?" 
 
 Waiter — "Well, to tell you the truth, It is four parts lye. We serve it that way to 
 dissolve the sandwich so it can be digested. "
 
 INFORMATION WANTED. 
 Ticket agent—" Well, what is it? Don't keep the other people waiting." 
 Weary — " I merely wish ter know, sir, if de nort'-bound t'rough freight is 
 on time." 
 
 The Retort Courteous. 
 
 Street raihvay superintendent — " I don't think we 
 can use you any longer. Your cash register doesn't ring 
 often enough." 
 
 Conductor — " I have got rheumatism and can't reach 
 up to the register cord." 
 
 Superintendent — " All right. I think you need a long 
 (Vacation." 
 
 Conductor — " I am much obliged to you 
 for allowing me to run the car as long as 
 you have." 
 
 Superintendent — " Don't mention it. I'm 
 much obliged to you for bringing the car HeMGL-Sft 
 
 back." "^^ 
 
 A " Stand-by " All Right. 
 
 Landlady's son (addicted to nickel lit- 
 erature) — "Say, pardner, what's meant 
 by ' stand by to repel boarders '?" 
 
 Mr. Neivcome (sadly eying his des- 
 sert) — " Stewed prunes!" 
 
 Conclusive. 
 
 First doctor — " Do you consider the 
 operation absolutely necessary?" 
 
 Second doctor — -"Surely! The only 
 way we can possibly find out what ails 
 him is to have a post-mortem." 
 
 A Contingency Foreseen. 
 
 (( I UNDERSTAND," observed thevis- 
 iter, " that there is talk of investi- 
 gating some of the corporations that you 
 are interested in. I hope you are pre- 
 pared to welcome such a move." 
 
 " We shall be prepared," replied Sen- 
 In fact, I may say that preparations on 
 the part of the company have been in progress for some 
 time." 
 
 ator 
 
 Laying On of Hands. 
 
 Carsone — " I believe in the laying on of hands." 
 
 Gebhart— "Yon do?" 
 
 Carsone — " Yes ; I cured my boy of swearing with it. 
 
 Johnny's Career as an Office Boy. 
 
 fONDAY, hired. 
 Tuesday, tired. 
 Wednesday, fired. 
 
 M^ 
 
 Partly Making Good. 
 
 Suburbanite (Monday morning) — " What 
 do you think of that, Mary? — a letter from 
 the cook I hired Saturday, canceling her en- 
 gagement." 
 
 His wife — "The mean thing! What 
 reason does she give?" 
 
 Suburbanite — " She says she has decided 
 to cut out the kerosene circuit for the pres- 
 ent, but if we'll move to town she'll give us 
 a trial." 
 
 Probably. 
 
 First skeptic — " How do you suppose 
 Noah could see during all that flood and 
 darkness?" 
 
 The believer — " He probably had arc- 
 lighta aboard." 
 
 WRONG DIAGNOSIS. 
 He — " I feel rotten. I didn t sleep all last night" 
 She — "Dear me ! Insomnia r" 
 He— " No— er— poker."
 
 Scene. 
 
 A parlor in a flat. She is discovered, rocking the 
 baby in a cradle. 
 
 She — Late again! And it's my birthday! I will 
 stand it no longer. After having given the maid an 
 evening out in honor of the occasion, and cooking the 
 dinner myself, he thinks fit to be an hour late. Busi- 
 ness, I suppose. Bah! I — oh, here he comes at last! 
 
 He — (Enters quickly and goes toward her, making as 
 if to embrace her.) 
 
 She — How dare you? You can spare your caresses! 
 
 He — (Pauses, looks at her dubiously, and attempts to 
 take her hand.) 
 
 She — Don't touch me! All is over between us. I 
 will not — no, I will not endure this treatment any 
 longer ! 
 
 He — (Gives a look of astonishment.) 
 
 She — Oh, you needn't feign surprise! I'm ashamed 
 of you ! 
 
 He — (Sighs and sits down.) 
 
 She — -Yes; naturally, after having been out amusii^s; 
 yourself, you need a little repose. 
 
 HE-^(Rises to offer her his seat.) 
 
 She — Don't disturb yourself. I'm sorry I waited for 
 you. It's now nine o'clock, and 
 
 He — (Points to clock.) 
 
 MOTHS.
 
 She— Pshaw ! That clock 
 is slow, and you are per- 
 fectly aware of it. 
 
 He — (Takes out watch 
 and looks at it.) 
 
 She — Your watch is no 
 better. I wonder you didn't 
 stay out all night, while 
 you were about it. I sup- 
 pose it never occurred to 
 you that it was my birth- 
 day? 
 
 He — (Nods affirmative- 
 
 ly.) 
 
 She — Don't wag your 
 head like a mandarin! 
 
 He — (Smiles indulgent- 
 
 ly-) 
 
 She — You look as if you'd 
 been enjoying yourself huge- 
 ly — in low company, I'll be 
 bound. You're not very en- 
 tertaining at home. I sup- 
 pose you only put on your 
 engaging manners like you 
 do your dress clothes — when 
 you go out ! 
 
 He — (Opens his mouth 
 to protest, and makes mo- 
 tion as if to soothe her.) 
 
 She — Keep your blandishments for those who appre- 
 ciate them. You can't deceive me. Who was it this 
 time? 
 
 He — (Shrugs his shoulders and lights a cigarette.) 
 
 She — You can't deny you went somewhere on the 
 way home. 
 
 He — (Assents.) 
 She — Of course. 
 
 I knew 
 
 it. 
 
 UNDER FIRE. 
 
 May — " There were several army officers there, but not 
 one of them asked me to dance." 
 
 Be/le — " And they are accustomed to the smell of pow- 
 der, too." 
 
 He — (Lays back in chair 
 impatiently.) 
 
 She — Please don't sulk. 
 I abominate sulkiness in a 
 man. Well, if you're not 
 going to speak to me, we'd 
 better separate. 
 
 He — (Looks at her with 
 surprise.) 
 
 She — You've nothing to 
 say even to that? No, don't 
 answer me. Don't attempt 
 any apology. 
 
 He — (Wheels his chai 
 to window, with back to 
 her.) 
 
 She— That's right! In- 
 sult me! Haven't I always 
 been a good, faithful wife 
 to you? Why are you con- 
 siderate to every one but 
 me? 
 
 He — (Turns h'S head 
 over chair and looks at her 
 with friendly gesture.) 
 
 She — Yes, that's all very 
 well; but it seems extreme- 
 ly hard for you to show any sympathy for the woman 
 who loves you. 
 
 He — (Gets up and advances toward her.) 
 She — Not another step I I insist on knowing every- 
 thing you've done since you left the office! 
 He— (Smiles.) 
 
 No chance for Snoozer to nap during fly-time 
 
 until he spied his wife's unfinished piece of fancy 
 
 work of spider-web design
 
 She (sobbing) — This is only 
 the beginning of my misery ! 
 
 He — (Stands aghast. Then 
 again he approaches her.) 
 
 She — No; you've broken 
 my heart. My poor mother 
 told me how it would be. She 
 said I would find you out some 
 day. 
 
 He — (Whistles in astonish- 
 ment.) 
 
 She — Now you're swearing 
 under your breath. Why, why 
 did you deliberately select this 
 day of all others to make me 
 miserable? I know you forgot 
 all about it. 
 
 He — (Shakes his head.) 
 
 She — Oh, don't make mat- 
 ters worse by denying it ! 
 
 He — (Takes a step toward 
 the cradle.) 
 
 She — Don't touch her! 
 You've no feeling for either of 
 us. Why don't you speak? 
 
 He — (Loses patience and 
 walks up and down the room.) 
 
 She — Why did I marry a man with such a temper? 
 
 He — (Raises his hands in astonishment.) 
 
 She — Can't I make you see how terribly you treat 
 
 He — (Drops his hands in despair.) 
 
 She — Not a 
 thought of me while 
 
 A CINCH. 
 
 Teacher — "You must be a good boy and study 
 hard, and maybe you'll grow up to be a great man 
 and have your birthday celebrated, too" 
 
 Bobby — "Wot good 'ud dat do me? I wuz 
 born on de Fourth uv July." 
 
 you're away! Why 
 can't you think of 
 my happiness some- 
 times? 
 
 He — (Gives a 
 chuckle and puts 
 his hand in his 
 pocket.) 
 
 She — Utterly 
 callous — utterly — 
 
 He— (Takes 
 hand out of pocket 
 and hands her a vel- 
 vet jewel case.) 
 
 She — I'm — (see- 
 ing the case and 
 reading theinscrip- 
 tii^n) — "To my 
 dear wife on her 
 birthday." So it 
 was to buy this you 
 were late? Oh, you 
 dear hubby, I do 
 love you ! 
 
 (They embrace, 
 ind the baby cries 
 with fervor.) 
 
 [Author's Note — The care- 
 ful reader has observed that in 
 all this conversation the hus- 
 band did not say a word. As usu- 
 al, the woman did all the talk- 
 ing-] 
 
 Desperate Remedies. 
 
 ¥T WAS just before daybreak 
 — the darkest hour of the 
 night. The shutters of a 
 third-story window in a large 
 summer hotel noiselessly open- 
 ed and a heavy object was 
 cautiously lowered to the 
 ground. A young man in 
 fashionable clothes, gripping a 
 heavy hand-bag in his teeth 
 and an umbrella and a cane 
 under his arm, slid hurriedly 
 down the rope to the ground. 
 With nervous fingers he untied 
 his suit-case, tiptoed out of 
 the yard, and started at a trot 
 across lots to the station a 
 mile and a half away. 
 
 The first golden beams were 
 dancing across the eastern hills as the young man neared 
 the depot. The sleeper whistled sharply for the station 
 and he quickened his pace into a mad run, heedless of 
 his aching arms and the sand in his low shoes. 
 
 "It's a bad get-away," muttered the young man 
 
 three minutes later 
 in the smoker as he 
 wiped his steaming 
 face, " but my bills 
 are all paid. I left 
 tips for the ser- 
 vants and a hurried 
 note explaining 
 that an uncle had 
 died in Honduras or 
 some other place. 
 It certainly was a 
 desperate chance, 
 but the only means 
 I could think of to 
 get away from that 
 straw ride the girls 
 have planned for 
 to-morrow." 
 
 DON. CAMERON SHAFER. 
 
 
 H' 
 
 ■jCPool^f:- 
 
 PARTICLE 
 
 OF SMOKE, 
 MICROBE. 
 
 CONTAINING FOURTH OF JULY 
 HIGHLY MAGNIFIED. 
 
 riS SAILS full 
 spread, h i s 
 rudder swinging 
 wildly, his craft 
 shipping water as 
 it bears away, hell- 
 bent for nowhere — 
 such is a blusterer.
 
 On Business Principles 
 
 By E. MIRRIELEES 
 
 I HAD had Peter plant hyacinths on my Uncle Wil- 
 liam's grave and they had bloomed and faded; 
 then I had had him plant roses, and they had 
 bloomed and faded, and still the murderer of my 
 Uncle William was undiscovered. 
 
 As my Uncle William's heir and business successor, 
 I felt this condition of affairs bitterly, and it was as the 
 result of brooding over it, and over his dying charge to 
 me, that I at last determined to engage my friend Keene 
 to ferret out the mystery. Mr. Keene was a gentleman, 
 nominally a lawyer, who dwelt, quite retired from the 
 world, in the heart of Brooklyn. Only myself and a few 
 intimate friends knew that, in fact, the profession 
 of law was his pastime, and that his real occupation 
 was the hunting down of famous criminals and the 
 solving of those important problems which had al- 
 ready baffled the law-enforcing world. 
 
 It was the very simplicity of my case which so 
 far had kept me from him. Finally, however, de- 
 spair drove me to an appeal, and hardly had my 
 messenger had time to return from the great man's 
 retreat, before Keene himself followed in person, to 
 gain from me a few additional details. I offered to 
 show him the room in which the murder had been 
 committed, but he refused with characteristic de- 
 cision. 
 
 "No — tell me about it. There's not much to a 
 «imple thing like this. No use climbing stairs." 
 
 Pera/ts^ff 
 
 SWEET POTATOES. 
 
 " It's on this floor," I answered; "but I can tell 
 you. It was on the evening of the seventeenth of 
 April at about seven-forty o'clock " 
 
 " Never mind the hour." 
 
 " Well, I won't, then. It was on the evening of 
 the seventeenth of April that I determined to come 
 downstairs " 
 
 " I don't care what yon did!" cried Keene, spring- 
 ing out of his chair. " Get to the murder !" 
 
 I looked at him in perplexity. I was afraid these 
 little interruptions would make me inaccurate. 
 
 " I'm sorry," I said, " I can't tell the story any 
 other way. I've told it so often." And I went on 
 with my recital. 
 
 " That I determined to come downstairs and get 
 my book from the library. I was reading ' Peter Pan.' 
 I opened the door and saw my Uncle William lying on 
 the floor, with the remnant of a wallet clasped in his 
 hand; his skull had been fractured by some blunt instru- 
 ment. There was no one in the room, for I looked ; but 
 there was a losv window opening on the street, through 
 which a murderer might have come. My uncle recovered 
 consciousness only once. That was long enough to seize 
 my hand and say, 'Willy, discover my murderer! I 
 charge you, discover my murderer!' Then he died." 
 
 "That's important!" Keene broke in. "That's 
 
 ■< 
 
 THOSE MOUNTAIN-RESORT GIRLS. 
 Lady boarder, at same house^^^ Oh, Mr. Spriggins — John — 
 won't you please pick that sweet spray of columbine on your 
 way up?"
 
 
 HSMGL'I^ 
 
 Motorist- 
 
 Nati-ve—" Haw ! 
 watches is too accurate. 
 
 HE SPOKE FEELINGLY. 
 ' I suppose all the police around here use stop-watches ?" 
 They relies most on their own judgments. 
 
 Stqp- 
 
 the murderer's place and decide what 
 yon'd do. Can you be at home to-mor- 
 row night? No? Well, the night after? 
 And you'd better give me a check for 
 half that money now, and have the rest 
 by you." 
 
 On the night in question I remained 
 at home, pacing up and down my library 
 in a state of great excitement. Would 
 Keene come himself? Or would the mur- 
 derer be dragged in by policemen? I 
 was so deep in speculation that I was 
 only half conscious of a low tapping at 
 the library door until the door was slid 
 softly open from without. A thin, un- 
 dersized young man stood on the thresh- 
 old, peering near-sightedly at me through 
 heavy glasses. He held an evening paper 
 in his hand. 
 
 "Good-evening," he murmured, when 
 I noticed him. " I am speaking with Mr. 
 Herrick?" 
 
 "Yes, with Mr. William Herrick," I 
 
 awfully important! Are you sure that's 
 just what he said?" 
 
 " Exactly. He said just those words. 
 Then he died." 
 
 "I see," said Keene thoughtfully. 
 Then what you want to do is " 
 
 "To discover him! I don't care so 
 much about getting back the money- 
 there was eight thousand in that wallet 
 — I don't even care about — er — exposing 
 the villain. But I must fulfill my uncle's 
 dying charge." 
 
 "I see," Keene repeated, this time 
 more thoughtfully. " Well, how much 
 are you willing to pay for it— to cover 
 expenses, of course?" 
 
 "Twenty thousand dollars," I an- 
 swered firmly. It was a large sum, but 
 peace of mind is worth something; and, 
 besides, I had underestimated my Uncle 
 William's life insurance by exactly twen- 
 ty thousand. " We have found out a 
 few things," I went on. "The detec- 
 tives have discovered that the murderer 
 brushed against the window casings in 
 getting in, showing that he was a large, 
 stout man who had difficulty in passing. 
 He must have seen my Uncle William 
 from the street, and from that they 
 thought his eyes " 
 
 "Don't tell me what they thought!" 
 Keene checked me. " Can't you see Fm 
 thinking?" 
 
 He sunk his head in his hands for a 
 minute or two. Then he rose, reaching 
 for his hat and cane. "It's perfectly 
 simple," he said. " Just put yourself in 
 
 LUNAR INHABITANTS ARE FOND OF POINTING OUT TO 
 
 THEIR CHILDREN, ON A CLEAR NIGHT, "THE 
 
 WOMAN IN THE EARTH '
 
 assured him. I suppressed the accustomed "junior" with 
 a sigh. 
 
 The stranger started slightly at the name. " Then I 
 think we have a little business together," he said, after 
 a moment. He closed the door carefully, and, coming 
 forward, laid the paper he was carrying in the circle of 
 light on the table. I noticed that it was open at the 
 " Wants " page. One advertisement in the column was 
 heavily starred. 
 
 "$10,000 Reward — If the slight, near-sighted 
 man who, on the evening of April 17th, mur- 
 dered a gentleman in his library will call at 
 the house of the gentleman in question, be- 
 tween the hours of seven and nine, he will re- 
 ceive the above reward. No questions." 
 
 t laid down the paper, half dazed. I recognized the 
 handof Keene; but the genius, the superlative clever- 
 ness of his move left me breathless. He had put my 
 appeal directly to the man himself; he had even omitted 
 giving a house number, so that none but the right man 
 might apply. And yet, when I glanced at the new- 
 comer, a doubt stirred within me. 
 
 "I'm the man," said the stranger. "My name is 
 Mills, and I did it. I was sorry to do it," he added, 
 " but I needed the money." 
 
 " You are — not large," I ventured. 
 
 Mr. Mills shook his head. " I'm "very strong. I've 
 been a gymnasium worker all my life. Besides, I had 
 my cane. I came quietly in through the window, and 
 Mr. Herrick was sitting with his back to me — why, just 
 
 THE OLD PLAINT OF THE CIVILIAN. 
 ' Gie I if I had a pair o' dem dinky pants an' some shiny leg-mitts, mebbe I wouldn't have a string o' dames.'
 
 sit down in that chair for a minute, and I'll show 
 you" 
 
 " No^no, thank you," I demurred. " I quite believe 
 it was you." 
 
 "Well, then," Mr. Mills suggested. His eyes 
 dropped significantly to the heading of the advertisement. 
 
 I went to the safe, unlocked it, and counted out the 
 money. I looked over 
 my shoulder once or twice 
 as I did so, but my guest 
 remained standing on the 
 farther side of the table. 
 I felt a little ashamed, 
 then, of having looked, 
 but you can't help being 
 nervous. When the 
 money was counted, I 
 laid the roll of bills on 
 the straw hat which Mr. 
 Mills had deposited on 
 the table. "And now," 
 I said impressively, "I 
 hope that you'll " 
 
 " Reform " was the 
 word I meant, but it was 
 "prosper" which came. 
 
 Mr. Mills smiled fee- 
 bly at me and nodded. He 
 seemed to be struggling 
 against some embarrass- 
 ment. 
 
 " See here," he said 
 at last. " I understand 
 
 ^\5^-' 
 
 ACCURATE. 
 Landlady— " My other tenants complained of the noise last 
 night. You assured me that you retired early." 
 
 Neiu tenant — " So I do, so I do — early in the morning. '' 
 
 you can't feel very kindly to me, but I want you to see 
 how it was. I'd like to talk the matter over." 
 
 I waved my arm toward a chair; he seated himself 
 on its edge. 
 
 " I told you I needed the money," he repeated, in a 
 firmer voice. " I was not in debt, but I was not estab- 
 lished in any way of life. I took that eight thousand 
 
 and invested it in the 
 stock of a small drug- 
 store. I have gotten on 
 nicely in a small way — 
 I hope to own my build- 
 ing before long — but, all 
 the same, it has worried 
 me that my start was 
 not entirely honest. You 
 know how those things 
 can trouble a man. I've 
 fairly brooded over it. 
 So when I saw this offer 
 — and I knew it would 
 be a long time before I 
 could take that much out 
 of the business — I de- 
 cided to get the matter 
 off my mind." 
 
 He laid a part of the 
 roll of bills on the table. 
 "There!" he said, 
 rising; "there's your 
 eight thousand. It's go- 
 ing to be a great relief 
 to me to know that 
 
 >^tN&l^.|^.. 
 
 ■ — ■ = — — -j^^^iruKu 
 
 ANNOYING. 
 Photography enthusiast (while drowning man calls for help) — " Confound that fellow ! How does he expect me to 
 do two things at once ?"
 
 Mrj. Weighty — " Rowing so much will make you n 
 Slimmy (the boatman) — I don't believe I'll live to 
 
 A BAi_. OUTLOOK. 
 
 eal strong when you grow up to be a man." 
 grow up, mum." 
 
 everything I have invested is my own." He hesitated a 
 moment, twirling his hat between his fingers. 
 
 " 1 — I hope there's no hard feeling. It was a very 
 clever advertisement," he murmured. 
 
 I rose, too. I was even more embarrassed than he. 
 As he said, there could not be a very cordial relation be- 
 tween us — he had undoubtedly murdered my Uncle Wil- 
 liam. But, on the other hand, eight thousand is a good 
 deal to get back unexpectedly all at once. Besides, I'm 
 collecting my uncle's rents now, and we frequently open 
 that library window for ventilation. 
 
 " Do you mean to — will you — call again?" I ventured, 
 as he vanished through the door. 
 
 Didn't Matter Much. 
 
 OpHE LOVE-SICK young man ran up the steps and 
 was met at the door by a very pretty young lady. 
 
 "Constance," he said eagerly, as he held out his 
 hand to her, " did you get my letter this morning?" 
 
 " No, " carelessly returned she; "I presume Vivian 
 took it." 
 
 "Vivian!" The swain blushed profusely. "Why, 
 that letter was ad- 
 dressed to you !" 
 
 " Yes; but Vivian 
 and I are twins and 
 look alike, you know. 
 Indeed, our most in- 
 timate friends often 
 mistake each for the 
 other!" 
 
 " But your names 
 are nothing alike," 
 stammered the be- 
 wildered young man. 
 " I wrote 'Constance 
 Withers ' very plain- 
 ly on the outside of 
 
 POPULAR SONG. 
 "Ain't it awful, Mabel.'" 
 
 that letter. I don't see how any such mistake could 
 be made." 
 
 " Oh, it wasn't a mistake ! Anyhow, it doesn't make 
 much difference." 
 
 " What? Constance, that letter contained more than 
 you think ! In it I made apology for my too ardent ac- 
 tions before you last night; and, furthermore, I sent it 
 to ask you if — if you would be my-" 
 
 " But it belonged to Vivian !" 
 
 " Are you crazy? I beg pardon ! I meant — goodness 
 gracious! how has Vivian anything to do with the let- 
 ter?" 
 
 " Because when you made love last night you mistook 
 Vivian for me!" charles c. mullin. 
 
 Observations of a Sport. 
 
 OOME people are temporarily embarrassed all the 
 ^^ time. 
 
 Many a man goes fishing and comes home with a 
 hunted look. 
 
 Jug not — that ye be not jugged. 
 The best gamblers don't gamble. 
 
 Trumps are some- 
 times found in the 
 discard. 
 
 The piper has been 
 overpaid — and we 
 are still dancing. 
 
 ROBERT CARLTON BROWN. 
 
 ««1*HERE'Ssome- 
 * thing on 
 foot." 
 
 " Why do you 
 think so?" 
 
 " I saw him go- 
 ing into a chiropo- 
 dist's."
 
 His "Pitty Itty Picture 
 
 99 
 
 By MAX MERRYMAN 
 
 ••Y' 
 
 'ES; IT'S the very first time he ever had his 
 jihotograph taken, so, of course, we want 
 to get the very best picture possible, and 
 — no, grandma; I don't think, after all, 
 that we'd better try to have 
 it taken with his little rat- 
 tle in hand. Do you, Aunt 
 Harriet? You see, he would 
 be apt to want to shake the 
 rattle at the very moment 
 when the photographer 
 wants him to be perfectly 
 still; but I don't believe we 
 can get him to keep per- 
 fectly still for ten seconds. 
 He is really the most active 
 child I ever saw, Mr. Pho- 
 tographer. He doesn't even 
 lie still in his sleep. I real- 
 ly think that it is nervous- 
 ness more than anything- 
 else. The doctor says that 
 the child is perfectly well. 
 In fact, I never saw a 
 healthier child. He has 
 never been sick a minute, 
 and he is six months old to- 
 day. I didn't want his pho- 
 tograph taken any earlier 
 
 AN ACCURATE PHRASE. 
 
 "Where in blazes have you been, Tom? \ haven't 
 seen you for a year." 
 
 " I've been in New York blazes. I'm on the fire de- 
 partment, an' this is me day off. " 
 
 than that, for I think that a baby hardly ever has much 
 expression until he is about six months old, although 
 every one says that our little Reginald is different 
 from most babies in that respect. His Aunt Lucy was 
 
 saying yesterday that he 
 had the most intelligent ex- 
 pression of any — oh ! I want 
 several negatives taken, and 
 see which one I like best. 
 His grandma — that is, my 
 mother here — wants one 
 just head and shoulders; and 
 his other grandma is very 
 anxious to have a full fig- 
 ure, with him lying on a 
 pillow we brought with us. 
 His Aunt Lucy wants us to 
 try and get a profile of him 
 for her, for she says he has 
 really a remarkable profile 
 for a child of his age; and 
 I want one picture with him 
 in my arms, and his dear 
 little cheek cuddled up to 
 mine; and then we think it 
 would be nice to have him 
 and his two grandmas taken 
 together; and I want one 
 with him and my mother 
 
 INFORMATION W AN IKD. 
 Nora (just over, listening to her first phonograph)—" Wondherful ! An' shall Oi give it bird-seed an' sich, loike th' 
 others, or do it ate at th' table w d yez i"
 
 and myself all in it, showing three genera- 
 tions. I think that — better not fuss with 
 his hair, grandma. Those little curls are 
 about right, and I hope they will show good 
 in the picture. So many people rave over 
 his hair. My sister has a baby boy, ten 
 months old, and he hasn't a third as much 
 hair as our baby has; but then he has nev- 
 er been real well, and he weighs a pound 
 less than our baby, and — yes; we will be 
 ready in just a few minutes. We want to 
 slip on his best dress. We brought it with 
 us in a box, so that it wouldn't be all mussed 
 up by him wearing it. Then we brought his 
 best little cap, that his Aunt Jennie sent 
 nim from out West, and we want one taken 
 with it on to send to her. This odd little 
 rattle we brought is one his grandma had 
 when she was a baby, and she thinks it 
 would be nice to have it in his hand when it 
 is taken. I am expecting his father in every 
 minute. He said that he would meet us 
 here at — here he is now ! Here we are, 
 papa, baby and all, and — see him hold out 
 his little hands to his papa! He did that 
 when he was only four months and one week 
 old, and a friend of mine has a baby, eight 
 months old, that has never yet held out its 
 hands to any one. I want one photograph 
 with the baby in his father's arms, and — be 
 careful, papa! Don't get the child excited, 
 or it will be so hard to get him still for his 
 picture. The moment he sees his father he 
 wants to romp and play. He is so full of 
 vitality and — no, Aunt Kitty, I don't be- 
 lieve that we'd better all go into the operating-room 
 with him. I think that if his papa and his two grand- 
 mas and I go it will be enough. Too many might 
 distract him and make it hard to keep him still. Is 
 your father coming in, papa? ifou know, he said when 
 Jje was over to the house last night that perhaps he 
 
 GUESS THE BOY'S HOME TOWN.? 
 
 Resident — " Be you lost. Bub ?" 
 
 Summer hoy — "That's a personal matter that I decline to discuss with 
 an individual with whom I have had no previous acquaintance, nor even a 
 formal introduction." 
 
 would try to come in, and we thought that maybe we 
 would have him and you and the baby taken together, 
 as you all have the same name. I do think that it is 
 nice to hand down a family name from one genera- 
 tion to another, and — yes, we will be ready in just 
 a moment, as soon as — now, mamma's baby is going to 
 
 A DIPLOMATIC HUSBAND. 
 His wife was always kicking because he spent his So he gave wifey some shares in a mine, and she was up 
 
 time while home from worit in doping up the stock early every morning to get the paper, 
 market She said stocks made fools of people.
 
 MmcUt^ 
 
 dfa^~\ 1 ^'/J) 
 
 ACCURATE, BUT MISLEADING. 
 
 Pa — " I think you should make a reduction in his case. He 
 only eats one meal a day." 
 
 Lady — " One meal a day ? Well, well ! Yes ; 1 can make 
 a reduction. When does he take this one meal ?" 
 
 Pa — " From about eight a. m. till twilight, as a rule. '' 
 
 have his own, owney, itty picture taken, so he is, 
 and he must be ever and ever so — what? Baby isn't 
 going to cry! Oh, my, my! Tut, tut, tut! He won't 
 cry long. He never does. A cousin of mine has a baby 
 that will cry all night, but, of course, the poor child 
 isn't well. I don't think that well babies ever cry much, 
 and I know that — papa, you'd better step out of sight 
 
 until I get him ready. He wants to go to you when you 
 are around. I do hope that the pictures will come out 
 good. You see, we want to have some of them enlarged 
 if they are good, and, as I say, it is his first photograph, 
 and — baby doin' to have his own, owney, pitty itty pic- 
 ture taken — yes, he is ! The picture man will show baby 
 itty bird — yes, he will ! Baby must be good. Hand me 
 a safety-pin, some one. Have you his little corab, 
 grandma? Aunty Lou, supposing you moisten a corner 
 of my handkerchief with water. There is a tiny smooch 
 on one cheek. There, I think he is about ready. I do 
 hope the picture will come out good ! We mean to have 
 more taken on his first birthday, and every birthday 
 after that, and — no, papa, I'd better carry him into the 
 operating-room. Tome, baby, and have his owney, own, 
 pitty itty picture taken!" 
 
 The " Cord " That Wasn't Lost. 
 
 <i ¥JINE knot," the woodman said; 
 
 * " I'll soon return to yew. 
 The train I take on the Oakland branch 
 
 Leaves this here town at two." 
 
 She saw him board the waiting train; 
 
 His face was all a-beam. 
 They took his trunk and threw it in. 
 
 As the engine got up steam. 
 
 All spruced up, home at last he came, 
 
 A poplar man of mark. 
 She met him there, and at each kiss 
 
 Her little dog-wood bark. 
 
 STOVE, STOVE, WHO'S GOT THE RANGE? 
 Old Jones (settling argument) — " I tell yeh, Congress did right not to vote the people's money fer no four battleships. 
 Why, them navy fellers is thet extravagant an' keerless thet they're all the time losin' an' mislaying their stoves. Every 
 ship — I read it myself — hez range-finders onto it !''
 
 A Square Deal and a Square Meal 
 
 By JOHN KENDRICK BANGS 
 
 A DVICES from Washington state that the gum on the 
 * ■ back of the postage stamps is made of sweet po- 
 tato. This is all very well as far as it goes, but it does 
 not go far enough. If the public gum is to be made of 
 food-stuffs, why, in a republic like this, should one man's 
 taste be permitted to prevail over another's? We do not 
 all of us care for sweet potatoes, and we cannot be com- 
 pelled to even by the great I Yam himself, for all 
 his big stick and its power. The sweet potato is not a 
 bad thing, but there are thousands of us with cultivated 
 gastronomic tastes who prefer other edibles, like Cam- 
 embert cheese, canvas-back duck, lobsters, shrimp salad, 
 and so on — there are even people who can eat squash 
 with relish. Wherefore, why sweet potatoes exclu- 
 sively? Are all these other tastes to be ruthlessly ig- 
 nored because some bureaucrat likes sweet potatoes? 
 We trow not — not, at least, if this is the age of the 
 square deal. It is therefore respectfully suggested that 
 the Post-office Department vary that recipe a bit, and 
 give us a more extensive menu. Let the one-cent stamps 
 be gammed with sweet potato, if you will, but on the 
 twos let us have a hint of pickled oysters; give us a 
 three-cent stamp flavored with stewed rhubarb ; a four- 
 cent stamp with pumpkin pie; put mint sauce on the 
 nickel stamp; and so on up to the highest denomination, 
 catering as the stamps rise in value to the more ex- 
 pensive tastes. Surely if the man who never buys any- 
 thing more expensive than a penny stamp is entitled to 
 his sweet potato — and nobody denies that he is — the 
 chap who buys a dollar stamp should be able to get 
 
 something for his money in his gum — as the office-boy 
 says, he should get what is gumming to him — ruddy- 
 duck, pate de foie gras, or even a hint of a Bronx cock- 
 tail, if that is what he likes. 
 
 While we are on this subject, we feel constrained to 
 interpellate the Post-office Department also on the point 
 as to when it proposes to obey the mandates of the pure- 
 food law and stamp its gum with a statement of its in- 
 gredients? 
 
 Johnny's Fourth. 
 
 JOHNNY blew his eyebrows oflf. 
 " I don't care," said he. 
 " I can make another pair 
 With a cork, you see." 
 
 When his fingers went he said, 
 
 " Who cares, anyhow? 
 I won't have to practice on 
 The piano now." 
 
 When his legs departed he 
 Still remained quite cool. 
 " Good !" he chortled. " Now I sha'n't 
 Have to walk to school." 
 
 So it went. By slow degrees 
 
 Johnny blew away. 
 Celebrating with much zest 
 
 Independence Day; 
 
 And when night came on tho^ scene 
 Johnny cried with glee, 
 " Now there's nothing left, pa won't 
 Have to bury me!" 
 
 HOHACE DOOD GASTTT. 
 
 A TERRIBLE THREAT. 
 ' Now, look here, wifey ! If you don't stop nagging me I'll never button you up the back again.
 
 A RUSHING BUSINESS. 
 
 A CITY-BRED man, who had never been to the sea- 
 shore, decided one day to make the trip. 
 
 Arrived there, he remembered an old saying that sea 
 water was good to bathe aching feet in, and straightway 
 he took a bucket and proceeded to the seashore. 
 
 He noticed a party of men near the water, and, think- 
 ing they owned the sea water, he asked, " What do you 
 charge for a bucket of your water?" 
 
 "Twenty-five cents," answered one of the party, 
 who was out for a joke. 
 
 The city man handed over a quarter and filled his 
 bucket. 
 
 After bathing his feet in the salt water and finding 
 same beneficial, he decided later in the day to go and 
 buy him another bucket for another bath for his feet. 
 
 He accordingly took his bucket and proceeded again 
 to the shore. The tide had now gone down and the 
 water was at low ebb. 
 
 " H'm," he mused; " those fellows must have been 
 doing a rushing business since I left!" 
 
 Benjamin J. Strauch, Memphis, Tenn. 
 
 A GOOD REASON. 
 
 'l^HE OTHER day the school of a local town was vis- 
 * ited by an inspector. Wishing to test the knowl- 
 edge of the junior classes before leaving, he asked the 
 following question : 
 
 " Can any of you tell me why Adam was made a man?" 
 
 The class meditated for some time. At last a little 
 
 girl, sharper than the rest, exclaimed, " Please, sir, if 
 
 he was made a baby there wouldn't have been anybody 
 
 to nurse him!" 
 
 Walter Willse, Jersey City, N. J. 
 
 MORE LOVE-LESS DIVORCES. 
 
 ll^ORE of our rich papas in America should follow the 
 same manner of testing the affections of the ad- 
 venturous, commercial-minded, moneyless wife-hunters 
 — both those of our own nationality as well as the 
 empty-headed, titled foreigners who are " ramping" on 
 our hunting grounds- — that " Uncle Zeke " did in Austin 
 some time since. After several months of violent pro- 
 testations of love made for his daughter, it was at last 
 understood that the father was at their marriage to give 
 his daughter a house and lot. " Uncle Zeke " was a sly 
 old coon, and to test his future son-in-law's affections, 
 he said, as they were smoking their pipes, 
 
 " Mr. Crow, I has been cogitatin', an' has come to de 
 'elusion not to donate Matildy dat ar house an' lot on 
 Austin Avenue." 
 
 Mr. Crow sprang to his feet and, sticking his stove- 
 pipe hat on the side of his head, said, 
 
 " In dat case, sah, our future relations done ceased to 
 exist from dis moment, sah." 
 
 " But, Mr. Crow, I was gwine to say " 
 
 " Oh, go hire a hall an' invite yer friends to attend 
 de meetin' !" 
 
 "All right, Mistah Crow. Our relations has done 
 ceased to exist, but I only wanted to say dat dat house 
 am too small, so I am gwine to gib Matildy dat two-story 
 cottage on Peacon Street, wuf twict as much." 
 
 Jim tried to explain, also; but when " Uncle Zeke " 
 solemnly lifted a boot the size of a ham and pointed to 
 the door, James Crow refused to linger, 
 .'^lice Rollins Crane-Morajeska, Redondo Beach, Cal. 
 
 BUTCHER in Euknow, with a tobacco heart, was 
 told by his doctor to give up smoking hams. 
 
 THEY HELPED HIM TO RECALL HIS BOYHOOD. 
 
 1. " I tell you, boys, it makes me feel twenty years younger 
 to be back here in the old swimming-hole once more !'' 
 
 2. Somewhat later.
 
 A Close Game 
 
 By CHARLES L. FUNNELL 
 
 SPEAKING of close games always puts me in 
 mind of a game we played a few years ago. 
 It happened in our game with the Sluggers. 
 They came to Lemonhurst to play us, and we 
 used a couple of those new balls, made in two parts, 
 you know, and are "guaranteed to last a full game." 
 The first inning went off fine, but in the beginning of 
 the second we went to the bat, and Bill Nigh, our center 
 fielder, was up. Pretty soon he seen a slow in coming 
 his way, and he stepped back and lammed it. It hit on 
 the edge of his bat and so 
 went almost straight into 
 the air. Bill, he set sail for 
 first and then went off on the 
 other tack for second. See- 
 ing he had head winds for 
 third, he started his auxili- 
 ary and went around third on 
 two wheels and crossed the 
 plate at a record. When he 
 got there, though, he was 
 surprised to see everybody 
 rubbering skyward instead 
 of waiting to slap him on the 
 back. The ball hadn't come 
 down yet. Well, the um- Courtship, 
 
 pire he looked plumb through the rule-book five times 
 and couldn't find nothing to fit the occasion, so he al- 
 lowed he'd give it five minutes to come down, and if it 
 didn't show up then he'd resume the game. Well, 
 would you believe it, that ball never come down. We 
 resumed the game, and the stand was pretty nervous 
 because they didn't know just where that ball would 
 come down. We resumed with the other two-piece ball, 
 and we didn't get a run the rest of that inning. The 
 score was three to one in our favor when we went to 
 
 the bat in the third. Our 
 second baseman got up, and, 
 being a south paw, he fa- 
 vored ins and walked into a 
 nice one just as it crossed 
 the plate. The ball busted 
 in two pieces, and our man 
 ran to first. The pitcher 
 stopped half the ball and 
 shortstop the other. The 
 pitcher being rather slow 
 didn't catch on to the racket, 
 but shortstop threw the half 
 he got to first and put him 
 half out. Pitcher made the 
 Divorce. motion with his half and 
 
 THREE WICKS." 
 
 Marriage. 
 
 u 
 
 OT-TO l.A.MCi-^ 
 
 TRUE ENOUGH. 
 He (thinking aloud) — " The way these women claim to be independent and then become slaves 
 to a silly fashion ! Why, these absurd big hats tickle me half to death."
 
 IMAGINATION. 
 How" that expensive, big, red firecracker 
 looks to the small boy on Independence Day. 
 
 runner went to second, where he was put a 
 fourth more out by the half of the ball first 
 threw to second. Force of habit made the 
 runner leave second when pitcher made the 
 next motion, and he was caught on third by 
 second base's half of the ball, making him 
 altogether seven-eighths out. Third threw 
 his half to pitcher, and catcher threw his at 
 the same time, and, while pitcher was try- 
 ing to catch on, the runner got in, making 
 one-eighth of a run. Now the pitcher stuck 
 the pieces together and threw them both to 
 batter. Before they reached the plate, 
 though, they parted company, and the first 
 piece the batter knocked right into first's 
 hands, but the second, which came a minute 
 later, he lammed out for a home run, mak- 
 ing one-half a run. Then the umpire, who 
 had been teaching the scorekeeper algebra 
 so he could keep score, called for the other 
 ball which hadn't come down yet. So we 
 sent a kid after a ball made all in one piece, 
 guaranteed not to get the divorce fever. 
 Well, the rest of the game we made four 
 runs and they five, so the final score was 
 seven and five-eighths to six in our favor. 
 I said final, but the next day, when their 
 pitcher and catcher were having a catch in 
 our field, before taking the train for home, 
 the catcher suddenly went into a conniption 
 fit and began jumping up and down to beat 
 the band. Looking in the same direction 
 
 as the catcher had been gazing when taken with his fit, the pitcher 
 saw the cause of his excitement in the shape of a bpseball, a good 
 way off, but rapidly approaching. Following a sort of second 
 nature developed by ball players, he got under it and caught it. 
 Then it dawned on him that it was the same ball that Bill had 
 hit the day before. He promptly called the umpire, who identified 
 the sphere and declared Bill out, and the final score six and five- 
 eighths to six in our favor. That was the closest game I ever see. 
 
 A Philosophical Poem. 
 
 WHAT a wonderful thing is one's nose — 
 The guide to wherever one goes. 
 It bows low when we pray. 
 And is first in the fray. 
 And it tells, with its smells, all it knows. 
 
 What remarkable things are one's ears — 
 Undismayed by whatever appears. 
 
 Though they keep far apart. 
 
 They are loyal at heart — 
 Each tells one whatever it hears. 
 
 And consider one's fingers and toes — 
 Arranged, five together, in rows. 
 
 If they grew on one's back. 
 
 What convenience we'd lack — 
 And one couldn't lie down, I suppose. 
 
 RANDOLPH HARTLEY. 
 
 DELICACY. 
 "How'd yo' like ter do dat fo' me fo' life, Miss Johnsing.>''
 
 One on the Soda Clerk 
 
 By N. H. CROWELL 
 
 ^pHE DAY was hot and business at the soda fountain 
 * had been of the rush description. The clerk at 
 the upper end was enjoying a breathing spell when a tall, 
 thin man in a bamboo hat dashed in hurriedly and walked 
 briskly up to the bar. 
 
 "Just give me half a glass of water, will you?" 
 jerked the newcomer, as he threw up his elbows and 
 "lit" on a stool. The clerk obligingly drew half a 
 glass of water and slid it in front of him, bracing him- 
 self for further orders. 
 
 "A slice of that lemon — just a wafer, " suggested the 
 newcomer, with sudden interest. 
 
 The clerk, though slightly bewildered, complied. The 
 man dropped the lemon into the water and then put both 
 hands into his coat pockets. His right hand brought up 
 a pint bottle of whiskey and his left produced an egg. 
 Skillfully cracking the egg with a blow he dumped the 
 contents into the glass, following it immediately by 
 three stiff fingers of the liquor. Diving into a vest 
 
 pocket he produced a sprig of green that proved to be 
 mint. This went in and the man then slightly rose on 
 his toes and scanned the array of condiments and flavors 
 before him. Suddenly he shot out a long arm and 
 clutched the cinnamon shaker. 
 
 A few dashes of cinnamon and he seized a soda spoon 
 from a near-by rack and began stirring the mixture dex- 
 terously. When a bead appeared on top he withdrew 
 the spoon, yanked the glass to his lips and drank the 
 contents in six big, satisfying gulps. 
 
 Setting the empty glass down carefully, as he wiped 
 his taffy-colored mustache with a handkerchief, he rose 
 slowly to his feet. 
 
 " Gee ! Ain't this a warm one?" he remarked, as he 
 tugged at his collar in an effort to loosen it from his 
 neck. 
 
 Then he went out, leaving the clerk weak in the 
 knees and absolutely speechless. He had been up 
 against the very latest. 
 
 Also, Consarn It. 
 
 UP IN the mountains I would hie 
 And have a cool time in July 
 At some resort hotel up nigh 
 
 The summit. 
 I'd have the finest time, you know. 
 There's just one reason I don't go — 
 I can't accumulate the dough, 
 Gol dum it I 
 
 I've often planned a gay career 
 Of life at Narragansett Pier. 
 I've figured that most every year 
 
 Would bring it; 
 But somehow, and I don't know why. 
 When to the ocean I would fly, 
 My roll of long green turns out shy, 
 
 Gol ding it! 
 
 Last year I swore that I would go 
 To Coney for a day, you know, 
 And take a dollar bill or so 
 
 And burn it; 
 But when that long-expected day 
 Arrived I found I had to stay 
 And hustle for my weekly pay, 
 
 Gol durn it! 
 
 ROY K. MOULTON. 
 
 Two A. M. Meixims. 
 
 AN ICY reception befits a skate. 
 
 A pickled husband gets into family 
 jars. 
 
 People who live in stone houses should 
 throw down the glass. 
 
 Half a bun is better than low bred. 
 Little pitchers hold long beers. 
 The wages of gin is breath. 
 
 'TWAS ITS NATURE TO. 
 " Hard luck, old chap I But you were interested in that airship that the 
 government was going to buy — how about that !" 
 
 " Oh, that went up long ago." • 
 
 ¥T IS reported that last Sunday, at Swamp- 
 hurst, N. J., two mosquitoes became in- 
 toxicated with rage at a mosquito bar.
 
 HengLLFV 
 
 A TIME AND PLACE FOR EVERYTHING. 
 Passenger- 
 
 Captain- 
 
 " Do 5'ou seamen often see the sea-serpent ?" 
 Only when we're ashore and off duty, sir." 
 
 It Was the Other Nursery She Wanted. 
 
 AN ANXIOUS mother determines to ring up the day 
 nursery to ask for some advice as to her child. 
 Calling for the nursery, she is given Gottfried 
 Gluber, florist and tree-dealer. The following conversa- 
 tion ensues : 
 
 " I called for the nursery. Is this the nursery?" 
 
 " Yes, ma'am." 
 
 " I am so worried about my little Rose." 
 
 " Vat seems to be der madder?" 
 
 " Oh, not so very much, perhaps, but just a general 
 listlessness and lack of life." 
 
 " Ain'd growing righd, eh?" 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 " Veil, I vill dell you vat to do. You dake der scis- 
 sors und cut off aboud two inches from der limbs 
 und" ■ 
 
 " Wha-a-at?" 
 
 " I say, dake der scissors und cut off aboud two 
 inches from der limbs, und den turn der garten hose on 
 it for aboud four hours in der morning" 
 
 " Wha-a-at?" And the receiver vibrated at her tone. 
 
 " Turn der garten hose on for aboud four hours in der 
 morning, und den pile a lot of plack dirt all around und 
 shprinkle mit insegt powter all ofer der top " 
 
 "Sir-r-r!" 
 
 " Shprinkle mit insegt powter all ofer der top. You 
 know usually it is noddings but pugs dot" 
 
 " How dare you, sir? What do you mean by such 
 language to me?" 
 
 " Noddings but pugs usually causes der troubles, und 
 den you vant to vash der rose mit a liquid breparations 
 I haf for sale here " 
 
 " Who in the world ar, you, anyway?" 
 
 " Gottfried Giuber, der florist." 
 
 " 0-o-oh!" rather weakly. "Good-by. " 
 
 W. B. HANSON. 
 
 Precautious. 
 
 De Style — " Does he fear hydrophobia?" 
 Gunbusta—" Yo\x bet! Why, he won't even eat a 
 Coney Island frankfurter." 
 
 Man's Inhumanity. 
 
 (with the latest improvements.) 
 OIR JASPER, the Fire-eater, was still for a moment. 
 *^ "Yon prisoner," he meditated, "was once ac- 
 quainted with a friend of the cousin of mine enemy, 
 Now, let me devise something lively, even energetic, 
 for him." 
 
 Sir Jasper ran over the list of familiar atrocities on 
 his fingers, toes, and the legs of a passing centipede. 
 
 " Naw," he saith at length. Sir Jasper was sad and 
 kicked a passing cur into the next county. 
 
 " I' faith," he declared, " I know of several things 
 that should keep him interested for a spell, but I can't 
 seem to strike on that deliciousness of agony that I 
 seek." 
 
 Sir Jasper musingly sliced off the ear from a page 
 who had attracted bis attention. 
 
 " But hist, and hold, methinks I have it. Dog!" he 
 bawled at one of his loving servants, who drew near on 
 hands and knees. 
 
 Sir Jasper indicated the prisoner. 
 
 " Take that, and put him in a dress shirt that scratch- 
 eth under the collar, and send him to a dinner." 
 
 As Well As Could Be Expected. 
 
 Patient — " Do you think raw oysters are healthy?" 
 Physician — " I never knew any to complain." 
 
 Knickei — " It doesn't always pay to be polite." 
 Backer — " No; end-seat hogs are never sugar-cured." 
 
 HOW HE WORKED IT. 
 McCoffey — "Gee whiz, Bill I you look pretty pros- 
 perous to be caught eating in a lunch-wagon." 
 
 G" Sinkers — That's how I keep looking prosperous."
 
 A LITTLE BLACK KING VISITS NEW YORK TO STUDY CIVILIZED METHODS. 
 
 1. 2. 
 
 Upon landing the little blacic king became very much inter- Then a short trip through busy Broadway gave Mm a fail 
 
 ested in our many automobiles. One in particular strucit him idea of our excellent heating system, 
 quite forcibly. 
 
 At the Flatiron building he gained some experience in 
 aerial navigation. 
 
 Presently tlie little black king returned to his home and his 
 people, where a banquet was prepared in his honor by his own 
 hands. And after the sumptuous repast his dusky majesty 
 spoke at length of his experience in civilized New York and de- 
 clared that civilization was all right, provided it was stewed 
 down in a kettle and well seasoned.
 
 Clubton's Venture in Keyholes 
 
 By GEORGE FREDERICK WILSON 
 
 CLUBTON, fortunately for all concerned, was a 
 bachelor. 
 It required a half-hour of ceaseless effort to 
 fit the key. One minute it would be labori- 
 ously scratching its way to victory, only to be widely 
 swerved from its course the next by a convulsive hic- 
 cough. Clubton was beyond swearing. A mirthless 
 laugh, a minute's rest, and then another tedious and 
 fruitless effort. Round and round the key circled, and 
 then, with a quick jab as though he were spearing fish, 
 Clubton would bring it and his fingers against the hard 
 panel of the door. 
 
 When, finally, the keyhole was located and the key 
 safely inserted, Clubton grasped it convulsively with 
 both hands and brought his entire weight to bear upon 
 it. He turned the key slowly, fearing that his hands 
 would slip from it, and because of his full weight 
 
 against it, the doer suddenly swung inward and Clubto 
 sprawled upon the floor. 
 
 Dazed, he arose slowly, guiding his course by the 
 wall, and groped his way to the button and switched on 
 the lights. 
 
 He closed the door, and, getting a whiskbroom, 
 brushed carefully his clothing. He next divested him- 
 self of the major portion of his personal adornment and 
 threw all in a heap upon the floor. Then he crawled 
 into bed and was shortly fighting a nightmare. 
 
 He awoke late the following morning considerably 
 refreshed and feeling chipper. Clubton was an old- 
 timer, and " the-morning-after " headaches were a thing 
 of a dim past. The lights were still burning in a vain 
 attempt to outdo the sunshine. His clothing lay in a 
 heap where he had thrown it, save for one shoe which 
 still encompassed his right foot, the other posing grace 
 
 
 UNCLE TOM'S CABBIN'."
 
 CUT RATES 
 Mrs. Mulchacherty — " Phat's the price of this mate a pound?" 
 Butcher — " Dot iss dvendy-doo cents," 
 Mrs. Mukkacherty — " Thin lit me have three cints' worth, and don't be afther givin' me all bone 
 
 fully on the chiffonier where his hat should have been. 
 The hat itself was discovered in the region of the small 
 of his back, upon an investigation of a peculiar and un- 
 comfortable pain in that portion of his anatomy. 
 
 ASLEEP AT THE SWITCH. 
 
 Clubton's groan expressed only disgust. 
 
 "Confound it," he growled, flinging out his arms in 
 helpless rage. " Why can't I get into this room without 
 a lot of useless endeavor to locate the keyhole. It's 
 that confounded hot hallway that puts me in this condi- 
 tion. Don't I know?" he snarled, as though some one 
 had disputed the statement. "I'm never in a maudlin 
 condition when I'm in the street and can breathe the 
 fresh air." 
 
 Grumblingly he removed the balance of his clothing 
 and went into the bathroom. 
 
 There, during his ablutions, he raged inwardly over 
 his inability to locate the keyhole on his first effort. 
 The helpless, useless rage gradually expanded into an 
 idea, and the idea grew amazingly as he fed into it con- 
 centrated thought. 
 
 He was smiling when the bath was completed — and 
 smiled all the way down to his office, where the sign on 
 the glass of the door proclaimed to all that he was an 
 electrical engineer. 
 
 Instructing his clerk against interrupting him, he 
 went into his private office and locked the door. It was 
 Saturday, and few came to be turned away. 
 
 During all of an hour Clubton pored over the contents 
 of an electrical library, then he abruptly left the office, 
 to return a half-hour later with a brown paper parcel. 
 In this parcel were a large lock, key, and door bracket, 
 and over these he spent an hour of labor, at last breath- 
 ing a contented, soul-satisfying sigh. 
 
 He dined at the club and afterward strolled about.
 
 awaiting a full house. At 
 nine the rooms were well 
 filled with members and their 
 friends, and Clubton begged 
 that all assemble in the 
 smokeroom. 
 
 His request was hilarious- 
 ly responded to, and when all 
 nad quieted down, Clubton 
 mounted a chair. 
 
 "Gentlemen," he began, 
 -'this is the night of your 
 emancipation. All of you — ■ 
 no, I refuse to make excep- 
 tions — have upon divers oc- 
 casions drunk deep of the 
 flowing bowl. Aye, so deep 
 that when you reached home 
 you found it serious and diffi- 
 cult labor to locate the key- 
 hole. Gentlemen, "he added, 
 bringing into view a lock and 
 key, " I wish to introduce to 
 you to-night, Clubton's Mag- 
 netized Keyhole, the Abe Lin- 
 coln which is to give you 
 freedom. Note the absence 
 
 of all mechanical features. It is just a plain lock and 
 key doctored with electrical juice. The secret of its 
 marvelous power can be yours alone, as you need but 
 
 A "RAH-RAH AVIS, 
 
 have your personal nightkey 
 treated. I magnetize the 
 lock and key. Note the re- 
 sult." 
 
 He extended hi.'i arms un- 
 til a distance of about two 
 feet intervened between the 
 lock and key. Then he gradu- 
 ally diminished the distance, 
 and, when it was within a 
 foot of the lock, the key and 
 Clubton's arm were jerked 
 swiftly to the lock, the key 
 inserting itself speedily and 
 properly. 
 
 " Hold tight to the key, 
 gentlemen, and it will g^ide 
 you. No more suspicious 
 wives. All is well with you. 
 Before you close the door, 
 withdraw the key, as the cir- 
 cuit between the bolt of the 
 lock and the bracket is then 
 broken. Come up, boys, and 
 place your order. Prices are 
 right." 
 
 It is reported upon au- 
 thority of the club steward that seven men were pain- 
 fully injured in the rush which ensued to place an order 
 with Clubton. 
 
 
 OVERWHELMED. 
 " You look sore about something, Hank." 
 
 "Sore is no fit term for it, Bill. Just imagine the humiliation of one seeing part of himself decorating the hat of a 
 molasses-colored cooness !' '
 
 'f>')^
 
 An Enterorising 
 Agent. 
 
 "N 
 
 OW, SIR. "said the 
 agent, " I am sure 
 I have got what 
 you want. Now here is a 
 new patent paper cutter, sir, 
 that I am selling for twen- 
 ty-five cents. It is the best 
 in the market, never tears 
 the pages of an uncut 
 book " • 
 
 " Very nice, indeed," in- 
 terrupted his victim; "but 
 I have no uncut books, and 
 so " 
 
 "I suspected that, sir," 
 returned the agent. "That's 
 why I have brought along 
 this beautiful, uncut copy 
 of Fox's ' Book of Martyrs.' 
 Three hundred pages of ele- 
 vating reading, embellished 
 with beautiful pictures. 
 Just the thing for a center- 
 table in this superb bind- 
 ing" 
 
 " I haven't got a center- 
 table, "said the victim; " so 
 you see " 
 
 " Fine!" said the agent. 
 " Let me show you the catalogue of our company's fur- 
 niture. It is all of the very best make, and a center- 
 table like that in the picture on page twenty-two will 
 prove an ornament in your parlor " 
 
 MUST HAVE STOLEN IT. 
 Judge — " What's the charge against the prisoner ?" 
 Officer — " Carrying a concealed weapon — I found this 
 hook on his person." 
 
 " But I haven't any par- 
 lor — I have no house, my 
 frie".id. Consequently" 
 
 "Glorious!" cried the 
 agent. " I represent the 
 Own Your Own Home Com- 
 pany of" 
 
 "Oh, thunder!" said the 
 victim. "Here's your 
 quarter. I'll take a paper 
 cutter." 
 
 Invincible. 
 
 itVTOU Yankees are eter- 
 nally bragging about 
 your possessions," said the 
 British tourist, as the trav- 
 elers visited Vesuvius; " but 
 tell me, my friend, where 
 in all the splendors of your 
 country have you anything 
 to equal this volcano?" 
 
 " Out in Lincoln, Neb.," 
 said the American. 
 
 " Never heard of it," 
 said the Englishman con- 
 temptuously. "What do 
 you call it?" 
 
 " William J en ninga 
 Bryan," said the American. 
 
 Brevity. 
 
 A TRAVELING salesman was thunderstruck upon be- 
 ing presented with a telegram which ran: 
 " Twins this morning — more later. Sadie." 
 
 UP IN MILLINERY. 
 Calf (startled by Wild-West runaway,—" Oh, mal pipe the cow with the 'Merry Wuio'w' homt I "
 
 ij ^\^ (/
 
 A Blossom Fancy. 
 
 BY R. K. MUNKITTRICK. 
 
 OH, FILMY, silken blossom. 
 Of finest wind-spun gold. 
 You fill my dream with fancies 
 That can't be sung or told. 
 
 You are a meadow fairy, 
 Disporting in the breeze. 
 
 And as I watch your dainty 
 And frail embroideries, 
 
 I touch my harp in raptu. ^ 
 And sing in accents gay, 
 " This blossom will be sweeter 
 When it has passed away; 
 
 " Because when it, a blossom. 
 No longer nods and sighs, 
 'Twill be the gorgeous pumpkin 
 That makes the pie of pies." 
 
 Equal to the Occasion. 
 
 Tourist — " My physician advises me 
 to locate where I may have the benefit of 
 the south wind. Does it blow here?" 
 
 Landlord — "My! but you're for- 
 tunate in coming to just the right place ! 
 Why, the south wind always blows here." 
 
 Tourist — "Always? Why, it seems 
 to be blowing from the north now." 
 
 Landlord — "Oh, it may be coming 
 from that direction, but it's the south 
 wind. It's just coming back, you know." 
 
 HIS GEOGRAPHY AT FAULT. 
 Visitor — " Do you live here, little girl ?"' 
 
 She — "No ; this is my aunty's house — I am from rrovidence." 
 Visitor — " Oh, are you f" 
 i/-^— "Oh, no, R. I." 
 
 Her Ba^. 
 
 BY LURANA VV. SHELDON. 
 
 • 'l^WAS just a tiny jeweled thing 
 
 * That dangled on a chain ; 
 A gewgaw to which women cling 
 
 In sunshine and in rain. 
 Tie looked upon it as a toy, 
 
 A plaything for the hand — 
 A bauble easy to destroy. 
 
 It was so frailly planned. 
 
 Alas ! she dropped the thing one day 
 
 Upon the windy street, 
 And he was paralyzed, they say. 
 
 At what fell at his feet. 
 The clasp had opened ; on his knees 
 
 He clutched a gross or more 
 Of everything one ever sees 
 
 Within a dry-goods store. 
 
 A Sli£(ht Misunderstanding. 
 
 it ¥^0 YOU take any periodicals?" 
 asked the new clergyman on his 
 first round of parish visits. 
 
 " Well, I don't," replied the woman; 
 " but my husband takes 'em frequent. I 
 do wish you'd try to get him to sign the 
 pledge." 
 
 NO DOUBT ABOUT IT. 
 " Is not your brother a jolly fellow ? So full of spirits I He kissed 
 me a moment ago under water." 
 "He inuii be full of spirits I" 
 
 Philos (sagely shaking his head) — 
 " There is nothing new under the sun. " 
 
 Justwed (with timid reluctance) — 
 " Have you seen my baby?"
 
 The Howl of the Hack. 
 
 BY HAMILTON POPE GALT. 
 
 THE EDITOR has scissors long, 
 A glue pot, large and full of strong 
 Adhesive glue. 
 Placed handy, too. 
 Of what he prints he clippeth half; 
 The rest is written by the staff. 
 
 The editor will seldom fail 
 Rejection slips to send by mail; 
 
 And often ships 
 
 Acceptance slips 
 By freight; while, painfully and slow. 
 His checks around Cape Horn must go. 
 
 ROGERS 
 
 THE MYSTERY OF A COW'S TAIL. 
 One little goose (to the other) — Naow, haow do you suppose 
 thet dumed caow crawled through thet thar knot-hole.'" 
 
 ____tieMGLe(% 
 
 WHERE HE AIMED. 
 
 City sportsman — " That may be some other hunter I am 
 aiming at, and not a deer at all. It is very dangerous for him to 
 move so quietly." 
 
 Indian guide — "Huh! Him safest of all. " 
 
 A Cruel Inquiry, 
 
 (< I'M SUAH," said Chollie Softleigh with a drawling 
 * lisp, " that I don't know what I shall do when I 
 
 get out of college. Mothah wants me to be a minithtah, 
 
 but I have a leaning toward litratchah." 
 
 "Did you ever think of becoming an actress?" she 
 
 asked cruelly. 
 
 Horse-power. 
 
 << liIOW MANY horse-power is your machine?" 
 
 " It's too heavy for one horse, so I generally 
 use two." 
 
 NO DANGER. 
 'Ah know fo' positive fac' dey is paris green on dat melon. 
 ' We don't eat de green ; we eat de red. ' ' 
 
 OT'rO X..^i4<,~.
 
 When the Scorcher Died 
 
 By LOWELL OTUS REESE 
 
 THE SCORCHER gave a terrifying " Honk, 
 honk!" and prepared to drive through the Jas- 
 per Gates; but just then the barrier fell, and 
 he barely saved himself from smashing into it 
 by throwing on the safety clutch. 
 
 " Here !" he demanded. " What's this?" 
 " You can't take that thing in here," said St. Peter 
 firmly. 
 
 ADVANTAGES OF A MODERN CAMPING OUTFIT. 
 
 2. he remembers his pneumatic mattress and the oil stove 
 
 1. Stranded on an island in the wilderness, his boat adrift 
 
 "I'd like to 
 know why !" 
 fumed the scorch- 
 er. " Down on 
 earth I've been 
 used to getting 
 everything 1 
 want. I won't 
 stand for it " 
 
 "There's noth- 
 ing doing, bo!" 
 said St. Peter. 
 " We're a peace- 
 ful set of citi- 
 zens up here, and 
 there's an anti- 
 automobile ordinance tacked on to our 
 city charter. If you come in here you 
 must leave that snort-wagon outside." 
 
 The scorcher was true to his creed. 
 " If I can't have my machine in Heav- 
 en," he said indignantly, " I won't go 
 in there!" 
 
 "Very well," said St. Peter indif- 
 ferently. "Then there's only one 
 thing for you to do — take your ma- 
 chine and go to Hell." 
 
 He gave the scorcher a road map, 
 showing the way down. Thanking him 
 with the courtesy which characterizes 
 automobilists in general, the scorcher 
 turned down the Broad Way. 
 
 "At least," he thought, "they 
 ought to have a corking cinder path 
 down there." And at the thought he 
 
 threw over the High and was soon lost in a cloud of star- 
 dust. 
 
 Charon scratched his head and looked doubtful as the 
 
 scorcher whizzed to a standstill upon the Ferry. But 
 
 the silent old ferryman said nothing and rowed on across. 
 
 "Where's the Speedway?" demanded the scorcher, 
 
 as they approached the landing. 
 
 Charon stroked his beard and spat into the water. 
 
 "Ask the Boss," he said, pointing 
 toward the red-hot gates. 
 
 The scorcher knocked. The Devil 
 appeared, peeped through the wicket, 
 and gave a yell of terror. 
 
 "Throw that machine into the 
 Styx!" he said. "You can't bring 
 it in here !" 
 
 The poor scorcher looked utterly 
 dejected. " And I thought it would 
 make such a hit in this place !" he said. 
 " You made hits enough on earth!" 
 said the Devil cuttingly. " Of course 
 I know it would be a star addition to 
 my list of tor- 
 tures, but even 
 the Devil has a 
 little compas- 
 sion. Honestly, I 
 wouldn't have the 
 heart to spring 
 that thing on my 
 subjects. Besides, 
 Hell is getting an 
 awful reputation 
 as a smelly place, 
 and I've simply 
 got to draw the 
 line somewhere. 
 
 and soon he is on his way toward home and mother.
 
 BOYHOOD DAYS 
 
 ANIMAL LAND. 
 
 The Lady's Opinion. 
 A CERTAIN member of Con- 
 
 Jimmy Mon, 
 ejther." 
 
 " Aw, come on in ! It's only so deep, and perfectly safe. I can't swim, 
 
 Throw that thing into the Styx or else clear out!" and 
 the Devil banged the wicket shut. The scorcher turned 
 his beloved Juggernaut around. 
 
 "Ferry me back!" he said to Charon. "I'll spend 
 the rest of eternity in Yuma. I know it's worse than 
 Hell, but I'd rather be there with my machine than in 
 Heaven or Hades without it." 
 
 And all Hell breathed a sigh of relief when he went. 
 
 A Proposal and Acceptance. 
 
 A YOUNG colored man asked permission of his em- 
 ployer to use the telephone, as he wished to speak 
 to a colored girl employed at another residence. Upon 
 receiving consent, he explained, " You see, it's dis way. 
 I loves dat gal an' wants to 
 ask her to marry me, but, 
 'fore de Lord! I ain't got de 
 grit to ask her ' word out of 
 mouth'; an' so I wants to 
 use de 'phone. I'll jest call 
 her up. 
 
 "Hello! Is dat Dinah?" 
 
 "No. Will call her." 
 
 "Hello! Dat you, Dinah?" 
 
 " Ye-as." 
 
 "Dinah, you knows I 
 thinks a heep of you." 
 
 "Ye-as." 
 
 " An' I bin tryin' to make 
 you think a heep of me." 
 
 "Ye-as." 
 
 " I more den thinks a heep 
 of you. I loves you, Dinah." 
 
 "Ye-as." 
 
 "Now, Dinah — 1 — er — 
 wants to ask you if you will 
 marry me?" 
 
 "Ye-as, indeedy! Who is 
 dis what's talkin' to me?" 
 
 gress from New England 
 went to a Southern State some 
 years ago to make a few cam- 
 paign speeches. It was his first 
 experience in the South, and he 
 had considerable to learn. One 
 day he stopped at a farm-house 
 for dinner. 
 
 " I'm sorry, ma'am," he said 
 to the lady presiding, " but J 
 don't eat hot bread." 
 
 " Why don't you?" she asked, 
 being quite as inexperienced in 
 Northern customs as the con- 
 gressman was in Southern. 
 
 " Because it is indigestible 
 and unhealthy." 
 
 " What kind do you eat?" 
 " Cold bread, always." 
 She looked him over careful- 
 ly, sizing up his [scrawny form 
 from every point of view, and after the survey she re- 
 marked with a sniff, 
 
 " Well, it seems to me that it's about time you had k 
 change of diet." 
 
 Diplomacy. 
 
 ««|'M SURPRISED at you." 
 
 * "What's the matter now?" 
 
 " Why, your wife tells me you've invited the grocer 
 and butcher to your party to-night!" 
 
 "Well, what of it?" 
 
 " Think of what you owe society." 
 
 " Yes ; but think what I owe my grocer and butchej !" 
 
 Jimmy Monk (as Willie Hippo jumps 
 blub t Help I it's over my head !'' 
 
 into pool) — " Help ! Gurgle, splosh I Glub,
 
 A Musical Education in a Nutshell 
 
 By JOHN KENDRICK BANGS 
 
 THERE was, some years ago, a writer upon musical 
 topics in a German periodical who gave a cleverly 
 comprehensive method by which the musically un- 
 educated should be able to detect whether or not the com- 
 position to which they were listening should rank as a 
 masterpiece. " If the music goes 1-2-3-hop-hop-hop, or 
 1-2-3-boom-boom-boom," said he, " you may depend upon 
 it that you are listening to unmitigated rubbish. But 
 when you hear music that sounds as if a number of well- 
 arranged notes 
 were stuck into a 
 barrel and energet- 
 ically stirred about 
 like a sort of har- 
 monious oat meal 
 porridge, then you 
 may assume that it 
 is a fugue, and at 
 once compose your 
 features into an 
 expression of pro- 
 found satisfaction. 
 If, later on, you 
 fancy that the 
 notes are dropped 
 on the floor, and 
 from time to time 
 asserting them- 
 selves again in a 
 quiet, dreamy sort 
 of way, then the 
 piece is probably a 
 nocturne; and noc- 
 turnes, as you are 
 
 HIS WEDD 
 
 " Never will I marry — I am wed- 
 ded to my art. Art is my wife," he 
 told his friends. 
 
 probably aware, are very high-class music indeed. 
 When the notes seem to arrive in truck-loads, and each 
 truck contains a different sort from the one that has 
 preceded it, and when the series of vans appears to take 
 an unreasonable length of time to pass a ^iven point, 
 then the masterpiece is doubtless a symphony, and the 
 symphony is the greatest musical creation yet produced 
 by the masters of music. Finally, when it seems as if 
 the notes had been tumbled down helter-skelter, then 
 
 vigorously shoveled 
 up into a heap, and 
 blown into the air 
 with a dynamite 
 cartridge, that is a 
 rhapsody; and the 
 rhapsody is, on the 
 whole, the most 
 popular variety of 
 good music ex- 
 tant." The writer 
 of the above doubt- 
 less lived too soon 
 to continue and add 
 to his formulae the 
 further assertion 
 that if the notes 
 bring to you that 
 feeling of lassitude 
 which conjures up 
 visions of cold 
 broiled lobsters and 
 the odor of gasoline 
 and talcum powder 
 in equal propor- 
 
 ED WIFE. 
 
 And his art mastered him. 
 
 -~BOB floo»/>^S 
 
 STRANGE SIGHTS OF THE CITY. 
 Farmer bird—"' Gosh all hemlock I thet's the spryest squirrel I e'-er saw."
 
 IT WAS A 1905 MODEL. 
 Dri'ver^ " What's the matter ?" . ,, 
 
 Constable — " You are under arrest for cruelty to automobiles. You have no right to overload a poor old machine like that. 
 
 tiona, you will instantly recognize it aa 
 the composition of that famous and pop- 
 ular composer, Herr Broadway, of New 
 York. 
 
 The Snake {^^^) Curve BaJl. 
 
 BY EDWIN L. SABIN. 
 
 IN THE golden days of summer, 
 When with Skinny, Red, and Fat 
 On the pasture-lot of Homeville 
 You indulged in two old-cat, 
 You remember — aye — the presence 
 Of that wizard 'mongst you all. 
 Who possessed the magic secret 
 
 Of the snake (w^w) curve ball ! 
 
 'Tis the mastery of all things 
 
 Given boyhood, nothing less. 
 That enables him to sock 'em 
 
 Wriggling like the letter S; 
 While the eager batter flushes, 
 
 'Wildered by the mocking call, 
 " Aw, I fooled you! Aw, I fooled you! 
 
 That's a snake (-^^w) curve ball!" 
 
 See those fearsome, long contortions ! 
 
 Hear the quick, triumphant shout. 
 Which apprises all newcomers, 
 
 " I can throw an in-an'-out!" 
 Tens of thousands, why your homage? 
 
 Clarkson or Waddell are small 
 When compared to freckled urchin 
 
 With his snake (w^w) curve ball! 
 
 Fo?(, no doubt, were that brave pitcher — 
 
 (" Watch me make it do it!" " Gee!") 
 Spiting scoffers, baffling science. 
 
 (" Can, too— can't I, Fat? Now, see!") 
 "Papa," "captain," "judge," " profess- 
 YOU-RE NEXT. or"— 
 
 Kid-" Say, mister, ain't it about time yer t'rowed away dat butt ?" Of* may honor's mantle fall, 
 
 Leisure Lanvson—'' Sorry, me boy— very, very sorry, I assure vou ; but But there s none like to the mantle 
 I just picked it up myself, don't-chew-know ?" Of the snake (w^>^) curve ball ! 
 
 15
 
 IT ALL DEPENDS. 
 
 Adrian Abiynlhcface — " Maud, I want you to put this un- 
 der your pillow to-night and dream of me. Will you .'" 
 
 Maud — " Well, that depends upon what I eat before going 
 to bed." 
 
 Come Home, Father. 
 
 BY M. WORTH COLWELL. 
 
 (( IpATHER, dear father, come home with me now, 
 
 * The clock on the dashboard strikes one ! 
 Don't fuss with the car any longer, pupah, 
 
 You can't get the old tub to run ! 
 The cylinder's cracked and the timer won't work. 
 
 And mother's been waiting since tea, 
 So tether the car to a post, father dear, 
 
 And come home on the trolley with me! 
 Come home, come home " — etc. 
 
 " Father, dear father, come home with me now. 
 
 The speed-meter clock's striking two! 
 The night has grown colder, the rear tire's flat, 
 
 And mamma may fret about you. 
 The cam-shaft is twisted, the pump's out of gear; 
 
 Perhaps before morning shall dawn, 
 Ma may grow real angry and want a divorce — 
 
 Come quickly, or she may be gone! 
 Come home, come home " — etc. 
 
 " Father, dear father, fly home with me now, 
 
 The clock's striking three — it's struck out! 
 Don't fool any more with magneto and coil; 
 
 The wires have grounded, no doubt!" 
 The child's plea was answered — the answer was short. 
 
 Which the night winds repeat as they roam; 
 The gas-tank exploded — some noise and some smoke. 
 
 And father and daughter blew home ! 
 " We're home, we're home !" — etc. 
 
 Down to Brass Tacks. 
 
 (( *pVER stopped to think where you will go this 
 
 "^ summer?" asks the friend. 
 
 "Well," answers the other, "we think we will go 
 to southern Europe for a while, then run over into 
 Switzerland and Germany, then go on through Russia 
 and Siberia, and come back by way of Japan, the Philip- 
 pines, and Hawaii." 
 
 " My! That's a splendid tour!" 
 
 "Yes, we think we'll take it; but we know blamed 
 well we'll go to Atlantic City maybe twice during 
 the summer. " 
 
 THEY DISAGREE ON DETAILS 
 " I am afraid of Mr. " Littleman is afraid of me," 
 Big," says Mr. Little- says Big, "because he does know 
 man, "because I don't what I'll do." 
 know what he'll do." 
 
 NEEDED RENOVATION. 
 
 Ne--w pastor — " Perhaps you don't know, my boy, that I ant 
 your new pastor .'" 
 
 Kid — " Maybe I don't, but I tell you now, that old meetin' 
 house of ours certainly needed pastorizin'. "
 
 ->!eN61£K, 
 
 HE SPOKE HASTILY. 
 
 " Allow me to take you down to eat, Mrs. Scrambledegg- 
 face." 
 
 " Oh, thank you ! It's so good of " 
 
 " Not at all. Your husband has made lots of little sacri- 
 fice's for me." 
 
 The Threat. 
 
 'l^HE Bingses, mother and daughter, had long out- 
 stayed their visit at their country friend's house. 
 Moreover, they evinced no sign of going away, nor did 
 the mother seem to be in any way affected by the strong 
 hints to go which the overtaxed hostess threw out from 
 time to time. Finally, forbearance exhausted, the en- 
 tertainer decided to reach the mother through her daugh- 
 ter. So one day, calling the little visitor to her, she 
 said, " Maimie, when do you expect to go home?" 
 
 " Oh, I'm sure I don't know," was the careless reply. 
 " We've several other places to stop at yet." 
 
 " Well, when do you go on to the next place?" 
 " Can't even tell that. Mamma says it's immaterial to 
 her just when she'll leave here." 
 
 "But, my dear child," exclaimed the exasperated 
 hostess, "doesn't your mother realize how high living 
 is these days?" ■ 
 
 "Oh, yes; she knows how high it is. That's why we 
 left the city." 
 
 "Well, Maimie, I cannot afford to entertain visitors 
 any longer, and I wish you'd tell your mother that at 
 once!" 
 
 "Is that an insult?" rejoined the child, turning 
 haughtily to the speaker. 
 
 " Why do you ask that, child?" 
 
 " Because when we're insulted we go on to the next 
 place !" 
 
 Judgment. 
 
 BY CARLYLE SMITH. 
 
 NO CRITIC of my neighbor let me be. 
 No flaws in him, I pray thee, let me find; 
 Or if, perchance, some blemish there I see. 
 To it and him may I be ever kind. 
 
 But of myself, as Father Time rolls by, 
 Let me be critical of my own ways, 
 
 And so reform my erring self that I 
 Won't care a rap what anybody says. 
 
 The Poet Sings. 
 
 BY B. J. DASKAM. 
 
 ONE DIFFERENCE only, Chloe proud, 
 Between your love and mine — 
 While you've forgotten all you vowed, 
 I get six cents a line. 
 
 And, Daphne, though your melting glance 
 
 Was bought with violets. 
 Don't think that I'd neglect a chance 
 
 For lightsome triolets. 
 
 Oh, Phyllis, oft you've strained my purse 
 
 On loving pleasure bent; 
 But, now we're through, it might be worse — 
 
 You've helped to pay the rent. 
 
 l'envoi. 
 Ye poets, when your lady's kiss 
 
 Grows cold, pray don't repine, 
 But scribble off some stuff like this 
 
 And get six cents a line. 
 
 A Work of Supererogation. 
 
 ITENRY dislikes being bathed and argues with his 
 mother over every square inch of his four-year-old 
 anatomy. 
 
 One night, when his patience was especially tried by 
 what he considered wholly unnecessary work, he ex- 
 claimed, 
 
 " Oh, mamma, couldn't you skip my stomach? No- 
 body ever sees my stomach !" 
 
 Additional Comforts. 
 
 <« ¥ SEE your rates here are double on rainy days," 
 * said the drummer. " What is the reason for 
 that?" 
 
 " Sir," replied Landlord Sparerib, " a careful exam- 
 ination of this hostelry will convince you that all our 
 rooms are furnished with baths at that time." 
 
 <^ 
 
 A c»ArK MAM with ^, CoM 
 
 BLUFF' AiV WILL "CAuf Se 
 
 
 "THE VOICE OF THE BLACK HAND."
 
 STRIKING THE HOT IRON. 
 
 I^HE FOLLOWING is the conversation carried on 
 * between a blacksmith and his helper; both, as it 
 happened, stuttered. 
 
 Blacksmith's helper — " Sh-sh-shall I h-h-hit n-n-n- 
 
 now?" 
 
 Blacksmith (who is holding a piece of heated iron on 
 the anvil for the helper to hit)—" Y-y-y-yes, h-hit it 
 
 n-n-now." 
 
 Blacksmith's /ie/per—" Sh-sh-shall I h-h-hit it h-h- 
 
 har-hard?" 
 
 Blacksmith— "Y-y -yes; h-h-h-hit it h-hard." 
 Blacksmith's helper—" Sh-sh-shaW I-I h-h-hit it 
 
 h-hard n-now?" 
 
 Blacksmith—" N-n-no; i-it's c-c-cold n-novv." 
 
 Stanley E. Williams, Seattle, Wash. 
 
 CERTAIN. 
 
 (( UOW TIRESOME you are," said the wife of his 
 
 ^^ bosom. " I can never get a straightforward 
 answer. Can't you be certain about anything?" 
 
 " Wise men hesitate," he replied loftily; " only fools 
 are certain." 
 
 " Are you sure of that?" 
 
 " I'm quite certain of it." 
 
 " Oh!" was all she said. 
 
 Seale B. Johnson, Jackson, Tenn. 
 
 AN EMBARRASSING POSITION. 
 
 A PRETTY young kindergarten teacher got on a 
 crowded car and, seating herself, nodded and 
 smiled at a handsome gentleman opposite her, and upon 
 discovering the fact that she had mistaken him for an- 
 other, said in a sweet voice, 
 
 H£NG)e-i\- 
 
 DISAPPOINTED. 
 
 She — " I was crazy when I married you." 
 
 fje — " You were— but we all entertained hopes of your recovery." 
 
 A JOLT FOR CUPID. 
 "Have you heard the news, Charlie? It's 
 perfectly dreadful !'' 
 
 " Why no, sweetheart. What is it.?" 
 " Some horrid person is going to build an 
 apartment house between us. Boo-hoo !" 
 
 "Oh, I beg your pardon. I thought you 
 were the father of two of my children." 
 The horrid crowd giggled. 
 She got off at the next corner. 
 
 Mrs. James W. Gault, Eaton, Col. 
 
 WHAT HE WAS WAITING FOR. 
 
 A MAN who was so full that he couldn't 
 *■ even stand on his feet was standing 
 about midnight clutching a lamp-post, when 
 a policeman accosted him, " Here, my man, 
 why don't you sober up and go home?" 
 
 " In fact," answered the drunk, " that's 
 just what I am after doing. You see, the 
 whole street is turning round and round this 
 lamp-post, and, when my own house reaches 
 here, I will just step in the doorway." 
 
 Ben J. Strauch, Memphis, Tenn.
 
 CIRCUMSTANCES ALTER CASES. 
 Mother — "Hear him! He says ' mamma.' " Motlici — "He wants you! There, there! he says he 
 
 Father — " Oh, no ! He says he wants to come wants papa. '' 
 to papa." Father — " Confound it ! can't you hear him saying he 
 
 wants mamma." 
 
 Gray's Elegy. 
 
 " Full many a gem of purest ray serene." 
 BV WILLIS LEONARD CLANAMAX. 
 
 FULL many a gem of purest ray Full many a brave Demosthenes, 
 la born to blush unseen; Full many a Cromwell bold. 
 
 Full many a flower that smiles to-day. Full many a Milton — more the cheeas 
 
 Full many a leaf that's green, Than e'er was John of old — 
 
 Will never make the dreamer pause. Are sitting round the country store. 
 
 Nor his fond gaze entrance, A-wearing out their pants. 
 
 Because — why, can't you see? — because Because — as hinted heretofore — 
 
 It never had no chance. They never had no chance. 
 
 W£w*lfV 
 
 DID SHE MEAN INTO A F.AMILYTREE? 
 Count — " Come with me to my ancestral home !" 
 Clara — " Impossible, count I I cannot climb t"
 
 Reflections of Uncle Ezrs^ 
 
 By ROY K. MOULTON. 
 
 CERTAINLY it is gettin' so nowadays you can't tell 
 from a feller's clothes and hair-cut whether he 
 is a rube or a genius. 
 
 Many women are not as bad as they are painted. 
 
 When I see a widder wearin' crape twenty-five or 
 thutty years, I always think that her husband must have 
 died before she got very well acquainted with him. 
 
 If Roosevelt gets too strong with his nature-fakin' 
 charges, he will git to be disliked in my town for bein' 
 too pussonal. Those of us who ain't got false teeth 
 have got glass eyes, cork legs, artificial hair, cold-cream 
 complexions, or dyed whiskers. 
 
 Hod Peters, of our town, is so stingy he makes his 
 wife write all her letters in shorthand, so as to save ink. 
 
 It may be all right to belong to the Four Hundred, 
 but, by gravy! I'd hate to have any of the Four Hundred 
 belong to me. 
 
 They say accidents will happen in the best of fami- 
 lies, and, accordin' to reports from Pittsburgh, most of 
 them do. 
 
 I never see a married woman who didn't cry at a 
 
 weddin' and wish the couple much joy while she was 
 wipin' her nose. 
 
 Don't make fun of an old maid. A woman who is an 
 old maid at thutty may be a dashing young widder at 
 thutty-five with a life-insurance roll. 
 
 Job may have had boils, but, by jing! he never 
 grabbed his wife's hot curlin'-iron in a dark bedroom 
 and put it in his mouth by mistake for a cigar. 
 
 The government laws on substitution may be pretty 
 strict, but they can't prevent us from usin' a good old 
 buckwheat pancake for a porous plaster. 
 
 Anybody can write for a magazine, but it won't be 
 sent unless the subscription is paid in advance. 
 
 Education is a great thing. A school teacher who is 
 extra efficient can get thutty-five dollars a month. A 
 plumber gets five dollars a day. 
 
 Hi Huggins says he can't afford an automobile to 
 take his gal out ridin' in, but as long as the old gray 
 mare lives he has got a good spark-plug, anyhow. 
 
 I know a feller who is usin' four hoop snakes for rub- 
 ber tires on his buggy, and I ain't any nature faker either. 
 
 
 . ;v-f^' o \.i^^^/fMtf^ 
 
 WATCHING IT WARILY. 
 Boneiy Bates — " Well, how's things ?" 
 Languid Leary — " Pretty good ; I got me eye on a job.' ' 
 Ronesy Bates — " Aw ! wot's eatin' youse ?" 
 languid Leary — " Nuttin'; youse'd keep yer eye on a bull if youse wuz in a field with one, wouldn't yer?"
 
 Notes from the Basswood Bugle 
 
 By ROY K. MOULTON 
 
 HANK TUMMS has broke the record. Now he 
 can't have any more music on his phonograph. 
 Miss Pansy Tibbits, who has been away to 
 cookin' school, made a fine hickory-nut cake 
 last week. Old Bill Tibbits ate seven pieces and has 
 been laid up with the indyspepsia. Come to find out, 
 Pansy forgot to crack the hickory nuts before puttin' 
 them in the cake. 
 
 The county-fair folks are advertisin' a race for green 
 trotters. Who ever see a green horse? Nobody but 
 some nature faker, perhaps. 
 
 The only trouble with huckleberry pie is that it gits 
 all over a feller's ears too much. 
 
 Old Cap Whipple has only got one tooth, and when he 
 gits through eatin' an ear of green corn it looks like a 
 corkscrew. The cob, not the tooth. 
 
 There is two grades of society in this country, pianola 
 and phonograph. 
 
 It is more pleasanter to have a photograph taken 
 
 TWO VERSIONS. 
 
 Patty (recently affianced) — " Philip says he will love me 
 when I'm old." 
 
 Brother — "When you mould I Don't believe him. Sis. 
 Men like girla when they are young and fresh." 
 
 than to have a tooth pulled, but it seldom appears so on 
 the photograph. 
 
 The only time Cal Stebbins's face gits thoroughly 
 washed is when he eats a piece of watermelon. 
 
 Hotel soap always seems like a piece broke off from 
 a soapstun griddle or footwarmer, judgin' by the ab- 
 sence of suds it makes. 
 
 The Bugle office has had a half-column of obituary and 
 two columns of Ladies' Aid Society resolutions set up 
 for Grandma Jenks for nine years, but as Doc Hanks 
 says she is now out of danger we will sell the same 
 mighty cheap to some other person, who is expectin' to 
 die, by the name of Jenks. 
 
 This was quite a busy week in our town. A medicine 
 lecturer on the street Monday evenin', a dog fight Wed- 
 nesday afternoon, an organ grinder Thursday mornin', 
 and the usual mid-week prayer meetin' Thursday evenin'. 
 
 Nothin' stands out more prominenter than a wart on 
 a feller's nose unless it is a foreign hotel label on a new 
 dollar-ninety-eight suit case. 
 
 Miss Euphemia Mudge, our poetess of passion, has 
 resigned as poet-laureate for the tombstun works and 
 expects to accept a lucrative position on some New York 
 magazine soon, if she can get it, which is rather skep- 
 tical at this writin'. 
 
 Hank Tumms is such a strong union man that he 
 won't patronize any railrud that don't run into a union 
 depot. 
 
 Last time Grandma Perkins went to New York she 
 says to the conductor, says she, " Does this train stop 
 at New York?" The conductor says, says he, " By 
 ginger, I hope so, because if it don't there will be about 
 the goldingest smash-up that you most ever see!" 
 
 Elmer Spink says them New York fellers that come 
 out here summer resortin' ain't so blame stylish after 
 all. He ain't seen one of them yet with a cellold collar 
 on, and the fellers around here have been wearin' them 
 for a year or two. Elmer has had his pretty near three 
 years and it is just as good as new, if not better, as it 
 now fits his throat better than former. 
 
 Them foreign noblemen must be a tough lot. We see 
 that an indictment has been issued down to New York 
 that has got twenty counts in it. 
 
 The Basswood Corners Silver Cornet; Band gave a con- 
 cert on Main Street last Thursday evenin' free gratis for 
 nothin', but nobody heard it, as everybody was down to 
 the railrud depot to see the eight-fifteen come in, and 
 she was an hour late. 
 
 Hod Peters fell down-stairs last Wednesday and broke 
 three ribs and seven commandments. 
 
 A drummer from New York was in our midst the 
 other day, sellin' goods. We haven't heard whether he 
 is a basa or snare drummer. Miss Amy Stubbs, our mil- 
 liner, says every drummer is a delusion and a snare. 
 
 Grandpa Bibbins went to church in the rain last Sun- 
 day, and is now at home, sufferin' from inflammatory 
 Eeligion.
 
 HIS DESERTS. 
 Pausing at Alcove G, in tiie lower corridor of 
 
 Hades, we observed a young man dancing a jig on 
 
 a red-hot radiator. 
 
 "And who is that?" we inquired 
 
 " Why, that is a street-car conductor who 
 
 used to tell people to ' step lively,' " responded 
 
 the guide. 
 
 Mrs. Hi Huggins has taken in ■washin' by the day or 
 week so long that Hi has been able to save up enough 
 soap wrappers to get a good, double-jointed, bamboo 
 fishin' rod. 
 
 Last week we inserted an adv. in our lost-and-found 
 column, to the effect that the galoot who stole an um- 
 breller at the meetin '-house lecture the night before had 
 better bring it to the Bugle office or be prosecuted. 
 Fifteen cords of umbrellers have been throwed into our 
 backyard since that time, and they are still comin'. 
 
 Hank Tumms is gettin' to be quite a successful 
 author. He has had two recommendations for Curemall 
 and three for Binks's Tonic accepted within a month. 
 Hank says the road to literary fame is some arduous, 
 but he expects to remain on top as long as folks continue 
 to make patent medicine. 
 
 Elmer Spink is gettin' quite well acquainted down to 
 New York. He can call three bartenders by their first 
 name. He asked a policeman where the Battery was the 
 other day, and the policeman told him it was out to the 
 ball ground. 
 
 The Saucy Seesaw. 
 
 A GIRL bade her escort named Chaucer 
 To tilt on a teeter and toss her. 
 Said she, with a thud, 
 As she fell in the mud, 
 'Such a saucy seesaw I ne'er saw, sir!" 
 
 To the Belle of Monday. 
 
 BY ALICE E. ALLEN. 
 
 WRING out, wild Belle, with swish and swasl^ 
 With cloud of steam and rub-a-dubs. 
 With squeak of wringer, creak of tubs — 
 Wring out, wild Belle, the weekly wash. 
 
 Wring out the old, wring out the new; 
 Wring lightly. Belle, and have a care — 
 That sheet is tearing. Let it tear; 
 
 'Tis thus we tell the false from true. 
 
 Wring out that shirt-waist home-designed; 
 
 It ne'er shall vex my spirit more. 
 
 I'll send it to the heathen poor 
 To help re-dress some womankind. 
 
 Wring out that slowly fading frock 
 
 Of ancient form and last year's sleeves; 
 That shirt quite a la mode of Steve's, 
 
 And Maud's newfangled fancy stock. 
 
 Wring out odd shapes of every size — 
 The ever-narrowing under vest. 
 The worn-out socks, and all the rest — 
 
 Wring out, wild Belle, to the wild skies! 
 
 A LL TALK is not cheap. For instance, back talk to 
 a magistrate has not infrequently cost a man fifty 
 dollars as an alternative to going to jail. And then 
 there is Bryan. 
 
 A JUVENILE SUGGESTION. 
 "Grandfather," began Jimmy, as he gazed thoughtfully at 
 the aged man's shining head, " why don't you tell yourself a 
 hair-raising story f"
 
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 love: and ghosts 
 
 By MARION FOSTER WASHBURNE 
 
 THEY had been dipping amateurishly into the 
 mysteries of the hidden forces. They had tried 
 lifting one of their number — the heaviest— by 
 the tips of their fingers, all breathing together. 
 The experiment had failed, because never could five of 
 them manage to take three long breaths in unison with- 
 out laughter. Next they had tried mind-reading. 
 
 " Wasn't it wonderful, Harold?" Marcia asked. 
 " Why, when you held my hand I seemed to know exactly 
 ■where to go. I wasn't afraid. I went down those dark 
 cellar stairs and up to that ash-heap and found that 
 hidden ring as easy as could be. What do you suppose 
 did it?" 
 
 " I don't know," Harold answered. " It seemed to 
 me that something strange went from my hand to yours. ' ' 
 " Do you think any one else could have led me in the 
 same way?" Marcia asked. 
 
 " No, I don't," said Harold shortly. " I think there 
 has to be some sort of a sympathy between the person 
 
 whose mind is read and the one who is doing the reading. 
 Don't you ?" 
 
 " Perhaps," she said. 
 
 Above them on the stairs others were wondering over 
 the same occurrence. Every one had a ghost story to 
 tell. To no one had been denied the touch of some ex- 
 perience out of the common. 
 
 " Goodness!" cried Marcia, rising with a little shiver, 
 " I shall be afraid to go home. It must be almost mid- 
 night now." 
 
 Harold and Marcia were glad to get away and be 
 alone together for the walk home. It was not easy to 
 talk while their hearts were beating so loud. 
 
 Marcia broke the silence. " Aren't you almost afraid 
 to pass that queer old house to-night?" 
 
 "What house?" 
 
 " Why, the Haunted House. Harold, let's go round 
 the other way. It'll be just about midnight when we 
 get there." 
 
 'DAT AM YO' BRIDAL VEIL, HONEY."
 
 ^ 
 
 
 ',Si!*.-Tr^^; 
 
 OUGHT TO BE DUG OUT. 
 Blank — -"They say there's a lot of money in farming, nowadays.'' 
 Blink — "Ougiit to be, the way tliese rich city fellows are dropping money 
 into it " 
 
 "Nonsense! 
 You don't suppose 
 I'm afraid of an 
 old house! What's 
 there to it, any- 
 how? Just a little 
 forlorn house 
 standing alone in 
 a big yard." 
 
 " Wouldn't you 
 think that old 
 woman would be 
 afraid to live 
 there alone? They 
 say that once her 
 husband lived 
 there with her and 
 they had several 
 children; but one 
 by one they died. 
 All the funerals 
 
 went out from that front door and down the street- 
 They say she will live there until her own funeral car- 
 ries her away from that same front door. Oh, I hope 
 that will never happen to me, Harold!" 
 
 " It won't. I'm not going to die first." 
 
 Marcia gasped. Never had he spoken so openly be- 
 fore. For a wonder, she could find no words with which 
 to rebuke him. 
 
 They drew nearer to the Haunted House. The moon, 
 driving through the mist, lit these rising white forms 
 now and then. The house, a brown, battered cottage, 
 was surrounded by an overgrown, unkempt garden. 
 Marcia caught Harold's arm in a tighter grip. 
 
 "Look, look!' she whispered fearfully. Harold 
 turned his reluctant eyes away from her enticing face 
 and looked across the street. What he saw there 
 stopped him where he stood. There was, indeed, some- 
 thing white moving in and out among the shadowy trees. 
 
 " It's a ghost, Harold I It really is !" 
 
 "No, it isn't! Of course it isn't!" 
 
 "I dare you to go and see." The intoxication of 
 that calm assumption of his of a few minutes ago was 
 rising to Marcia's brain. She felt she must say or do 
 
 something — -she 
 didn't care just 
 what. Ghosts 
 were nothing com- 
 pared with the 
 thought that Har- 
 old was actually 
 planning a life for 
 them together. 
 
 "Pooh! I'd 
 just as leave go 
 as not. But what's 
 the sense in it? 
 I'd rather stay 
 here." 
 
 " I dare you! I 
 dare you! Oh, 
 see, Harold ! It's 
 truly there ! " 
 Harold covered 
 the clutching hand 
 on his arm with his other hand, and they both faced 
 about to look more searchingly into the depths of the 
 old garden. This time they not only saw the crouch- 
 ing, moving, white figure, but a wavering cry came to 
 their ears. 
 
 " Oh, do go! It seems to be in trouble. Go and see 
 what's the matter." 
 
 Now, Harold had no relish for this job. Another 
 look into the mysterious garden made him hesitate 
 again. Something was moving about there. Again 
 the wavering, faint cry came to his ears. 
 
 Marcia gave him a little excited push. "Oh, go!" 
 she urged. "You aren't afraid!" Harold turned to 
 her indignantly. 
 
 " I'll go because you want me to. But, if I go, 
 you've got to give me my reward when I come back." 
 
 " And what's that?" Marcia looked down. Harold 
 bent nearer. 
 
 " A kiss!" he said, and then dashed across the street, 
 fairly afraid of his own boldness. 
 
 He moved over the wet grass silently. Plainer and 
 plainer he saw before him that white thing. It was, 
 without doubt, the form of a woman. As he drew 
 
 INANIMATE EXPRESSIONS. 
 When your friend asks you for a twenty. When you ask him for the return of the twenty.
 
 nearer he saw not only her 
 white gown, but her gray 
 hair. She was stooping 
 and peering behind the 
 bushes. She drew nearer 
 the house. As she reached 
 the steps, he heard again 
 that plaintive cry. 
 
 At first he could not 
 make out the words she 
 cried, but in a moment 
 they reached him, clear and 
 unmistakable: 
 
 "Kitty, Kitty, Kitty!" 
 called the ghost. 
 
 Even more noiselessly 
 than he had entered, Har- 
 old slipped away out of 
 sight. He did not allow 
 himself to laugh until he 
 was half across the street. 
 
 " It was only an old 
 woman looking for her 
 cat," he called to Mar- 
 cia. "And now I get my reward!" 
 
 "Oh, no, you don't!" cried the girl. She picked up 
 her skirts and fled on fleet feet down into the mist-filled 
 hollow. He pursued her. The mists caught them and 
 hid them. Do you think he got his reward? 
 
 Her Roughing Outfit. 
 
 WITH our prying X- 
 ray. 
 In her grip we discern 
 The latest French play, 
 A cure for sunburn. 
 Some open-work socks. 
 
 Some chocolate creams, 
 A Japanese box 
 
 Of gloves that are 
 dreams. 
 Collections unique 
 
 Of puff-balls and lace — - 
 She will rough it a week 
 At a camping-out place- 
 
 A Preference. 
 
 it OHALL we have 
 *^ Tommy Noodlepate 
 for dinner?" asked Mrs. 
 Wiseacre. 
 
 "No, my dear," said 
 Professor Wiseacre. "I'm 
 fond of calves-brains, but 
 I think they are better 
 for luncheon than for din- 
 ner; and besides, they are not served on the hoof this 
 year." 
 
 AN OLD TIMER. 
 
 (i \Af HAT'S done to kill time there?" 
 »' "Oh, the bored walk." 
 
 OTTO l-ArvG 
 
 A CURIOUS FACT. 
 *Tim Murphy's a loafer. He quits th' job ivery fifteen minutes an' shtays away an hour,"
 
 Cupid and the Summer Girl 
 
 By LA TOUCHE HANCOCK 
 
 SHE SAT on the shore and gazed into the distance. 
 Her age was not uncertain — quite twoscore and 
 more. Very likely she had been beautiful in 
 the far off, but she had certainly lost her good 
 looks. A lack of exercise had aged her, and she was 
 distinctly Maypoley; in fact, hardly an enticing pic- 
 ture. Evidently she thought so herself, for, as she 
 gazed, she murmured, " Oh, that I could be beautiful 
 again, and live forever!" Then she blinked. (She had 
 a peculiar habit of blinking her eyes just like an owl 
 when exposed to the daylight.) Resting her head on a 
 small rock, and humming that old, old ditty, " I wish I 
 had some one to love 
 me," she reclined almost 
 at full length. Some dis- 
 tance away was another 
 rock, on which she fixed 
 her eyes. So great was 
 her concentration that 
 she presently fancied — 
 no ! it could not be ! She 
 blinked again. Yes, it 
 was a diminutive, half- 
 clad figure approaching 
 her, carrying a bow and 
 arrows. The form ap- 
 proached still nearer. It 
 stood before her. 
 
 " So," said a voice, 
 "you wish to be beauti- 
 ful and live forever?" 
 
 ILLUSTRATED FINANCIAL TERM. 
 
 Floating a Loan. 
 
 The words were spoken in such a chummy, half- 
 humorous way that she was encouraged to reply, " I do 
 most certainly !" 
 
 " Well," and the little god looked her up and down, 
 "it's not difficult to make you live forever, but" — he 
 made a closer scrutiny of her features — " it will be 
 rather a hard task to make you beautiful." 
 She blinked at the rudeness of the remark. 
 "Pardon me!" went on Cupid; "I am as blunt as 
 some of my arrows. Tell me your name." 
 " Green," she replied, with a tiny blush. 
 " Green? And your first name?" 
 
 "Olive." 
 
 " A colorable combi- 
 nation, and yet you are 
 dark." 
 
 " I was born in India 
 and have curry in my 
 blood." 
 
 Cupid hid a smile. 
 " Well," said he after 
 a pause, " I'll make the 
 best job of it I can. 
 Beauty fades, you know ; 
 but I daresay a little un- 
 natural attention on your 
 part will preserve the 
 countenance I shall give 
 you. I can only," he add- 
 ed, "grant your wish 
 with a qualification. You 
 
 ' '^ 'jit 
 
 MODERN IMPROVEMENTS, 
 First sc/iolar—" What's the 'lectrician doin' over at the schoolhouse ?" 
 Second scholar — " Puttin' in a 'lectric switch.'' 
 First scholar — " Gee muUy ! If they's goin' ter do the lickin' by 'lectricity, I quit.'"
 
 shall certainly live forever if you wish to, though I fan- 
 cy you'll get a trifle tired of immortality; but as for 
 good looks, you shall enjoy your share of them for a 
 time, anyway." 
 
 " Why not forever?" she interrupted. 
 
 " It can't be done," replied Cupid; "but I'll make a 
 compromise. What do you say to becoming a Summer 
 Girl?" 
 
 She jumped to her feet with delight. 
 
 " Agreed!" she cried with fervor. 
 
 "Very well. Sit down again and close your eyes; 
 and, by the way," said he, as he commenced to walk 
 away, " if you should ever need me, just pronounce my 
 name, and I'll be with you. Your eyes shut? Ta, ta!" 
 
 For a moment she lay with closed eyes; then she 
 opened them and blinked. Cupid had disappeared. She 
 looked at the rock in the distance. It was apparently 
 immovable. Then she took a small hand mirror from 
 her pocket, looked into it, literally leaped for joy, and 
 "xclaimed, 
 
 " He was as good as his word !" 
 
 Yes, she was beautiful, or as beautiful as she could 
 be made. The job was qualified, but certainly accept- 
 able. As she rapturously kissed the mirror, a man ap- 
 proached. His face was pale and his clothes were de- 
 cidedly shabby. His hair looked underdone. It was 
 quite sanguineous. He stopped a few paces from her 
 and sighed. 
 
 "Lovely evening, " he murmured, approaching still 
 closer. She fancied she had heard the phrase before, 
 but, being now a Summer Girl, she entered into the 
 spirit of his small talk. 
 
 "Beautiful!" she murmured in unison; and then. 
 
 A SHIP OF THE DESERT HEAVING TWO 
 
 ONE OPTIMIST AT LEAST. 
 " How's business ?" 
 " Oil, looking up" 
 
 with a nonchalance that was surprising to herself, 
 added, " Won't you sit down?" He would and did. 
 
 " Doesn't the sea look delicious?" she next ventured. 
 
 " The sight of the sea " — and he made a grimace — 
 " is as sickening to me as if I were on it. I look upon 
 it as a magnified wash basin." 
 
 This was disconcerting. She tried again. 
 
 " Wasn't the sunset splendid last night?" 
 
 " I have never seen the sun set, and I am never up 
 late enough to see it rise." 
 
 This reply was so astonishing that she blinked and 
 blurted "ut, " Are you a human being?" 
 
 " No," said he convincingly, " I'm not. I'm a mar- 
 ried man !" 
 
 She started up with a shriek. 
 
 " I mean," he corrected himself, " I was a married 
 man. I am now a kind of widower." 
 
 As this was partially satisfying, she resumed her 
 seat. 
 
 "You needn't be alarmed," he continued. "I am 
 not in search of a wife, but a collaborateur. " 
 
 An idea struck her. 
 
 " You are a literary man?" 
 
 "Yes; a ghost!" then perceiving that she was 
 alarmed, " but a somewhat substantial ghost. Once on 
 a time no happier journalist lived, or lied. No editor 
 ever put my manuscripts in the basket where he was in 
 the habit of placing his waste paper. Whenever I wrote 
 for a periodical, it's circulation always went up ten 
 quires. Then came a change. I was, the editors said, 
 written out. I disagreed with them and formed a plan. 
 I would not wring your withers, but shall I unfold it to 
 you?" 
 
 Being in doubt as to the exact position of her withers, 
 and being also exceedingly curious, she assented.
 
 FROM THE PUPVILLE PRESS. 
 " Miss Pugg came out to-day in one of those new tight- 
 fitting gowns ■' 
 
 " I noticed that some of the contributions to the 
 magazines, with celebrated names affixed, were con- 
 temptibly weak. The works of the present-day writers 
 had become exceedingly uneven. I knew that magazine 
 editors were always on the watch to discover new talent 
 — in old names, so I became a literary ghost. Had I not 
 done so I wouU ere now have been a literal ghost." 
 
 She blinked at the pun. 
 
 " I confess it. I am a humbug. I write, and the 
 celebrated authors put their names to my stories." 
 
 The idea was so novel to her that she did not exercise 
 her prerogative of interrupting him, but merely glued 
 her eyes on his face. 
 
 " I know little about woman's dress. Jet passemen- 
 terie, blue broche, chiffon, filosselle are Greek to me. 
 I steal" — and he lowered his voice to a whisper — -"I 
 steal from the woman's pages. I have no conception of 
 scenery. I am color blind. My plots and characters 
 are as old as the hills. Consequently, I — and the cele- 
 brated authors whose ghost I am — are successful!" 
 
 "Wonderful, yet curious," she muttered. Then, 
 " You said you had been married. Did your wife help 
 you?" 
 
 " A little. When I first met her spluttering and 
 gurgling in the Atlantic, she filled me with inspiration. 
 Our very introduction was in this way a kind of domestic 
 idyl. A writer, I knew, sometimes acquires a fresh 
 lease of popularity by taking a wife, so 1 took one." 
 
 Again a fit of nervousness overtook her. 
 
 " Where is she now?" she faintly inquired. 
 
 He disregarded the question and proceeded, " I am 
 a bad hand at the matrimonial game. I am eternally 
 being mated, but now " 
 
 " But now?" she repeated. 
 
 " I am in search of a collaborateur, not a wife." 
 
 She considered for a moment. According to the 
 ethics of a Summer Girl it didn't much matter whether 
 
 he was married or not. Therefore, why not remain in 
 ignorance of his domestic affairs? She would. 
 
 " What are you doing here?" she asked. 
 
 " Here?" and he sighed again. " I left the giddy 
 metropolis for a while to inhale the pure and ambient 
 air of simple-minded nature, tinted with " 
 
 " Yes, I know," she interrupted, " you left the city 
 for a day to " 
 
 "Get engaged," he blurted. This comforted her. 
 He was evidently not married. " I have had enough of 
 marriage. I wish to be engaged — forever!" 
 
 She saw her opportunity. She had never heard of a 
 Summer Girl marrying. Why not be engaged forever? 
 She would be. He had led up to the subject. She 
 would clinch it. 
 
 " Don't you hear some music?" said she romantically. 
 
 " Only your voice," he murmured in reply. This was 
 a good beginning. He followed it up. 
 
 " Who are you?" 
 
 She hesitated, and then slyly blinking said, " A Sum- 
 mer Girl"! 
 
 His face lighted up. 
 
 "The very thing!" 
 
 "Thing?" 
 
 " Woman, adorable woman, I mean. Will you be en- 
 gaged to me forever?" 
 
 Impetuously she cried, " I will!" 
 
 " But do you think you — I mean — your promise will 
 last so long?" 
 
 " Listen," said she. " Once in my young days, when 
 I always wished to be what I am now, I wrote a poem." 
 
 He shuddered. 
 
 " I am not a poet." 
 
 He breathed a sigh of relief. 
 
 " But under some weird inspiration these lines fell 
 from my pen. I don't think they're bad. Shall I recite 
 them?" 
 
 " Is the poem long?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Then I'd love to hear it." 
 
 
 NO VIOLATION 
 Old party — " Can't you boys read ?" 
 Boy — " Cert, mister ; but it's all right — we can't swim."
 
 So in lilting tones she spoke as follows: 
 
 " Time was when love and I were well acquainted, 
 
 Time was when we walked ever hand in hand — 
 A Summer Girl with every one acquainted, 
 
 None better loved than I in all the land. 
 Time was, I bore a sisterly relation 
 
 To very nearly every man I met; 
 All gazed upon me, rapt in adoration. 
 
 Ah, me! how soon my sun of love has set! 
 
 " Time was when each aspiring bard affected 
 
 An ode to me in rather rapturous rhyme. 
 Why is it now the Summer Girl's neglected? 
 
 You never hear of me in winter time. 
 Time was — but is there really any reason 
 
 Why times so good as those should pass away? 
 For men may come, and men may go each season. 
 
 But I'll go on forever and a day!" 
 
 "That settles it," he exclaimed as she finished. 
 " We are engaged forever." 
 
 " Forever!" she echoed, as a neighboring clock 
 chimed out a quarter of the hour of noon. He took her 
 in his arms. 
 
 " The symbol of mutual sympathy between man and 
 man appears when cigar meets cigar. When man 
 meets woman, a kiss " — — 
 
 He stopped suddenly and looked at her. "Great 
 Scott!" he ejaculated, " what a change!" 
 
 " Where?" cried she in dismay. 
 
 " In the weather," he returned, at the same time dis- 
 
 engaging himself from her. " It's raining. I almost: 
 always carry an umbrella with me, but," he continued, 
 " I really cannot have the trouble of opening it only to 
 fold it up again. Good-by!" And off he actually ran. 
 She stood stupidly staring after him for a moment and 
 then flung herself on the sand. 
 
 " A lunatic!" sh» eried, and burst into tears. Pres- 
 ently, growing calmer, she wiped her eyes, and taking 
 out her pocket mirror looked to see if the traces of tears 
 were quite gone. She started back as she beheld htr 
 old face. 
 
 " Cupid, Cupid!" she shouted in alarm, and turning 
 around she saw the little god standing by her. 
 
 " What's this? You have deceived me." 
 
 "Deceived you? Nay!" said Cupid. "I said you 
 should be beautiful as a Summer Girl. You forget the 
 date. 'Tis now September the twenty-third, when at 
 eleven-forty-four a. m. the summer ends. Autumn has 
 begun, and with autumn you resume your former face." 
 
 "A trick,' she cried. " No more of this. I'll be no 
 Summer Girl again. I " 
 
 "Very well, "said Cupid smiling. "The spell is taken 
 off entirely. I think you're wise. " Then, as she seemed 
 about to change her mind, he took a furtive glance at 
 her and muttered to himself, " I don't think I ever be- 
 fore realized the potentialities of ugliness to which th*- 
 sex may attain." 
 
 Then he flitted, and left her blinking. 
 
 10 
 
 HONK! HONK! 
 She — " Do you think nervousness can be cured by auto-suggestion ?" 
 He — " No ; but I think a good many cases could be cured by auto suppression."
 
 I r/JjjJt ' 4 
 
 BRUTE ! 
 Jimson — " Where's your wife ? Haven't seen her often lately.' 
 Weed — "Oh, 1 sent her away on a little vacation." 
 Jimson — "So ? Where'd she go?" 
 Weed—" To the Thousand Isles " 
 Jimson — " Stay long ?" 
 Weed — "Yes. I told her to take a week to each island." 
 
 For Value Received. 
 
 By DON KAHN. 
 
 Ann Harbor, Conn. 
 
 PRESIDENT Yarnell University— Dear sir: I write 
 to tell you of the sociable evening that I enjoyed 
 last week, and to request you to thank your sopho- 
 more classes for the same. Wednesday night I attended 
 prayer meeting, and as I stepped out of the church was 
 met by a gang of second-year men, fifty strong. My 
 reception was most cordial. A freshman at your univer- 
 sity cannot complain that he is given any half-way wel- 
 come. The second-year men escorted me to and up a 
 very high maple tree, fearing, I suppose, that from the 
 ground I might miss some of the beautiful and pictur- 
 esque scenery in the vicinity. 
 
 Upon descending from my elevated position I was in- 
 troduced to a young lady who was passing, and was 
 invited to pour out my soul in eloquence to her. It 
 speaks for great liberality of thought at your university 
 that one should be so heartily encouraged to propose 
 marriage on such short acquaintance. I was even re- 
 quested by the enthusiastic sophomores who gathered 
 about me to kiss the young lady's hand. 
 
 A song service down-town near the moving-picture 
 show, in which I was given a solo part, was the next 
 thing on the program. Nine " rahs " for the sophomore 
 class and a mud bath ended the exciting evening for me. 
 
 I mention these things not because I believe that you 
 are actively interested in them, but merely to show you 
 that such hospitality is appreciated by a stranger who 
 had been in your college town but a short time. It is 
 this sort of hospitality that speaks louder than the 
 welcome on the door mat. 
 
 What was so pleasing about the whole entertainment 
 was that it came so unexpectedly. Had I been a fresh- 
 man I might have anticipated something of the kind, 
 but merely being a traveling man, who was in town on a 
 business visit, I can assure you that it came as an 
 unlooked-for pledge of universal good fellowship. 
 Very sincerely yours, 
 
 Martin L. Murdoch. 
 
 No One Questions It. 
 
 AN AUTOMOBILE party was tour- 
 ing through the mountainous dis- 
 trict of western Pennsylvania, and 
 had made a stop in one of the small 
 towns to make some repairs to the 
 machine. While they waited, the at- 
 tention of one of the party was called 
 to an intelligent-looking lad of about 
 fourteen who seemed to be very much 
 interested in the work, and of whom 
 the following question was asked, 
 
 " Say, son, what do you live on out 
 here?" 
 
 "Nuthin," replied the somewhat 
 surprised youth. " Dad's a preacher." 
 
 ¥ OVE is a sea skirted by long piers, 
 ^* out upon which young couples 
 stroll to sit down and fall in. 
 
 
 MIRACULOUS 
 Englishman (reading)— "' /i^/i Out — This Means You!' 
 Bah Jove ! how did they know 1 was coming?"
 
 Crosscut's Persuader 
 
 By GORTON CARRUTH 
 
 ««' 
 
 speed mania is undoubtedly a great evil, but 
 it is not incapable of correction. Moral sua- 
 sion is what is needed — not coercive measures. Cir- 
 cumstances once forced me to quiet the nerves of the 
 speed maniac, and the methods I adopted were peculiarly 
 persuasive and efficient. 
 
 " I was living on a farm at the time, and naturally 
 was possessed of chickens, cows, pigs, and other animals 
 incident to the bucolic life. Near my farm passed the 
 main highway 
 leading to a neigh- 
 boring large city. 
 Along this road 
 there shot night 
 and morning a 
 quivering streak 
 of automobilists 
 going to and from 
 their offices in the 
 city. Naturally 
 my live-stock be- 
 gan to suffer. 
 First some chick- 
 ens, then a couple 
 of pigs, and final- 
 ly a cow became 
 the unwilling vic- 
 tims of the gaso- 
 line Juggernauts. 
 The chief offend- 
 er, and, in fact, 
 the leader, was a 
 red-haired, red- 
 nosed individual 
 in goggles who 
 drove a large red 
 car. He lived 
 about ten miles on 
 
 beyond my place. It was not, I fear, always purely 
 animal spirits that drove him to emulate greased light- 
 ning. He used to zigzag through my unsuspecting poul- 
 try with such remarks as, 'Caught him on the wing,' 
 ' How's that for high?' ' Over the fence for yours,' and 
 such sporting phrases. I saw that I must act at once if 
 I wished any of my stock left alive. 
 
 " So I bought myself a light, speedy motor-cycle, and 
 constructed thereon, of canvas, rubber, and light wood, 
 a huge figure of the common, every-day, barnyard rooster. 
 It stood about fifteen feet high and was arranged so that 
 I sat on the saddle within the body of the bird. The 
 legs hung down on either side and were attached to the 
 wheels so that they worked back and forth true to 
 nature. 
 
 "I selected for my purpose one evening at dusk, 
 when my speedy friend came racing along, tossing my 
 hens about in his usual facetfious manner. Then just as 
 
 HENGltR.. 
 
 Tall man — 
 Short man- 
 
 TOO MUCH 
 Why, Judkins, old man, 
 ■'What! Broke again ?" 
 
 he passed I sparked up and started after him up the 
 road. He looked back and saw in the twilight a gigan- 
 tic rooster leaping after him with great twenty-foot 
 strides, wings outspread and long neck stretched for- 
 ward, the bill opening and shutting in raucous squawks. 
 The unfortunate man gave one glance, then threw on all 
 his power and crouched down in his seat. But he could 
 not escape me. Gradually I closed up on him and reach- 
 ing over began to peck at the back of his neck with my 
 tin bill. That was enough. He gave a yell of terror, 
 
 stopped his motor, 
 lit on the road in 
 front on all fours, 
 and disappeared in 
 the woods. 
 
 " He never re- 
 turned for the 
 automobile and I 
 took possession of 
 it. With his go- 
 ing the other 
 fiends quieted 
 down and I was no 
 longer troubled. 
 Yes; moral sua- 
 sion is the thing 
 every time." 
 
 Very Busy. 
 
 VEARS ago a 
 Northern vis- 
 itor was walking 
 along the street 
 in Jacksonville, 
 when he espied a 
 small darky sit- 
 
 I " ting in the sun, 
 
 brushing flies off 
 of himself. 
 " Well, 'Rastus," the visitor said, pausing to address 
 the youth, " do you manage to keep busy these days?" 
 " Yassuh," returned the boy. 
 
 " Very busy?" queried the visitor in an unbelieving 
 tone of voice. 
 
 " All de time, suh," said the boy. 
 " At it now?" grinned the visitor. 
 " Yassuh," said the boy. 
 
 " What is your business — shooing flies?" asked the 
 visitor. 
 
 " No, suh. My business is jest growin', suh," ex- 
 plained the youth. 
 
 Reasonable. 
 
 Little girl — " Say, mamma, ain't I made of dust?" 
 Mother — " Yes, dear." 
 
 Little girl — " Well, why don't I get muddy when \ 
 drink?" 
 
 PLEASURE. 
 
 I am pleased to see you !
 
 The Editor and White Paper 
 
 By WILLIAM J. LAMPTON 
 
 THE Managing Editor of a Metropolitan Newspaper, 
 price one cent, was submerged in thought. He 
 was confronting a condition, not a theory, and he 
 was chock up against it. 
 
 He was a very Superior Managing Editor, drawing an 
 Immense Salary, and it was up to him to make Good. 
 This he had done Nobly by the introduction of the latest 
 Improvements in News-getting, Labor-increasing De- 
 vices for Reporters, New and Novel Designs for Sunday 
 Editors, and the thousand and one other Methods known 
 only to Very Superior Managing Editors. The result of 
 his devotion to Duty showed in a largely augmented 
 Circulation. Indeed, he did not hesitate to announce in 
 Vociferous, Vermilion type that his was the LARGEST 
 CIRCULATION in the City. That his Obscure Con- 
 temporaries made similar statements did not disturb 
 him One Whit. They were mere Imitators. That was 
 all. 
 
 Consequent upon the Increased Circulation of the 
 paper. Prices of Advertising were Advanced to the 
 Limit, as was Perfectly Legitimate and Customary. 
 This was done by the Business Office, which has no 
 Visible Connection with the Editorial Office, and the 
 Managing Editor had not been apprised of it. Nor did 
 he care to be. Business was none of his business. 
 
 The Managing Editor continued his Efforts with Fer- 
 vent Zeal, and the Circulation continued to increase. 
 But the Advertisers would not Stand For an Increase of 
 Rates. They were willing to play the Limit, but they 
 id not w/sh the Roof to be raised to accommodate it. 
 
 At or about this stage of affairs came the Opportunity 
 of the Managing Editor's Life. He had learned, as only 
 Superior Managing Editors can learn, of a SCOOP of 
 such Tremendous Import that its Virtues would last not 
 for a Day only, but for Weeks and Weeks, adding New 
 Readers every day. It would cost $5,000, spot cash, to 
 secure it, with the necessary incidental expenses. The 
 Managing Editor had full authority over incidentals, but 
 he must go Higher Up for a Large Wad; so he called a 
 meeting of the General Council, including the Business 
 Manager, that Commercial-minded person who is ordi- 
 narily kept Down-stairs somewhere out of the Lime- 
 light. 
 
 The Managing Editor stated his Case in Glowing 
 Language, and the Editorial End of the Council exploded 
 with Enthusiasm. It was the Grandest that ever hap- 
 pened, and they turned Admiring Eyes upon the Superior 
 Managing Editor, who blushed with Modest Pride. 
 
 Next came the Business Manager. He had a Hook 
 up his sleeve. 
 
 " You say," he said in Hard, Unfeeling tones, " that 
 this proposition will increase our Circulation by about 
 50,000?" 
 
 "At a Moderate Estimate," replied the Managing 
 Editor, whistling, as it were, to keep his courage up. 
 " I would not be at all surprised if it hit the hundred- 
 thousand mark." 
 
 " Very well," continued the Business Manager with 
 steely coldness; " let us split the difference and call it 
 75,000. Our present circulation is 150,000. With white 
 
 '!?;■ 
 
 '/«(.. l'^''^".<T«'y'»4''-« 
 
 ■ 1^ "^i" 
 
 ON INTIMATE TERMS. 
 Abner — " Lan ' sakes ! thet nabob in the automobile waved his hand at ye real familiar like. Do ye know him, SI ?" 
 Squire St — " V'ew bet ! Why, I do all his finin' fer him."
 
 paper costing 
 what it now does, 
 we are losing 
 money on every 
 paper we sell. If 
 you increase our 
 circulation fifty 
 per cent., you in- 
 crease our losses 
 fifty per cent., 
 not to mention 
 the $5,000 you 
 ask for to effect 
 the additional 
 loss. That's all I 
 have to say," he 
 concluded, rising 
 from the Council 
 table; " and you 
 may look over the 
 books at any time 
 to verify it." 
 
 The Council, 
 with Dampened 
 Ardor, dissolved, 
 and the Managing 
 Editor returned to 
 his chair, where 
 he became sub- 
 merged in 
 Thought, as else- 
 where noted. And 
 the Condition con- 
 fronting him was 
 This: If he did 
 not Earn his Sal- 
 ary by supplying 
 readers with the Stuff which would Increase the Circu- 
 lation, he would lose his job; and if he Increased the 
 Circulation the Paper would Lose the Money out of 
 which his Salary was paid, thus letting him in Bad. 
 Now how was he to Escape the Business Manager's 
 Hook? 
 
 Infant Philosophy. 
 
 THERE was a young boy known as Bill, 
 Who ate till he made himself ill. 
 When his mother said " Why?" 
 He replied with a sigh, 
 " It's dreadful how quickly I fill!" 
 
 Promptness. 
 
 By F. P. PITZER. 
 
 THE Foozelem Insurance Company 
 promptness in settling claims, 
 beat of an insurant is hardly sounded when the 
 first hoof-beat heard on the threshold belongs to our 
 agent coming to pay the claim. 
 This is on the dead level. 
 Die and see for yourself. 
 We give below a few testimonials. 
 We have millions more just like them. Come to the 
 
 office 
 them. 
 
 and count 
 
 PUZZLED, 
 reco'nize me, Uncle Eph ?" 
 
 "Don'yo' 
 
 "Well, yo' face looks fawmilyah, but 
 recoUecshun." 
 
 yo 
 
 feet dun grow out uv mah 
 
 July 1st, 1909. 
 Gen 1 1 emen — 
 My husband was 
 insured in your 
 company for $5,- 
 000. Last week 
 he drowned him- 
 self. When they 
 pulled him out of 
 the water a Fooze- 
 lem check for $5,- 
 
 000 was found in 
 his back pocket 
 in settlement of 
 the claim. Thanks. 
 
 July 13th, 1909. 
 
 Gentle men — 
 My better half 
 was blown up in 
 amine. His beau- 
 tiful architectural 
 anatomy was scat- 
 tered over five or 
 six counties. His 
 feet blew into the 
 tenth story of a 
 skyscraper and 
 kicked out the of- 
 fice-boy. One of 
 his hands was 
 found twelve 
 miles away tight- 
 
 1 y clutching a 
 Foozelem check 
 for $1,000, in set- 
 tlement of a poli- 
 cy for that amount 
 which he had in 
 your company. It 
 is believed that 
 the check wasgiv- 
 
 is noted for its 
 The last pulse- 
 
 en to the hand while it was being blown past the Fooze- 
 lem Company's window of its down-town office. 
 
 June 23d, 1909. 
 Gentlemen— My hubby, who owns a Foozelem policy, 
 was continually worrying about his gray hair. So he 
 dyed. Your death-claims department immediately sent 
 me a check for the amount of his policy. My husband 
 wishes me to thank you. 
 
 Avoiding Temptation. 
 
 Tommy—" Ma, I met the minister on my way to 
 Sunday school, and he asked me if I ever went fishing 
 on Sunday." 
 
 Mater—" And what did you say, darling?" 
 Tommy—" I said, ' Get thee behind me, Satan,' and 
 ran right aw • 'rom him." 
 
 Couldn't AKord To Throw It Away. 
 
 Uncle Ebb (feebly)—" Well, Hanna, I reckon you had 
 better call de chiliun aroun' me, 'cause I believes I's 
 
 gwine die." 
 
 Aunt Hanna— " Ho, you ain't. You ain't gwine do 
 no such a thing till you takes dis here medicine what I 
 done gone and paid a dollar and a half for ''
 
 Giving tiie Slieatli Sliirt a Cold Slioulder 
 
 By BETH THORNDYKE LORING 
 
 TWO BATHING-SUITS flapped on the line trying "They will soon break her if she tries to float with 
 
 to get dry. them. Watch how she flirts with the breeze. Isn't she 
 
 Suddenly one laid a wet arm on the other's bold?" 
 
 shoulder. " Yes; she goes entirely too far." 
 
 "Look!" she cried excitedly; "did you know who "Oh, I know she heard us that time; she looked as if 
 
 was next to us?" she would like to rip us open." 
 
 The other Bathing-suit looked and shivered. " Who cares what a double-faced person like herself 
 
 "That Sheath creature," she said contemptuously. thinks? In the water this morning she looked blue with 
 
 " Are you going to bow?" the cold from the frappe stares she received on both 
 
 " Never!" returned the other firmly. " We will side- sides." 
 
 step her. She is too fly away for me." " She has too much side." 
 
 " I'm afraid, though, she will soon be in the swim," "Yes; she is such bad form, and so open about it. 
 
 returned the second. She doesn't seem to care. She is looking again. Quick; 
 
 "Well, I for one will throw cold water upon her Blow the other way." 
 
 social schemes. She is too fresh for me." The Sheath Skirt, however, only tossed herself airily 
 
 " You are quite right. She can't travel on the same in the breeze and nearly split her sides laughing at them, 
 
 wavewithus. She is looking. Let's blow the other way." 
 
 " Poor thing! I am afraid she heard us. She looks 
 all cut up." 
 
 " Oh, that's her main card. Did you notice how 
 those swells took her up this morning?" 
 
 Mrs. Green — " You have never taken me to the ceme- 
 tery." 
 
 Mr. Green — " No, my dear. I still have that pleasure 
 in anticipation." 
 
 
 
 BADLY PUT. 
 " No, ray friend ; 1 will not be still. Your poor horse, alas ! cannot speak, like Balaam's ass ; but I would have you 
 know, sir, that I can!'' ?'
 
 The Transform2ition 
 
 By DONALD A. KAHN 
 
 A KNOCK at the door. 
 The magazine editor stopped shoving rejection 
 slips into the self-addressed stamped envelopes, 
 took the stogie from his mouth, spit into the 
 waste-basket, and yelled, " Come in!" 
 
 The door opened with determination, and an indi- 
 vidual walked in who looked as if he were a prosperous 
 business man. At this sight the editor arose, politely 
 placed a chair for his distinguished-looking visitor, and 
 assumed the genial air which he used with advertisers 
 in his magazine. 
 
 " What can I do for you, sir?" he asked. 
 
 " I have called, " began the prosperous-looking gen- 
 tleman, " I have cailed to see you in regard to a small 
 matter which I believe will result to our mutual ad- 
 vantage. I am not encroaching upon your time?" 
 
 " Certainly not!" responded the editor. 
 
 " You have a nice little magazine, and from the ad- 
 vertising pages " 
 
 " Yes; our circulation, in round numbers, is 294,587,- 
 634,657," interrupted the editor. 
 
 " As I was saying, from the advertising pages to the 
 front cover, it is as good a literary article as is on the 
 news-stands to-day." 
 
 " Thank you, sir," said the editor, in an axle-grease 
 voice. 
 
 " From the appearance of your periodical, I should 
 judge that you are very liberal in your attitude toward 
 your subscribers and your contributors." 
 
 " Yes, sir," said the editor. But there was a slight 
 hitch in his voice. 
 
 " Now here I have a very clever little thing called 
 The Beauties of Spring.' " He took a roll of manuscript 
 from an inside pocket. 
 
 The magazine editor 
 was so badly shocked that 
 he knocked off the pot of 
 paste and upset the waste- 
 basket. 
 
 " You're not a poet?" 
 he gasped incredulously. 
 
 "Yes," answered the 
 prosperous-looking i n d i - 
 vidua! simply. 
 
 "But your clothes!" 
 shrieked the editor. "They 
 are in style, they fit; your 
 collar and shirt are the 
 latest design; your tie is 
 not one of those flowing 
 Lord Byron bows!" 
 
 " I know it," replied 
 the poet quietly. " You 
 see, I've been reading your 
 department called, ' The 
 Correctly Dressed Man.' It 
 was there that I learned." 
 
 The editor was mystified. "But the quality! Yim 
 are dressed in the very best — that takes money!" 
 
 " I know," said the poet. " I've made money; I've 
 been reading your page on 'Safe Investments.' " 
 
 " But your air of confidence, your poise, your way of 
 introducing yourself and your business! You don't act 
 like a poet." 
 
 " Time was when I was bashful, and I used to sneak 
 into an editorial office as if I had stolen something," 
 responded the poet quietly; "but your column on the 
 ' Development of the Personality ' helped me." 
 
 " Well, don't that beat Ed Bock !" said the astonished 
 editor, reaching for his check-book, and taking his 
 fountain-pen off his ear. " Here, I'll take your stuff. 
 I never had any idea any one ever read those depart- 
 ments." 
 
 Emotional Insanity. 
 
 A GAY young Parisian, de Laine, 
 Long courted an heiress in vain. 
 When he said, " Now or niver!" 
 She answered, " Au river!" 
 So he promptly, of course, went in Seine. 
 
 Unprofitable. 
 
 Kind old lady — "Why, my dear little boy, what is 
 the use of crying like that?" 
 
 Little boy — " 'Tain't no use. I've been cryin' like 
 this all mornin' an' nobody ain't give me a penny yit." 
 
 Small Difference Then. 
 
 -"But, man, you must fight! You'll 
 
 be 
 
 AN AERIAL FRANKFURTER. 
 " Oh, ma I look at the dog-angel. " 
 
 Friend 
 branded as a coward. Your honor is at stake." 
 
 Challenged — " I'll not fight. What's a man's honor 
 when his wife's a widow?" 
 
 A Little Home Talk. 
 
 tt^ATILLIE?" 
 
 *" "Yes'm." 
 
 " Have you been in 
 swimming?" 
 
 "No'm." 
 
 " How did your shirt 
 get so wet?" 
 
 " I perspirated on it — 
 honest, I did." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " Yes'm. That's what 
 done it. I run so fast to 
 get away from where I 
 would be tempted to dis- 
 obey you that I got all wet 
 with sweat." 
 
 "Willie?" 
 
 "Yes'm." 
 
 " Come here." 
 
 "Yes'm." 
 
 ^:>!ne»<"r-iS->
 
 ONE FOR THE MINIStCa. 
 
 AN OLD minister in the south side of Glasgow, who 
 ' was noted for his habit of dishing up old sermons 
 again and again, was one day advertised to preach in a 
 suburban church at the anniversary service there. An 
 old woman who in days gone by had sat under his min- 
 istry, but who had now removed from his neighborhood, 
 determined to go in and hear him preach on this particu- 
 lar occasion. After the close of the service she waited 
 on the clergyman, who greeted her cordially and asked 
 what she thought of his discourse. 
 
 " Eh, man," she replied candidly, " it's a lang time 
 sin' I first heard ye preach that yin, sir, and I've heard 
 ye at it a guid wheen o' times sin' syne." 
 
 "Aye, Janet," said the minister. "How often do 
 ye think ye've heard it, na?" 
 
 " Oh, aboot a dizzen o' times, sir," she replied. 
 
 " An' div ye mind it a'?" said the minister. 
 
 " Aweel, maybe no' it a', sir." 
 
 " Weel, I see I'll need to preach it to ye again, 
 Janet," said the minister; and Janet felt that she had 
 been sold for once. 
 
 WISE. 
 
 npHE TRAVELER met an old colored man 
 ging away at the bridle of a balky mule. 
 
 " What's the matter with him, 
 uncle?" asked the traveler. 
 
 "Jess full of pure cussedness. Ah 
 specs, sah. He'll stay right in dat same 
 position fob two or three houahs, sah." 
 
 " That so? Well, why don't you 
 build a fire under him?" 
 
 " What? A fire under dat mule? 
 Lands, mister, if Ah was to build a fire 
 under dat mule, he'd stay here all day 
 en wahm hiaself." 
 
 STRATEGY. 
 
 AN IRON hoop bounced through the 
 area railings of a suburban wom- 
 an's house recently and played havoc 
 with the kitchen window. The woman 
 waited, anger in her eye, for the ap- 
 pearance of the hoop's owner. Pres- 
 ently he came. 
 
 "Please, I've broken your winder, " 
 he said, " and here's my father to fix 
 it." 
 
 And, sure enough, he was followed 
 by a stolid-looking workman, who at 
 once started to work, while the small 
 boy took his hoop and ran off. 
 
 "That'll be a dollar, ma'am," an- 
 nounced the glazier when the window 
 was whole once more. 
 
 "A dollar!" gasped the woman. 
 "But your little boy broke it! The 
 little fellow with the hoop, you know. 
 You're his father, aren't you?" 
 
 tug- 
 
 The stolid man shook his head. 
 
 " Don't know him from Adam," he said. " He caiUd 
 around to my place and told me his mother wanted her 
 winder fixed. You're his mother, aren't you?" 
 
 And the woman shook her head also. 
 
 PLAIN ENGLISH. 
 
 IIY THE extraordinary contortions of her neck, ne 
 concluded that she was trying to get a glimpse of 
 the back of her new blouse ; by the tense lines and 
 scintillating flesh about her lips, he concluded that her 
 mouth was full of pins. 
 
 " Umph — goof — suff — wufl' — sh — flFs — pog — ufF?" she 
 asked. 
 
 "Quite so, my dear," he agreed; "it looks very 
 nice." 
 
 " Ouff — wun — so — gs — phu — muf — ugh — ight?" was 
 her next remark. 
 
 "Perhaps \twould look better if you did that," he 
 nodded; "but it fits very nicely as it is." 
 
 She gasped and emptied the pins into her hands. 
 
 " I've asked you twice to raise the blinds so that I 
 could get more light, James," she exploded. "Can't 
 you understand plain English?" 
 
 A LEADING QUESTION. 
 " Is this town a good place for a fellow to come to who is a bit run down ?'' 
 " Whiskey er automobiles ?"
 
 The Making' of a M^lg'azine 
 
 By RALPH BERGENGREN 
 
 A YOUNG man with a magazine under his arm pene- 
 trated into a busy man's office. The busy man 
 looked up from his work, and with a deft move- 
 ment the young man spread open the advertising section 
 of the magazine. 
 
 " Just a moment," said the young man. " Advertis- 
 ing section of Proniiscus's Magazine — you know Promis- 
 cas's Magazine. Syndicate of big advertisers bought 
 space. Magazine guarantees 300,000" 
 
 " I'm not an advertising " 
 
 "No. Certainly not. Guarantees 300,000 circula- 
 tion. Has 200,000. Needs 100,000 more. Needs 'em 
 immediately. Makes following generous offer to busi- 
 ness men. Free subscription for one year to first 100,- 
 000 subscribers. All you do is sign " 
 
 "I never" 
 
 " No. Certainly not. All you do is sign application. 
 No charge. Simply write name on slip of paper. Mere 
 formality. Subscription an item. In addition " 
 
 "But" 
 
 " Certainly. In addition free edition of Ralph Waldo 
 
 Substitute set 
 Holmes stories. 
 
 Emerson. These few pages mere sample. Splendid 
 paper, type, illustrations. Remarkable chance to in- 
 crease library without expense. Classic work. Maybe 
 you wonder " — — ■ 
 
 "I do." 
 
 " Naturally. Edition printed by subscription. 
 Limited. One thousand copies. Mistake in office. 
 Two thousand printed. Extra thousand can't be sold. 
 Unfair to original subscriber. Decide to give 'em 
 away. Increase circulation. Advance interests of lit- 
 erature. Splendid oppor " — • — 
 
 " I already have a set of Emerson." 
 
 " No. Certainly. Easily remedied 
 of Sir Conan Doyle. Wrote Sherlock 
 Classic." 
 
 "I'm afraid I don't" 
 
 " In addition this dictionary. Small, convenient dic- 
 tionary. Ornament to table. Useful to whole family. 
 Given to first two hundred " 
 
 " Anything else?" 
 
 " First two hundred subscribers. No expense. Three 
 cents " • 
 
 " Three cents?" 
 
 "Nominal. Not intended. Mistake in office. Every- 
 thing arranged to extend exceptional opportunity. But 
 forgot stenographers. Large office force necessary. 
 Work night and day. Three cents " 
 
 " Why three cents?" 
 
 " Nominal charge for office expenses. Foolish to 
 send bills for three cents — three cents a day, you under- 
 stand. Very small sum. Send card once a week with 
 place to insert quarter." 
 
 " Oh! Twenty-five cents." 
 
 " Insert quarter. Send cards for fourteen weeks. 
 All paid. Everything yours without charge. Sub- 
 scription to Promise us' s. Set of Emerson or Conan 
 Doyle. Ornamental dictionary. Now you see " 
 
 The business man looked sternly at his visitor. 
 
 " I don't see," he said in an unmistakable voice. 
 
 " No. Certainly," said the young man. " Remark- 
 
 able offer.' 
 next office. 
 
 And he disappeared rapidly toward the 
 
 DE.^D QUITE A WHILE. 
 Gataener — " It smokes like a 1902 model, doesn't itf 
 Coachman— " Ix. imeWs like an 1892." 
 
 Maid of Athens. 
 
 MAID of Athens, ere we part, 
 Never mind about my heart. 
 Give, oh, give me back the ring 
 And each fair, expensive thing 
 That I sent you, and each note 
 Which in those dead days I wrote — 
 They are what the jury says 
 Indicate the damages! 
 
 Mystified. 
 
 Mr. younghusband — " Don't you understand how tn 
 ao it, darling?" 
 
 Mrs. Younghusband — "Yes, 1 understand, all right; 
 but it says, ' first clean your chicken,' and I don't know 
 whether to use toilet or scouring soap."
 
 The Parting. 
 
 THE END OF SUMMER. 
 By EDWIN L. SABIN. 
 
 DEAR old crash suit, good-by, 
 good-by ! 
 There blows a hostile breeze. 
 I say it with a welling eye 
 
 And with an ailing sneeze. 
 Tho' close as you have clung to me 
 
 So close I'd cling to you, 
 A cold, cold world demands that we 
 Do bid a quick adieu. 
 
 •Tis 
 
 chosen times to 
 
 true you ve 
 shrink 
 Your duty, and expose 
 Some inside facts — the least, I 
 think, 
 My wristbands and my hose; 
 But then you might, I'm free to 
 say. 
 Have had a meaner fit. 
 And in a most ill-natured way 
 More seriously have split. 
 
 We've moved together 'mid the 
 
 throng; 
 We've shared in love and sport; 
 Old suit, although I've known you 
 
 long, 
 
 Now all too short, too short! 
 But when the frost its course has 
 run. 
 
 And warmth returns, we'll see 
 If you won't suit my little son 
 
 As once you suited me. 
 
 Fido Broke a Tooth. 
 
 A YOUTH slunk into the dentist's 
 office with a pained expres- 
 sion on his face. His hat was gone 
 and his smart attire showed evi- 
 dence of a struggle. 
 
 The dentist stepped forward 
 with a professional air. " What can I do for you?" 
 
 The youth glanced apprehensively at the door. " I — ■ 
 I wish to have a tooth removed." 
 
 " Very well, please be seated." 
 
 Shuffling over to the chair, the youth crawled into it 
 on his hands and knees. The dentist looked on in 
 amazement. 
 
 " Great heavens !" he cried, " what's the matter with 
 you? Are you crazy?" 
 
 " Well, you see, I went to call on Miss Neverhome, 
 and — and " 
 
 "And what?" 
 
 "Fido bit me." 
 
 Another Variety. 
 
 *t ^AN HE talk readily on his feet?" asks the chair- 
 ^^ man of the meeting of the delegate who wants 
 him to ask a committeeman to deliver an impromptu 
 address. 
 
 " I never knew him to do that," answers the dele- 
 gate; " but I'll tell you what I did see him do once. I 
 saw him address a bunch of deaf-mute voters, and he 
 gave them a rattling good talk on his hands." 
 
 COMFORTING. 
 
 Ner^oui man — "Now you're quite certain, old man, that you understand all about 
 sailing a boat ?" 
 
 Frknd — "Yes, to be sure, dear boy ! Had a full correspondence course in it out 
 in Stanton, Pa," 
 
 Without Honor in His Own Country. 
 
 i^ T\0 YOU know," said the famous man with a rem- 
 iniscent chuckle, " that it used to be the height 
 of my ambition to get my name in the county paper so 
 old Tommy Jones would see it. But, alas!" — and the 
 great man sighed — " now that I suppose old Tommy has 
 the fence rail I used to whittle, in the parlor as a relic, 
 I do not care at all for his praise." 
 
 " Do you know," said old Tommy Jones in a philo- 
 sophical mood, as he leaned on his plow handles talking 
 to Bill Dodd, " that I used to think them fellers we read 
 about in the papers was great men. But they ain't. 
 There's that Billings boy that used to hoe corn for me. 
 Now he's gittin' his name in the paper as often as any 
 of 'em. And shucks! He ain't nothin' but a common, 
 ordinary runt." 
 
 Evading the Issue. 
 
 Mrs. LushingtoH — "And there you were, at three 
 o'clock in the morning, hugging that cigar-store Indian." 
 
 Mr. Lnshington — " Surely, my dear, you are not 
 jealous?"
 
 A Problem Tale 
 
 By WILLIAM J. LAMPTON 
 
 44 »F YOU love me, Noah." 
 
 Jl It was Susan Spynster, speaking in a gently 
 pleading tone to N. Webster Wilkinson, an im- 
 passive person and erudite professor of orthography, 
 etymology, syntax, and prosody, to whom she had 
 plighted her troth ; and her plight was not the happiest, 
 owing to the professor's unstudied neglect of her for 
 those philological branches which he did study. 
 
 He looked up from the book in which he was pro- 
 foundly absorbed at the moment, and a perceptible 
 frown of protest against this unsolicited disturbance 
 flitted across his pale and corrugated brow. 
 
 " I beg your pardon," he said, gazing inquiringly at 
 her over his huge horn reading spectacles. 
 
 " If you love me, Noah," she repeated slowly, in the 
 same appealing tone. 
 
 He did not respond to this, but settled back in his 
 chair, wrapped in the thought generated by her words. 
 He was analyzing the phrase which she had used in ex- 
 pressing herself. 
 
 " If you love me — if you love me," he repeated men- 
 tally, as if to get a firmer grasp upon it. " Um let me 
 see! If the emphasis is on the first word, her remark 
 becomes, ' If you love me,' implying doubt of my affec- 
 tion. But there can be no doubt that I love her. There- 
 fore that is not the interpretation. Again, if the em- 
 phasis be on the second word, her remark becomes, ' If 
 you love me,' and I am confronted by the possibility 
 that there may be some other also who loves her. Is 
 
 Coach-dog — " Gee ! I never thought the business would ever come to this." 
 
 she false to me? Has my beloved Susan permitted a 
 rival to come between us? Never! Impossible! Ridic- 
 ulous! Again, if the emphasis be on the third word, 
 her remark becomes, ' If you love me,' and she implies 
 by that that my feeling for her is something other than 
 love. Is it thinkable that she can question the senti- 
 ment I cherish for her? No, no; and I shall not think 
 it. But there must be some meaning. Let me finish 
 the analysis. If the emphasis be on the final word, her 
 remark becomes, ' If you love me,' which is a direct im- 
 plication that I, her promised husband, may love an- 
 other. Perish the thought! Susin is the one woman 
 in the world for me, as she has been already reliably in- 
 formed — and yet this possible doubt of my sincerity — ■ 
 nay, my honesty! Shall I — but, no! I must not judge 
 hastily. I must know definitely ere I act." 
 
 The train of thought stopping at that point, the pro- 
 fessor got off and addressed himself to Miss Spynster. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Susan," he said, with consider- 
 able effort to be calm; " will you be kind enough to re- 
 peat your remark?" 
 
 " If you love me, Noah," she responded, with child- 
 like obedience, the professor listening with the most 
 alert attention. 
 
 Every word received an equal share of emphasis. 
 The professor was wholly unable to detect the slightest 
 shade of difference in the evenly balanced articulation. 
 He rested his massive brow upon the index finger of his 
 right hand for some time. 
 
 " I wonder what she 
 means," he muttered to 
 himself, and once more be- 
 came absorbed in the vol- 
 ume before him. 
 
 Susan, suppressed, sat 
 silent, sorrowful, super- 
 fluous. 
 
 A Hired Man. 
 
 Hewitt — " I am terribly 
 sorry for you, old boy. I 
 hear that a man ran away 
 with your wife the other 
 day." 
 
 Jeweft — " I am glad you 
 spoke of it. It makes me 
 think that I've got to send 
 him a check." 
 
 Sure Weather 
 Prophets. 
 
 Seaver — "I wish those 
 city folks would hurry up 
 and have another picnic." 
 
 Weaver — "By heck! if 
 they don't the country '11 all 
 dry up. We need rain."
 
 PRIDE GOETH." 
 
 1. Foxy Frank—" There'll be three cas.s of hysterics when they see my ridin' stunt. 
 Eastern girls always gits em.' 
 
 The Handicap. 
 
 By W1LLI.\M H HA.MCY. 
 
 t« AH, PROFESSOR, I a-n completely discouraged, 
 all out of heart." And the youth with the high 
 forehead slumped down on a hard-bottomed chair and 
 stared moodily out of the window. 
 
 " Discouraged? out of heart?" echoed the professor, 
 looking up with an incredulous, indignant frown on his 
 thin face. " Why, my dear sir, are you not aware that 
 ' slow and steady wins the race '?" 
 
 " I am," answered the young man sadly. 
 
 " Do you not know that all, practically all, great men 
 were plodders — men who had t:i fight their way inch by 
 inch? Do you not know that the notable successes in 
 life have been made by those who were naturally dull?" 
 
 "I do." 
 
 " It is the brilliant ones that fail — the ones to whom 
 learning comes easily. Where are the valedi'-torians of 
 other days? Statistics prove 
 that tho33 who wen; expected 
 to nnko th"ir doll:;r m-irk on 
 the earth never even made a 
 cent." 
 
 "I have hearrl that, "said 
 the young ma-i 'jlooniily. 
 
 " Then why b ■ tli-;rouraged, 
 why be downhearted? Why 
 not persevere aa did Demos- 
 the" 
 
 " Simply, professor," broke 
 in the young man, " because I 
 am one of the bright ones." 
 
 The professor's jaw drop- 
 ped, and he stared at the young 
 man over his glasses. Then a 
 sad smile of fellowship broke 
 over his face ard he came for- 
 waid aid offered his hand. 
 " 1, too, was one of the bright 
 
 ones," he said, with a sigh. 
 " That is why I have never 
 been president of this univer- 
 sity." 
 
 Had Made a Name 
 for Himself, 
 
 A WELL - KNOWN public 
 
 man, who was spending 
 
 the winter in Washington, had 
 
 for his next-door neighbors a 
 
 family with an aged negro in 
 
 their employ who might have 
 
 passed for the original of 
 
 Uncle Remus, in so far as his 
 
 personal appearance was con^ 
 
 cerned. The old man appeared 
 
 bright and early every morning 
 
 and swept off the walk, took 
 
 care of the ashes, and, in short, 
 
 was general chore manager of 
 
 the pren-.ises. 
 
 The newcomer, seeing the old fellow at work one 
 
 morning, accosted him in genial fashion, and received 
 
 th? usual gracious respon.=,c. 
 
 " What is your name?" he asked the darky. 
 " George Washin'ton, suh," said the negro. 
 "George Washington, eh? George Washington — 
 seems very familiar. Seems to me I've heard that name 
 before." 
 
 " Well, I guess maybe you all ought to have heerd it 
 before," said George. "I been workin' around here 
 most twenty-five yeahs." 
 
 An Hour or So Longer. 
 
 General manage) — -"The residents of Lonelyville 
 have petitioned us to reduce the train service at that 
 point. Rathsr odd." 
 
 Superintendent — " Not at all. They simply wish to 
 keep their servants longer." 
 
 2. But just then their auto appeared, which queered the finish.
 
 I - 
 
 i-J u 
 
 
 H 
 
 s °
 
 An Everlasting' Contention 
 
 The Strange Case of Katy-did vs. Katy-didn't 
 
 By JOHN KENDRICK BANGS 
 
 I WISH some sage or philosophic Cid, 
 With knowledge of the facts, or some invention. 
 Would tell us what it was that Katy did 
 
 That causes all this eventide contention. 
 It must have been some very awful thing, 
 
 Some sorry deed of wickedness immortal. 
 The way the dame's posterity doth sing 
 About it every eve around my portal. 
 
 At set of sun th' affirmatives begin. 
 
 Yet bring no evidence to help the trial. 
 Then t'other side for the defense puts in 
 
 A never-ending chorus of denial. 
 And so it goes. They keep it up all night, 
 
 All thoughts of rest or hope of verdict scorning, 
 With ne'er an end of any kind in sight 
 
 When routed from the forum by the morning. 
 
 It seems to be a foolish sort of row. 
 
 'Tis sad to see so many thousands nettled. 
 When if we knew the charge, perhaps, somehow, 
 
 It might be compromised or wholly settled. 
 At any rate, I'm full of charity, 
 
 And all the howling crowd can count upon it. 
 Until the charge and proof are brought to me, 
 
 I'll not believe that Katy really done it. 
 
 NATURE-FAKERS. 
 StAei — " Do you think the face makes the woman ?" 
 Carolyn — " Sometimes, when the woman makes the face."
 
 When I was just a litUe boy, 
 
 As active as a cat, 
 The word that always blocked my joy 
 
 Was, "DON'T do that!" 
 
 Old Sleuth Up to Date 
 
 By GORTON CARRUTH 
 
 IJIGHT at the mouth of the tunnel our hero lay, 
 *^ tightly bound across the track. A few yards up 
 the hillside was his sweetheart, lashed to a tree. Near 
 by stood the villain Tarbox, arms folded, a diabolical 
 grin on his face, as he invited the helpless girl to see 
 the destruction of her lover. What could save him? 
 Already there echoed from the tunnel the roar of the 
 express train as it thundered down the mountain slope 
 toward its victim. 
 
 " Keep up your courage, dear," said the doomed man 
 calmly. " Providence will yet provide an escape from 
 that scoundrel's toils, never fear." 
 
 ****** 
 
 "Let's see," murmured the great author abstract- 
 edly, as he paused a moment in his dictation. " How's 
 she going to get him out of that fix? She can't rush 
 wildly into the tunnel and flag the train with a sulphur 
 match, because she's tied. She can't influence the vil- 
 lain, because his is a heart of stone. The engineer 
 couldn't hear her piercing shriek, because the train is 
 in a tunnel. Her faithful hound couldn't untie him. 
 She — Oh, I have it! Of course," and he resumed his 
 
 dictation. 
 
 ****** 
 
 Just as the headlight of the approaching train twin- 
 kled into view far up the subterranean passage, a sud- 
 den, fierce gust of wind blew down the mountain, struck 
 our heroine's hat, which had been leaning against a tree, 
 and trundled it across the open space into the cavernous 
 mouth of the tunnel. A moment later was heard a long, 
 harsh, grating screech, and the locomotive, its wheels 
 
 tangled and locked in the mammoth ruins Jl the hat, 
 came to a standstill with its cow-catcher jast touching 
 our hero's hair. Men descended from the ca'o and re- 
 leased him and the girl, while the wretch Tarbox dashed 
 away into the night, shaking his clenched fists in bitter 
 anger at the sky. 
 
 "Thank God!" gasped our heroine wildly, as she 
 sank fainting into her lover's arms. "Thank God that 
 I wore my Merry Widow instead of the usual wild rose!" 
 
 An Encouraging Conversation. 
 
 t< IJOW'S business?" I asked of the astronomical 
 faker on Broadway. 
 
 " Looking up," he answered. 
 
 " Where's the big cop who used to be here?" I con- 
 tinued. 
 
 " Taking arrest," replied the faker. 
 
 " What do you do in the daytime before the stars 
 come out?" I asked. 
 
 " Same as I do at night," he answered. 
 
 " What's that?" I queried. 
 
 " The public," he replied. 
 
 " Well, good-by," I said. " I was going to ask you 
 to have a glass of beer, but I see you're filled to the 
 brim with tea, and beer doesn't go well with" 
 
 "Me? Full of tea?" he queried. 
 
 " Yes — repartee," said 1. 
 
 And that is why we no longer speak as we pass by. 
 
 OTHING succeeds like success, unless some one 
 dies and leaves it to you. 
 
 N
 
 Kinetic Potentialities. 
 
 By GRAHAM HAWLEY. 
 
 OH, IGNORANT people, who look at a baby 
 As though it was senseless and imbecile maybe, 
 Who smirk with your silly, superior air. 
 Who gaze, grin and giggle, or stupidly stare, 
 Has it ever occurred to you — dolts that you are — 
 That a child may surpass both its pa and its ma? 
 
 Why, it may be the tot that you look on with scorn 
 
 Will outrival the greatest diplomatist born. 
 
 Invent some new marvel, produce a new plant, 
 
 Or philosophize even more deeply than Kant. 
 
 You idiots utter! Who knows but it may 
 
 Grow in power or wealth and command you some day. 
 
 Perchance it's a Goethe, a Wagner, a Titian, 
 
 A Caesar, a Taft (in a pocket edition), 
 
 A Louis Sixteenth, Dumas, Vergil, or Shelley, 
 
 A Homer, a Bryan, a Marie Corelli, 
 
 A Morgan, a Raphael, a Henry Navarre, 
 
 An Elizabeth, Newton or Theodore R. 
 
 Then worship the baby — ay, fall down before him — 
 Revere him, respect him, and mutely adore him. 
 Who knows to what heights he may some time aspire? 
 Pope, president, admiral — ay, and still higher. 
 He might even become, were the fates not adverse. 
 Like the gifted young scribe of this masterful verse! 
 
 Cutting OK Supplies. 
 
 Neighbo) — "I want to ask if you'd mind not using 
 that worm exterminator you've bought for your garden." 
 
 Suburbanite — " And why not, pray?" 
 
 Neighboi — " Well, you see, I'm planning to keep 
 chickens." 
 
 He Came Home. 
 
 He^" My dear, if I'm not home at ten, don't wait for 
 me." 
 She— "Ho; I'll go for you." 
 
 Rules for a Man Who Is Contemplating 
 Matrimony. 
 
 PACTS TO ASCERTAIN WHEN MEETING AN AT- 
 TRACTIVE YOUNG WOMAN WITH WHOM 
 YOU MAY FALL IN LOVE. 
 
 1 EARN whether she Is selfish. You can tell this in 
 ^* three ways — by the manner in which she listens to 
 what you say, by the way she accepts what you do for 
 her, and by the difference between the way she treats 
 you and the way she treats others. 
 
 Is she fickle? If she talks about light things she 
 isn't. Deep, she is. 
 
 Is she extravagant? Study the way in which she 
 protests against your spending money on her and always 
 arranges matters so that you can't help but do it. 
 
 Is she a bad housekeeper? Watch the way she 
 dresses. If she is spic and span she isn't. If she isn't 
 then she is. 
 
 THE SOLUTION. 
 
 When you have satisfied your mind that she is a'll of 
 these things marry her at once, if you can get her, for 
 the following reasons: 
 
 First, because if she really loves you she will change. 
 
 Second, because if you love her it will be so much 
 more interesting. 
 
 Third, because you are probably mistaken about her, 
 anyway. 
 
 A Great Care. 
 
 Celia — " Her hair turned perfectly white in one 
 night from trouble." 
 
 Delia — "Really? What was the nature of the trou- 
 ble?" 
 
 Celia—" Chemical." 
 
 2. But by the time I've got it pat 
 
 My childhood days are through, 
 And now the word I'm staring at 
 is Do ! Do ! Do !
 
 QUOTATION FROM SHAKESPEARE. 
 " Farewell ! Thou art too dear for my possession." 
 
 The Sentimental Song as It Ought To Be 
 
 By JAMES P. ROME 
 
 ONCE again we are surrounded by the sentimental 
 love song. It is a very pleasing article — some- 
 times. But it hasn't got the quarter of a grain 
 of truth in it — no, nor even the tenth of a grain of 
 truth. This is the way it goes: In the first stanza a 
 big, handsome hero journeys to the country, meets a 
 pretty little milkmaid, and falls in love with her. 
 Then in the chorus he departs, promising to return when 
 the cucumber is a pickle, or at some other such happy 
 time. Along about the second stanza he comes back, 
 only to find that the little milkmaid (instead of the cow, 
 perhaps) has kicked the bucket. He visits her grave, 
 sheds a tear, and — that is all! Very, very pretty, no 
 doubt; but, as we said before, it's not true. In order 
 to tear away the veil of romance and display the true 
 facts in the case, we have prepared a genuine country 
 ballad — as it ought to be. It was prepared very care- 
 fully. It is called, " When the Wind Sighs through the 
 Whiskers of the Corns." Music by the Mowing 
 Machine; words from the Dictionary. This is it: 
 
 Beneath a weeping-willow tree 
 
 There stood a city lad ; 
 His head and hands were all bound upj 
 
 His face was pale and sad. 
 
 For he had come to the country three days ago to get a 
 breath of the sweet, violet-laden air, which he was 
 told would be floating all over the place in the 
 greatest of plenty. 
 
 But instead of that he found the air full of grass seed, 
 and contracted hay fever; and then he fell from the 
 farmhouse roof and landed in a hive of bees, which 
 stung him badly and chased him into the horns of a 
 nasF'by cow. 
 17 
 
 And now, after the village doctor had eased his blistered 
 face and broken arms, he stood under the willow tree, 
 waiting for the outgoing train which left at ten- 
 eighteen or twenty. 
 
 And by his side stood the little country girl whom he 
 had come so many weary miles to see, and who softly 
 cried as he put the tips of his swollen fingers on her 
 shoulders and made this heart-rending and intensely 
 solemn vow : 
 
 When they change the architecture of the country; 
 When they use a brand of cows that have no horns; 
 
 When the bees have lost their art, 
 
 I'll return to you, sweetheart, 
 When the wind sighs through the whiskers of the corns. 
 
 Cornered. 
 
 Pa — " Edith, how often do you practice on the piano 
 when I'm away?" 
 
 Edith — " Every day, pa." 
 
 Pa — " How long did you practice yesterday?" 
 
 Edith—" Four hours." 
 
 Pa— "And to-day?" 
 
 Eldith — " About the same." 
 
 Pa — " Well, I'm glad to hear you're so regular. 
 The next time you practice, however, be sure to unlock 
 the piano. I locked it last week, and I've been carrying 
 the key in my pocket ever since. Here it is !" 
 
 Summer boarder — " You wrote me that mosquitoes 
 were nowhere in this neighborhood." 
 
 Farmer — " I reek'n there's some mistake, pardner. 
 I must o' writ that mosquitoes were now here in th« 
 neighborhood."
 
 The Temagami Brand 
 
 By ELLIOTT FLOWER 
 
 UST why a man who has a tempo- 
 rary interest in a private car, plen- 
 tifully stocked with everything that 
 the most exacting thirst could 
 crave, should want to buy squirrel 
 whiskey ia difficult to understand, 
 but Corey did it. He explained 
 afterward that he merely wished to 
 sample the Temagami brand. He 
 did not have to explain that he 
 found it strong. Several Indian 
 guides, to whom he had played fairy godfather by 
 dispensing prohibited fire water, showed their grati- 
 tude by enthusiastically boosting him on the wrong 
 train, and shortly thereafter the complications began. 
 
 The party had just come out of the woods, after a 
 week of fishing. They had brushed up a little at the inn, 
 where they had spent the previous night, but the 
 starched shirt and the high collar awaited them at the 
 car. With almost feverish haste they attired them- 
 selves in the best they had with them, disposed of the 
 highballs the porter thoughtfully provided, and sauntered 
 out to reduce the visible supply of mocassins, baskets, 
 and other samples of Indian handiwork. 
 
 Corey, however, had other ambitions. The highball 
 that the porter provided was the highball of civilization, 
 and Corey was of the opinion that the trip would not be 
 a complete success unless he sampled the drink of the 
 Temagami Forest Reserve, which, being contraband, is 
 
 of the nature of a high explosive. He was encouraged 
 in this laudable purpose by the thirsty look of one of the 
 guides. The Indian, having just been paid for his serv- 
 ices, probably had more money than Corey, but he was 
 not averse to letting the white man buy as much as he 
 would- — in fact, being of an accommodating disposition, 
 he no sooner discovered what was desired than he went 
 to the trouble of showing just where it could be pur- 
 chased. Then he further showed his obliging nature by 
 providing excuses for additional libations. 
 
 " My brother," he grunted, " him thirsty." 
 
 " Bring him in," said Corey generously. 
 
 So there was another drink, after which the guide 
 remembered that he had a thirsty cousin. Corey de- 
 clared later that this guide was related to every Indian 
 within a mile of Temagami station. Anyhow, he pro- 
 duced an amazing number of relations, one at a time, 
 and the festivities continued until a locomotive whistled, 
 which reminded Corey that the private car was to be 
 picked up by the three-twenty train south. Having lost 
 track of time in the excitement of the proceedings, he 
 now led the friendly red men in a rapid advance on the 
 depot, and was there assisted to the rear platform of the 
 twelve-ten train north, where he stood and blew kisses 
 to the dark-brown bunch until a curve shut them from 
 view. 
 
 Meanwhile, the other members of the party had re- 
 duced their cash surplus by the purchase of souvenirs 
 for the friends at home, and now returned to the car for 
 
 QUOITS A LA SOLITAIRE. 
 An elf in ruff and fuzzy cloak sat deep within the brake, 
 A-blowing rings of woolly smoke upon a wooden stake.
 
 luncheon. Small, otherwise known as High Henry be- 
 cause his name was such a libel on his perpendicular 
 proportions, was the first to note the absence of Corey. 
 
 " Has anybody seen him?" he asked. 
 
 Douglas, whose good fortune in holding four of a 
 kind on a certain notable occasion in camp had given 
 him the name of the Timber Wolf, recalled having seen 
 him in earnest and almost affectionate conversation with 
 an Indian an hour or so before. 
 
 "Squirrel whiskey," announced Cy Moose, and the 
 fact that this man had acquired his temporary name by 
 telling a most extraordinary tale of the friendly rela- 
 tions he had established with a certain moose gave great 
 weight to his views on everything in the Temagami dis- 
 trict. It was decided, therefore, that squirrel whiskey 
 must be the explanation. " In its ability to elevate a 
 man quickly," added Cy Moose, " it can give points to 
 a balloon." 
 
 "I infer," commented Kisman, "that you speak 
 from experience." 
 
 This was held to be irrelevant, and Nick Carter was 
 ordered to make such an investigation as only a de- 
 tective of that inspiring name could make. He reported 
 
 Curly locks, curly locks, 
 
 Wilt thou be mine ? 
 Yes ; this is bargain day- 
 
 WHEN CAT MEETS CAT. 
 Mrs. Diggs — " I hear you have been talking about me.'' 
 Mrs. Cutting — " Madam, you flatter yourself." 
 
 7^Tei?iEfJ.\ 
 
 promptly that a twelve-foot trail was none too wide for 
 the Indians he saw, and that they all declared the white 
 man had caught his train. 
 
 " The twelve-ten train north!" exclaimed Carton, the 
 pilot of the party. " We must head him off." 
 
 At this point the Pilot took entire charge, ignoring 
 the brilliant suggestion that the whole party start in 
 pursuit on a handcar, and arrangements were made to 
 get a telegram to the conductor at Rib Lake, the first 
 stop. The message was prepared with great care, of 
 course. It was necessary that the conductor should be 
 able to identify the wanderer, and High Henry was sure 
 he could write a message that would make identification 
 easy; but Cy Moose argued that it would be a breach of 
 etiquette to say anything about the squirrel whiskey. 
 The Pilot was of the same opinion, and the telegram he 
 wrote merely stated that the erring one had taken the 
 Cobalt train by mistake, and asked the conductor to 
 ship him back when they passed the down train at 
 Latchford. It was a masterly effort to avoid distress- 
 ing detail. But the conductor was a man of worldly 
 wisdom, and he understood. From Rib Lake he sent 
 this reply: 
 
 " Twelve men in that condition on train. Will try 
 to pick out yours between here and Latchford." 
 
 There was nothing very reassuring in this, but the 
 porter thoughtfully provided that which enabled the 
 party to await the outcome with reasonable patience. 
 
 " He'll come back on the train that picks us up," 
 remarked the Pilot.
 
 "That," said the Timber Wolf, " simplifies matters 
 greatly. He won't have to get off the train." 
 
 " If he comes back," added Kisman solemnly. "I 
 think he wants to be left, and I don't blame him. There 
 were too many of us in camp to get the most artistic 
 results." 
 
 " What do you mean?" asked the Pilot. 
 " Why, it's the man who fishes alone who catches the 
 biggest fish-story," explained Kisman. "A fellow is 
 handicapped when there are people on hand to demand 
 proof. If he could lay over here another twenty-four 
 hours he'd have us all beaten." 
 
 Some of those who had made exceptional records 
 with the rod and reel, not counting " the big ones that 
 got away," began to look worried, but the Pilot came 
 to the rescue. " That conductor will get him," he de- 
 clared. " No need to worry ; he'll be down on the three- 
 twenty." 
 
 And justification of his faith in 
 
 the conductor soon came in the 
 
 shape of the following telegram 
 
 from Latchford : 
 
 "Shipped your man back on 
 
 No. 3." 
 
 All breathed easier after the re- 
 ceipt of this message. They might 
 
 joke about Corey's mistake — they 
 
 would joke about anything — but 
 
 the possibility of having to leave 
 
 a member of the party behind had 
 
 been decidedly worrying. Now, 
 
 however, they could give their at- 
 tention to devising a suitable wel- 
 come for the stray. A man may 
 
 not do what Corey did and escape 
 
 the penalty. It was decided, there- 
 fore, that the whole party should 
 
 line up on the station platform and 
 
 give the Wah-sak-si-na-gama yell 
 
 when the train came in, after which 
 
 a guard of three should take 
 
 charge of the victim and make 
 
 ostentatious provision to prevent 
 
 another escape. Mr. Pickwick, so- 
 called because of his resemblance 
 
 to that famous character, tried to 
 
 persuade the others that this would 
 
 be unkind, but, failing, accepted 
 
 the situation in good part and 
 
 smiled with benign tolerance on 
 
 their enthusiastic preparations. 
 The guard boarded the train as 
 
 it pulled in and the others drew 
 
 up in line and gave the yell. 
 
 There was some regret that the In- 
 
 -lian delegation was not on hand 
 
 to add to the enthusiasm, but they 
 
 really were not needed. The Wah- 
 sak-si-na-gama yell, ending with 
 
 something that probably resembled 
 
 the cry of a moose in great agony. 
 
 brought people on the run from all directions; indeed, 
 it did everything except bring Corey. Other passen- 
 gers rushed to the windows, but the beaming face of 
 the man who sampled the Temagami brand was sought 
 in vain. One of the Corey guards appeared for a mo- 
 ment, gesticulating frantically, and then the train 
 moved down to a switch with the evident purpose of 
 picking up the private car. 
 
 "It's all right," announced Mr. Pickwick, allowing 
 his genial and confident smile to circle the group; 
 "they're trying to signal us that they will keep him 
 aboard until our car is coupled on. It's very wise, I 
 think." 
 
 They hurried to the car, and the train presently 
 backed up to it. The three Corey guards were then 
 on the back platform having a warm argument with a 
 brakeman, while a stranger leaned wearily against 
 
 She- 
 
 A NATURAL INQUIRY. 
 " The man I marry must be handsome, witty, cultivated, courteous, kindly. 
 
 considerate, and, above all, of high moral character." 
 
 He — " In view of the fact that this is leap year, I find myself constrained to uk 
 yon if I am to regard your words in the light of a proposal ?''
 
 *he railing. Old Pomposs (an abbreviation for Old 
 Pomposity) seemed to be carrying the brunt of the 
 argument. 
 
 "This," the waiting party heard Old Pomposs say, 
 " is a great mistake. I guess you don't know who we 
 are." 
 
 " No," retorted the brakeman, " and I don't give a 
 hoot. You telegraphed for a drunk, and here he is." 
 
 "I don't care to bandy words with you," said Old 
 Pomposs severely. "He's not one of our party." 
 
 "These are the men who sent for you," explained 
 the brakeman, now busy connecting the air-brakes. 
 " They want you on their car." The stranger turned to 
 the car with every evidence of approval, while Old 
 Pomposs turned to the brakeman with every evidence of 
 disapproval. " You can't refuse goods that you ordered 
 shipped — not on this road," the brakeman added de- 
 fensively. " You sent for him, and you got him." 
 
 "Looks good to me," commented the stranger. 
 "It's better'n a mere prospect at Cobalt." He began 
 
 Hdfal^.Tntyt 
 
 SUCH A GOOD BOY. 
 Willie — " Huh ! you always read about {jood little boys. Anyway, I never make any 
 noise running down-stairs like other fellows." 
 Sijter — " Pooh ! That isn't true." 
 Willie — " It is so. I always slide down the banister." 
 
 "Can't help that," declared the brakeman; "my 
 orders is to deliver him to you, and that settles it. I 
 don't see what you're kickin' about, anyhow. I'll bet 
 I'm givin' you a better drunk than the one you lost. 
 This one's a peach." 
 
 Just then the train bumped the waiting car, and the 
 stranger was jarred into a sudden interest in the pro- 
 ceedings. 
 
 "What's doin'?" he inquired, as he steadied him- 
 self by gripping the railing with both hands. 
 
 aiming himself for the private car. While his articula- 
 tion was fairly good, his legs were so unsteady that he 
 had to head himself in the right direction with great 
 care before abandoning his hold on the railing. Old 
 Pomposs, divining his intention, barred the way; there- 
 upon the stranger merrily prodded him in the most in- 
 flated spot. "That's all right, old cock!" he said, as 
 Old Pomposs doubled up suddenly; " no harm done, only 
 don't bother me. " Then, his progress being unimpeded, 
 he entered the car and sank contentedly into a seat.
 
 a-rvo LAMGC. 
 
 THE DOOR. 
 
 "All I need is an opening, sir." 
 
 "What's the matter with the one you just came through ?" 
 
 The rest of the party, heretofore watching from the 
 side lines, now hastily scrambled to the platform and 
 gave Old Pomposs first aid to the injured, after which 
 they advanced on the intruder in a body. The porter 
 was then arguing with him. 
 
 " This is a private car," said the porter. 
 
 " Sure !" returned the stranger. " What you got to 
 drink?" 
 
 INITIALS. 
 
 Some follcs lilce initials on rings. 
 Ties, suit cases — even shoe-strings ; 
 
 But should your full name 
 
 Be Anton Saul Sayme, 
 You'd not care for initials on things. 
 
 "There's a private party aboard," explained the 
 porter. 
 
 "That's me!" said the stranger. "Bring me a 
 Scotch highball." 
 
 " You don't belong," argued the porter. 
 
 " Who says so?" demanded the stranger. " Wasn't 
 I put here by the road? Ain't this a Temiskaming and 
 Northern Ontario car, an' didn't" 
 
 "No, it ain't," interrupted the porter. "It's 9 
 Grand Trunk car." 
 
 " No matter," said the stranger in an offhand way. 
 " I gotflome road's word for it that this is mine." 
 
 The Pilot signaled the porter to come away, and 
 there was a hasty consultation as to the best method of 
 procedure High Henry thought Mr. Pickwick, who 
 combined dignity with urbanity, was the man to make 
 the stranger see the error of his ways; Cy Moose 
 thought the Pilot was the man for the job; Kisman sug- 
 gested that it would be a simple matter for the Timber 
 Wolf to deal him a few hands at poker that would be 
 discouraging, and the matter was still unsettled when 
 the train pulled out. That brought the accommodating 
 Mr. Pickwick to the front, ever ready to sacrifice him- 
 self for the general welfare. 
 
 "Gentlemen," he said, "this unfortunate tangle 
 must be straightened out before we reach the next sta- 
 tion, so that we may get our unwelcome guest again 
 headed in the direction of Cobalt. As no one else cares 
 to make the necessary explanation, I will talk to him." 
 Saying this, Mr. Pickwick advanced fearlessly and 
 8*ated himself beside the stranger.
 
 SHARP FOLK. 
 
 ' What set do the Joneses go in ?'' 
 
 'The carving set, I should say, judging by the way they knife each other.' 
 
 "Where's that Scotch highball?" was the question 
 that greeted him. 
 
 "My friend," said Mr. Pickwick affably, ignoring 
 the query, " there has been a mistake " 
 
 "That's all right," interrupted the stranger; "I 
 ain't kickin'. I only had a prospect at Cobalt, and I'd 
 trade it for a line of Scotch highballs from here to 
 Toronto, any day. You got Scotch on the car, ain't you?" 
 
 "You don't understand," explained Mr. Pickwick. 
 " This is a private car, and we shall have to drop you at 
 the next stop." 
 
 " Not me! " said the stranger. 
 
 " Yes, you," insisted Mr. Pickwick firmly. 
 
 " Not me!" repeated the stranger. " You can't drop 
 me." 
 
 " Why not?" asked Mr. Pickwick in surprise. 
 
 "I'm the package you ordered," was the confident 
 reply. " I didn't want to come." 
 
 " But it was a mistake," urged Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 "That ain't my fault, is it?" retorted the stranger. 
 " You don't deny you telegraphed for me, do you?" 
 
 " Not for you," insisted Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Well, I was delivered on your order," declared the 
 stranger, " an' you got to take the responsibility. Why, 
 look at it sensible: here was me, sleeping peaceful, an' 
 the conductor wakes me up. ' You're wanted back at 
 Temagami,' says he. 'Not me,' says I. 'You come 
 from there, didn't you?' says he. ' That was my last 
 stop,' says I. 'Well, there's a private-car party back 
 there that wants you,' says he. ' That's a nice dream,' 
 says I. 'They're telegraphin' for you,' says he, 'an' 
 you got to go.' I don't have any say about it at all ; he 
 turns me over to the brakeman on the down train, an' 
 
 I'm delivered to you. Now, you don't think I'm going 
 to be turned down like a bale of damaged goods, do you? 
 You sent for me, an' you got to look out for me. 
 Where's that porter?" 
 
 Mr. Pickwick returned thoughtfully to the party at 
 the table in the center of the car. 
 
 " Gentlemen," he reported, " I fear this stranger has 
 us at a disadvantage. He was ruthlessly torn from his 
 business and shipped back to us on our telegraphic 
 order. More than that, as a result of our action he is 
 now being rapidly carried away from his business inter- 
 ests, and, as he truthfully points out, the fact that a re- 
 grettable error was made is no fault of his. While we 
 cannot be held to blame for the misguided zeal of the 
 conductor, I cannot help thinking that some moral re- 
 sponsibility attaches to us. What are we going to do 
 about it?" 
 
 This point of view was so reasonable, and the ques- 
 tion so troublesome, that deep gloom settled on the 
 whole party, and the silence was broken only when the 
 stranger discovered the bell-button and pressed it long 
 and earnestly in the hope of getting that delayed high- 
 ball. ThenRapid-Fire Palmer added to the gloom by mak- 
 ing some remarks that, when untangled, were found to 
 refer to the depressing fact that Corey was still missing. 
 
 " I'll telegraph from Redwater to every station be- 
 tween Temagami and Cobalt," announced the Pilot. 
 " We must locate him and see that he gets the next 
 train south." 
 
 "Without meeting any more Indians," added Cy 
 Moose. 
 
 "Meanwhile," suggested Mr. Pickwick, "what are 
 we going to do about our inebriated guest?"
 
 
 A FAIR ARGUMENT. 
 
 Fatherly eler/(yman (surprising young parishioner in curl-papers) — " Why don't you 
 leave your hair as it was meant to be, my child ? If Nature had wanted your hair to curl 
 she would have curled it for you." 
 
 Offended younq lady — •" When I was a little girl she did, sir ; but I suppose she now 
 thinks I am quite old enough to do it for myself." 
 
 " Perhaps he might consent to leave us for a con- 
 sideration," ventured Kisman. "We might ask his 
 terms." 
 
 There being no overwhelming desire for the stranger's 
 company to Toronto, it was decided to give this plan a 
 trial ; and Mr. Pickwick, supported by his friends in this 
 desperate emergency, returned to the place where the 
 thirsty one was still industriously pressing the bell- 
 button. 
 
 "My friend," explained Mr. Pickwick, "while we 
 disclaim any direct responsibility, we realize that our 
 effort to reclaim an erring member of our party has put 
 you to considerable inconvenience, and we " 
 
 " What's the matter with the porter?" interrupted 
 the stranger. 
 
 " As you are not a member of the party " 
 
 " I ain't!" exclaimed the stranger. " Why ain't I? 
 Didn't you send for me?" 
 
 " Oh, he's got us!" groaned Cy Moose. 
 
 "Let us pass that," said Mr. Pickwick, with quiet 
 dignity. " We are now merely anxious to see if we 
 cannot reach some amicable agreement that will restore 
 the status quo." 
 
 " What's that?" asked the stranger. 
 
 "The condition of affairs that existed before you 
 joined us," explained Mr. Pickwick. 
 
 " Oh, you want me to get out!" 
 
 " We fear your business will suffer during your 
 absence." 
 
 "Back to the mine for you!" put in High Henry, 
 who feared the diplomatic language of Mr. Pickwick 
 did not make the situation clear. " How much do you 
 want?" 
 
 The magic of these words brought a smile of com- 
 prehension to the face of the stranger. " You pulled 
 me away from my mine," he said. 
 
 " It was due to an unfortunate misunderstanding," 
 Mr. Pickwick maintained; "but it is unquestionably
 
 A DRAWING ROOM. 
 
 true that we are the indirect cause of your present pre- 
 dicament, and we are ready to make suitable repara- 
 tion." 
 
 "All right, " agreed the stranger. "I'll trade the 
 mine for the car, and you go back at the next stop." 
 
 The Pilot gasped, and there were some indications of 
 heart failure by others of the party. 
 
 " This suits me," added the stranger. " This is the 
 real thing, and the mine's only a prospect. You may 
 win big, but you ain't sure of anything. How about it?" 
 
 Mr. Pickwick, still serene, explained courteously that 
 the members of the party, having business or pro- 
 fessional interests at home, were quite unable to make 
 any such sudden change of plan. 
 
 " Guess again!" High Henry put in. " You hit the 
 wrong combination that time." 
 
 " This looks pretty good to me," persisted the stran- 
 ger; "only the service is bum. I'll bet I've rung for 
 that highball fifty times." Having thus recalled him- 
 self to the particular business of the moment, he began 
 ringing again. 
 
 Old Pomposs here suggested that the stranger over- 
 looked the rather important fact that he was neither the 
 owner nor the lessee of the car ; whereupon the stranger, 
 remembering his previous encounter with Old Pomposs, 
 made a jab at the middle button of the latter's vest 
 that induced a precipitate retreat. 
 
 " It ain't my fault," the stranger argued, when his 
 victim had backed out of range. " I made a fair offer 
 for it. You got me here, and now it's up to you to do 
 something besides worry me to death. I'll bet I wouldn't 
 treat you so mean if you was on my car." 
 
 "I think," said High Henry, "he's entitled to his 
 drink." 
 
 "Judging from appearances," objected Mr. Pick- 
 wick, " I think he's had it." 
 
 "All fixed!" cried the stranger, in sudden triumph. 
 " I got it now." 
 
 The members of the party, much relieved, gathered 
 closer, and he was urged to explain. 
 
 " You buy the mine," he said, " and I'll hire anoth- 
 er car — What's the matter?" For Mr. Pickwick, 
 
 " You don't seem to realize I'm delicate, 
 and this housework is simply using me up. 
 It will kill me." 
 
 IT ALL DEPENDS. 
 
 But to prepare and do all the cooking to entertain a lot of lady 
 friends about twice a week is mere pleasure.
 
 LITTLE DANGER. 
 
 'Squire Jones had anuddah valuable hoss stole las' night." 
 
 ' Fo' de Ian'! ef dat sort ob t'ing gwine ter keep up, hit's time I's gittin' a new lock on mah bahn do'.' 
 
 discouraged and disgusted, was leading his friends aside 
 for another conference. " I got to sell the mine or I 
 can't afford a car. It looks to me like you fellows want 
 all the best of it." 
 
 This resentful criticism was ignored, and he was left 
 to his own devices while new plans were discussed. Cy 
 Moose was of the opinion that the whole affair had now 
 resolved itself into a job for High Henry, to which the 
 latter entered prompt and vigorous objection. " But at 
 that," he added, " I could not make a worse failure of it 
 than those who have already tried." Mr. Pickwick 
 thought he detected a slur in this, so, by way of revenge, 
 he came to the support of Cy Moose. "I should judge," 
 said he, with calm dignity, " that there is a natural bond 
 of sympathy between High Henry and the inebriated 
 stranger that would make it easy for them to understand 
 each other and reach a satisfactory agreement, and 
 I move that our elongated companion be appointed a 
 committee of one to solve the problem that now con- 
 fronts us." Cy Moose and the Timber Wolf seconded 
 the motion, the Pilot put it, and High Henry was elected 
 before he had time to protest. 
 
 The look that the committee gave the others was 
 disquieting, but he accepted the commission, declaring 
 that a man of the world might understand wayward 
 strangers without having anything in common with 
 them. Two minutes later he was in animated conversa- 
 tion with the unwelcome guest, and in less than five 
 minutes his voice was raised in a vociferous cry to the 
 porter to bring that long-sought highball and another 
 with it. 
 
 "This won't do!" protested Mr. Pickwick, much 
 worried. " We can't get rid of him that way." 
 
 " The committee is trying to get even with us," de- 
 clared Kisman. " I'll bet he sells him the car." 
 
 Several advanced, with a view to bringing High 
 Henry to a conception of his error; but he waved them 
 away, and, at a nod from the Pilot, the highballs were 
 
 brought. Then two more were ordered. Cy Moose now 
 voiced the general protest, to which High Henry re- 
 sponded, " We're all right; let us alone." 
 
 " But this is no joke," argued Cy Moose. 
 
 "You bet it isn't!" replied High Henry; and he 
 turned to the stranger with a facetious remark that 
 brought roars of laughter from that individual. They 
 were chums already, and, at the earnest solicitation of 
 High Henry, the stranger sang a sentimental ballad in a 
 way that made the windows rattle. 
 
 A "PUG'S" LAMENT. 
 How sad to me heart are de dreams uv me " pug years," 
 
 When past recollection presents dem to view ; 
 De" upper, "de "left-hook," " de knock-out," de loud cheers, 
 
 An' after each battle de " put-up job," too. 
 De long-reachin' arm an' de guy wot behind it 
 
 Was hittin' me swipes in de ribs wid his paw, 
 He poked me a beauty — ah, still I remind it ! — 
 
 It makin' me wisht to be home wid me "maw.'' 
 Dose big, heavy mittens, dose iron-stuffed mittens, 
 
 Dose fast-flyin' mittens dat pounded me jaw.
 
 The others were now as anxious to recall High 
 Henry's commission as they had been to give it to him, 
 but there was no satisfactory way of doing it; he was 
 in complete control of the situation. The Pilot even 
 ruled that it would be rank discourtesy to ignore his 
 orders for drinks. Still, this matter of courtesy was 
 pretty severely tested when he ordered a full bottle of 
 Scotch. The Pilot managed to retain his characteristic 
 British calmness, but the others were becoming nervous 
 and excited. 
 
 High Henry presented the bottle to the stranger, and 
 the stranger shook him warmly by the hand, insisting 
 that he was the finest gentleman he ever had met. Then, 
 as the train drew into Redwater, the stranger again fer- 
 vently wrung High Henry's hand, after which he per- 
 mitted the porter to assist him to the platform. 
 
 " How did you do it?" was the general query. 
 
 "Easy enough," answered High Henry, with par- 
 donable pride. ''I bought him off with a bottle of 
 Scotch, and he was even willing to throw in the mine. 
 But I wouldn't take it." 
 
 " Such wisdom!" exclaimed Cy Moose. 
 
 " I was only afraid," said High Henry, " that he'd 
 force the mine on me." 
 
 " It was a narrow escape," declared the Pilot. " Now 
 we must see what we can do about Corey." 
 
 Just then Nick Carter, the mysterious, who had been 
 following a thinking-machine clew of his own, appeared 
 at the door of the car ahead. 
 
 " S-sh!" said Nick Carter. " Corey is asleep in the 
 smoker. He shipped himself back from Rib Lake, but 
 forgot to deliver himself to us at Temagami." 
 
 High Henry and Nick Carter each received a vote of 
 thanks, and the incident was closed. 
 
 Why He Was Bad. 
 
 By L. S. WAiERHOUSE. 
 
 WHEN I was a lad I wasn't so bad 
 But what I could have been worse; 
 But if I'd been good the dear public would 
 Just now be deprived of this verse. 
 
 You savey by this — good children we miss — 
 They all kick the bucket, I'm told; 
 
 But I as a kid did just as I did 
 Because I desired to grow old. 
 
 I couldn't just see what good 'twas to me 
 
 To turn up my toes to the sod. 
 So I did, it is true, what most all bad boys do 
 
 If they don't want to hustle to God. 
 
 I sassed my dear ma and I cussed dear papa 
 And I punched sister Jane in the eye; 
 
 I made of my teacher a principal feature 
 In keeping me out of the sky. 
 
 I fastened tin pails to the yaller purps' tails 
 
 And chased the old rooster about; 
 I chucked stones at the cat, but I only did that 
 
 In order that wings should not sprout. 
 
 I made faces at girls and I pulled all their curls 
 
 And I boxed baby Sis on the ear; 
 I did all my lying to keep me from dying — 
 
 And that's how I come to be here. 
 
 No Demand. 
 
 Motorist (entering country store) — " I don't suppose 
 you keep sparking-plugs in stock?" 
 
 Storekeeper — " You s'pose kerrect, mister. If any 
 uv the boys 'round these parts ever wore plugs when 
 they went sparkin' they'd be joshed clear crazy, I'll 
 wager !" 
 
 PHRASE FROM MELODRAMATIC FICTION. 
 " Pursued by unoamable horrors 1''
 
 The Unwritten Law 
 
 By H. K. EBERT 
 
 THE PLAINTIFF looked as if he had been to a 
 Polish wedding. One eye was closed and the 
 other peered furtively through half-open lids. 
 His nose was out of plumb, and when he opened his 
 mouth it could be seen that his teeth had been tam- 
 pered with. One arm was in a sling, and he smelled 
 like a dispensary. 
 
 The defendant was a well-dressed man of middle age 
 and peaceable mien. Once or twice he glanced at the 
 plaintiff, and a gleam of unholy joy lighted his face; 
 but he did not look like a fighting man. 
 
 " I caught him in the act, yer honor," testified the 
 policeman who had made the arrest. " This here chap," 
 indicating the defendant, " was beatin' the neck off the 
 other fellow." 
 
 "What have you to say?" asked the magistrate of 
 the plaintiff. 
 
 " It was an unprovoked assault," said the man thus 
 addressed. " I met Mr. Brown on the street and passed 
 the time of day. Without a word of warning he at- 
 tacked me." 
 
 The magistrate turned to the defendant, who at the 
 words " unprovoked assault " had glared at his accuser, 
 and thundered, " What have yoa to say?" 
 
 The defendant cleared his throat and began in a mild 
 tone. 
 
 " I have been suffering with a cold recently," he 
 said, " and have been afraid to take off my heavy under- 
 wear. My wife put a poultice on my chest this morn- 
 ing, and, fearing a thunder shower, she made me wear 
 my overshoes. I came down-town on the sunny side of 
 the car with the window closed." 
 
 The magistrate loosened his collar and reached for a 
 fan. 
 
 " I had a telephone call to make," continued the 
 speaker, " and the connection was so bad I had to close 
 the door of the booth. I was inside for fifteen minutes, 
 talking to a Welshman who stuttered." 
 
 "Turn on that electric fan, Jim," interrupted the 
 magistrate, calling to his constable. 
 
 " When I left the 'phone booth," resumed the de- 
 fendant, " I saw a car I wanted about fifty feet away. 
 I chased it for nearly a block, but couldn't catch it. 
 The perspiration was leaking into my shoes, and I left a 
 trail like a street sprinkler. The poultice on my chest 
 would have smoked if it hadn't been so wet. 
 
 "Then I met Mr. Robinson, and he asked me if it 
 was hot enough for me." 
 
 The magistrate sprang to his feet, mopping his wide 
 and rosy face with his handkerchief, and glowered at 
 Mr. Robinson. 
 
 " Beat it!" said he to the defendant. 
 
 Also Comic. 
 
 First shining light (in the colored church) — "Ah 
 don't believe in callin' dis heah society de Ladies' Aux- 
 iliary. Dat's imitatin' de white folks." 
 
 Second shining light — " Den wot will we call it?" 
 First shining light — " Well, wot's de mattah wid 
 callin' it de ' Colored Supplement '?" 
 
 No Dangler. 
 
 Worldly aunt — "See here, Edith! That young man 
 to whom you've engaged yourself — -is his future as- 
 sured?" 
 
 Niece — "Oh, yes, auntie! He was baptized as a 
 child." 
 
 " You are the most worthless man living. 
 You're not worth your salt" 
 
 TWO ASPECTS OF THE MATTER. 
 
 But when the railroad company, whose 
 train had killed Mr. Worthless, wanted to settle 
 for $10,000, Mrs. W. held out for $25,000.
 
 
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 I 
 
 CAMPING OUT. 
 
 LIKE to lie 
 And watch the sky, 
 Indulge in dreams and wishes, 
 And while away 
 A pleasant day, 
 While others wash the dishes. 
 
 — Washington Herald. 
 
 And when at night 
 
 With appetite 
 So keen the meals we eat, oh, 
 
 'Tis satisfac- 
 
 Tion when he whack 
 The familiar mosquito. 
 
 — Scranton T)-ibune. 
 
 But there is yet another charm, 
 When camping out, none doubt; 
 That is when some one lies down hard. 
 Upon your sun-burned arm. 
 
 Raymond Purcell, Philadelphia, Pa. 
 
 SO THERE! 
 
 ^^#IRIAM'S mother, after sitting for an hour and a 
 half on the topmost step in the hallway, breathed 
 a sigh of relief as the vestibule door shut with a re- 
 luctant click. 
 
 " Miriam," she called, as the pride of the neighbor- 
 hood tripped lightly up the stairs, " isn't that young 
 Schmidt coming to our house pretty often nowadays?" 
 " 1 s'pose he is, mamma." 
 
 "Do you know anything about him? What is he 
 worth, for instance?" 
 
 " Well, he's worth any dozen of the ordinary young 
 men of my acquaintance." 
 
 "Yes, my dear; but" 
 
 " And he's worth one hundred dollars a week to the 
 firm that he works for, even if he does get only fifteen 
 dollars now." 
 
 James L. Gaines, Coyetsville, N. J . 
 
 BETTER NEXT TIME. 
 
 *' I trust," exclaimed the pious visitor to Convict No. 164, " that you see the error of 
 your ways. " 
 
 "You bet I do I" was the ready response; "and I've got a new system all framed 
 up."
 
 WILL AIRSHIPS BE POPULAR WITH HOBOES? 
 
 /jjlmjil 
 Ui. mil. 
 
 m^m 
 
 1. 
 
 rhiJ^i'^U^'"'f-^"ir"T}^r' ^'^°'^ ■ I'^« g°' 'het fake 
 chimbly all built. Now I'll jest put Spot in if, so's he kin 
 grab th next tramp thet flies along this way." 
 
 Prose about Poets. 
 
 By W. J. LAMPTON. 
 
 A POET learns in suflfering what he tells in the 
 magazines. 
 
 In the spring a poet's fancy lightly turns to 
 the increased demand for his product. 
 
 Those best can judge a poet's worth who are not 
 asked to buy his stuff. 
 
 Not every poet who cackles lays an egg. 
 A poet in time saves nine— dollars and a half, more 
 or less. 
 
 Unto the poet all things are poetry, except editors. 
 
 Money makes the poet go. 
 
 Don't look a gift poet in the verse. 
 
 This is the truth the poet sings, that pleasure's crown 
 of pleasure is seeing his published things. 
 
 Two poets do not make a hummer. 
 
 Desperate poets require desperate editors. 
 
 A poet in print is worth two trying to get there. 
 
 A green editor makes a fat poet. 
 
 Better an empty poet than an empty poem. 
 
 Poets butt in where angels fear to tread. 
 
 Poets must write and editors must weep. 
 
 It is hard to put old heads on young poets. 
 
 Poets may die, but they never resign. 
 
 A wise man thinks all that he says; 'a poet savs all 
 that he thinks. 
 
 If the editor will not come to the poet, the poet must 
 go to the editor. 
 
 Art is long— the poet is short most of the time. 
 
 Cast thy poetry into the mails and thou shalt find it 
 after many days, unless you neglected to inclose postage 
 for return if not available. 
 
 Better Dad Than Editors. 
 
 Judge — " How do you earn your living?" 
 Prisoner—" By writing, your honor." ' 
 Judge-- And what do you write for, would you mind 
 telling us? 
 
 Prisoner-- Not at all; I write for money from 
 home. ' 
 
 w 
 
 A Cautious Maiden. 
 
 By HORACE DODD GASTIT. 
 
 'E TOOK a stroll in Arcady, in Arcady, in Arcady, 
 We took a stroll in Arcady one lovely autumn day. 
 We walked in lane and parkady, 
 And ilstened to the larkady 
 Who killed all care and carkady 
 With merry roundelay. 
 
 We strolled till after darkady, ter darkady, ter darkady. 
 
 We strolled till after darkady had shadowed all the way. 
 But it was damp in Arcady, 
 And I began to barkady. 
 And sneeze like any sharkady 
 With the pneumoniay. 
 
 I coughed like any Snarkady, ny Snarkady, ny Snarkady, 
 I coughed like any Snarkady with influenziay. 
 My sweetheart made remarkady, 
 " Let's get aboard our arkady ! 
 Oh, Strephon, to me harkady. 
 And sail from here away. 
 
 ',1"^'^ beautiful in Arcady, in Arcady, in Arcady, 
 Tis beautiful in Arcady, but, oh, my lover, pray, 
 
 Hereafter let us sparkady 
 
 At Quoque or Menlo Parkady, 
 
 Or Binghamton, New Yarkady; 
 
 Along the soft Ozarkady, 
 
 Metuchen, Hackensackady, 
 
 Or on the Hacmatackady — 
 
 I care not where or whatady 
 
 Its name or humble lotady. 
 
 If it be cold or hotady. 
 
 As long as here 'tis notady; 
 
 For in this famous spotady 
 We'll get malariay." 
 
 These Hard Times. 
 
 AN economically-minded citizen stopped in a hardware 
 store and asked, 
 
 " How much are children's bathtubs?" 
 
 " From three dollars up," responded the clerk. 
 
 "Whew!" whistled the customer. " Guess we will 
 
 have to keep on washing the baby in the coal-scuttle." 
 
 A-frator Archte—" Dis airship gag is all to de candy. Jest 
 drop in on de fanner's wife an' make yer demands. An' I 
 t ink yours airily ' is wise in selectin' dis chimbly as de right 
 one ter drop inter.
 
 WILL AIRSHIPS BE POPULAR WITH HOBOES? 
 (Continuea) 
 
 <^ 
 
 — — Holy sufferin' aeroplanes ! dis here farmer is certainly up 
 ter date. 
 
 The S&usage King. 
 
 Br BERTON BRALEY. 
 
 THE king of the sausages lives afar 
 (Waiter, put stones in the oyster stew). 
 In a distant isle where the pretzels are. 
 (Butter your hair and try a few.) 
 His ways are odd and his manners rude, 
 His tastes are rough and his quarters crude. 
 But he bears them with frankfortitude. 
 
 (Waiter, more stones in the oyster stew). 
 
 He sailed to the isle on a canine bark 
 
 (Waiter, put stones in the oyster stew). 
 
 From a German picnic in the park. 
 (Butter your hair and try a few.) 
 
 He built his house on a side hill bleak. 
 
 And the roof of the blooming thing would leak. 
 
 So he couldn't live in it once a week. 
 
 (Waiter, more stones in the oyster stew.) 
 
 A queer old chap is the sausage king 
 
 (Waiter, put stones in the oyster stew) ; 
 He's given to eating most any old thing. 
 
 (Butter your hair and try a few.) 
 For his Sausageship is sorely curst. 
 With nothing to drink and a burning thirst. 
 And his children go from worse to wurst. 
 (Waiter, more stones in the oyster stew.) 
 
 But I'd like to live on the Sausage Isle 
 (Waiter, put stones in the oyster stew). 
 
 Where they raise hot sausages every style 
 (Butter your hair and try a few), 
 
 Where the food is fat and the talk is Dutch, 
 
 And nobody ever amounts to much. 
 
 Ah, take me there, for I like it such! 
 
 (Waiter, I'm done with the oyster stew.) 
 
 The Only Preventive. 
 
 The zebra — " Looks as if your tribe is doomed to 
 extinction." 
 
 The elephant (gloomily) — "Nothing else — unless 
 some jungle Burbank teaches us to grow celluloid tusks 
 instead of ivory." 
 18 
 
 The Dangers of Optimism. 
 
 By THOMAS L. MASSON. 
 
 OPTIMISM is really an excellent theory if kept in 
 its place, but in these days the tendency is to run 
 it into the ground. We meet professional opti- 
 mists everywhere. What can be more terrible, for ex- 
 ample, than to be in such a mental state that you can be 
 cured by any form of the New Thought? 
 
 In the first stages optimism is easily curable. One 
 of the receipts is to buy a hundred shares of Amalga- 
 mated Copper. 
 
 In its second stage it is susceptible of treatment by 
 marriage or living in the suburbs. 
 
 In the last stages, however, the patient is hopeless. 
 He is too happy for any use, and is, of course, quite un- 
 bearable. 
 
 The worst feature of optimism is the people it forces 
 you to associate with. Not to be able to get rid of the 
 man who has discovered the-true-meaning-of-Life — in- 
 deed, to become so that you actually enjoy his company 
 — is beyond all cure. And there is nothing worse than 
 the man who has discovered the-true-meaning-of-Life. 
 There ma^ be other grades of superiority more offensive, 
 but we have never met them. It is better, indeed, to be 
 conservative, and not admit that there is too much good 
 in anything. 
 
 Only in this way can one retain one's self-respect in 
 these days of universal panaceas. 
 
 Seemed Foolhardy. 
 
 ** L^^'^ here!" said the official, " there'll be trouble 
 ^ if your wife disregards us when we persistently 
 
 tell her she must not pick the flowers." 
 
 " Then," replied Mr. H. Peck — for it was no other — 
 
 " why ever do you persist?" 
 
 ««\A7hY DO they call those new skirts directoire?" 
 "' " French for ' directory,' I am told." 
 "Well?" 
 " Chief points of interest shown at a glance." 
 
 fAs he lands.) Airships may be all right in deir place, but 
 
 dey ain't goin' ter be indorsed by me — not much ! It's de 
 good old dusty country roads an' knockin' at de doors fer 
 mine hereafter.'"
 
 
 
 THE TWO-LEGGED KIND. 
 
 Mr. Coon — " How'd yo' like ter meet me 'round ter Squire Brown's hen-roost 
 ter-night, Mr. Possum .'" 
 
 Air. Possum — " No, thank yo', Mr. Coon. Dar's too much danger ob dar bein' 
 some udder coon dan yo' dar." 
 
 Two of a Kind. 
 
 I^HE MARBLE clock in the dining-room had just an- 
 nounced in mellow tones the hour of three a. m., 
 when the wife of the plumber nudged him and whispered 
 nervously, 
 
 " Horace! there's a burglar in the house!" 
 
 "There is, hey?" answered the husband, now thor- 
 oughly awake. " I'll see about him." 
 
 With cunning stealth he got out of bed and tiptoed 
 out of the room. For ten minutes no sound broke the 
 awful stillness; then the house shook with a crash. 
 There was a century of silence. Then a chair fell, the 
 front door slammed, and a heavy bundle thumped down 
 the front stairs and into the street. 
 
 The terrified wife fainted, to be brought back to con- 
 sciousness by the voice of her husband. 
 
 " It's all right, dear; I threw him out," he chuckled, 
 as he turned on the light. " But the scoundrel had only 
 four dollars and thirty cents on his clothes." 
 
 The Wonderful Power of Suggestion. 
 
 Howard — " Did you ever know any one who was cured 
 by suggestion?" 
 
 Coward — " Yes. I cured the duke's ''nfatuation for 
 my daughter by suggesting that he lend me five dollars. ' ' 
 
 Up to Date. 
 
 'l^HEY were looking up at the latest skyscraper. 
 * " But what are those things sticking out from the 
 sides?" asked the up-State friend. 
 
 "Those? Oh, those are mile-posts!" answered the 
 New Yorker. 
 
 Undesirable. 
 
 'l^HIS sign has been posted by a multi-millionaire over 
 his gate : 
 " Notice — No book agents, peddlers, hucksters, for- 
 eign prices, lords, or dukes allowed on these premises!" 
 
 A Good Thing To Plan for. 
 
 Jim — " Is Nubbly far-sighted?" 
 Joe — " Yes. He is always planning ahead.'* 
 Jim — " That's good, for he must be awfully mssatis- 
 fied with the one he has." 
 
 Joe— "What do you think of the foreign mail for 
 two cents?" 
 
 Jay — " Depends on the foreign male. I think a 
 foreign male like Boni de Sagandi would be expensive 
 at any price." 
 
 l^EWS ITEM— A tug captain of Dum has walked with 
 a limp ever since he heard of the corn on one of 
 his tows. 
 
 THE LOST LINK. 
 
 " If I'd known the old thing was so valuable I wouldn't 
 have stolen it. Here they are advertising it already."
 
 WA»»T 
 
 The Night after Thanksgiving 
 
 By L. S. WATERHOUSE. 
 
 OW ON my breast doth heaviness 
 And anxious sorrow sadly lie. 
 'Tis echo of last night's distress — 
 I dreamed I was a chicken pie. 
 
 My crust was full, yet would not burst, 
 Although I did not cease to strive. 
 
 I felt their wings, and — what was 
 worst — 
 Each mother's chick appeared alive ! 
 
 In vain I sought to plunge a knife 
 
 To where such great disturbance lay; 
 
 I only managed in my strife 
 
 To cast the bedclothes all away. 
 
 At last — I knew not when nor how — 
 This vision sauntered from my head. 
 
 And yet I could not rest, for now 
 I was a roasted pig instead. 
 
 My ears were decked with something green; 
 
 I held an apple in my paws. 
 And some one — meanest of the mean — 
 
 Had jammed a lemon in my jaws! 
 
 I woke from this to swiftly drag 
 My senses through a greater woe; 
 
 I was all sewed up in a bag — 
 
 A pudding, I would have you know. 
 
 And now all earthly hope seemed past — 
 I screeched and floundered, so they said. 
 
 This morning, when I woke at last, 
 I wished I had not gone to bed. 
 
 A Convenient Failing. 
 
 ««^AfHY DID you walk out during the sermon?" 
 ^" " Couldn't help it. I'm a somnambulist. " 
 
 Business before Sentiment. 
 
 TT WAS a girl at the home of the Battle Creek mil- 
 lionaire, and the question now was the name- 
 Everything, from Abigail to Zoe, was rejected, until 
 a poet, who was present, mentioned "Cerealita. " 
 Instantly there was a great acclaim — the question was 
 settled. 
 
 But Mr. Offlewod shook his head and wrote in a little 
 notebook. " After all," he said, " it is but a baby girl. 
 There are millions in this name for our new breakfast 
 food, composed of equal parts of pine shavings, parched 
 excelsior and shredded saw logs, and business is busi- 
 ness." 
 
 So they named the baby Sarah Jane. 
 
 All He Asked. 
 
 ** A^^ WHAT," asked one of the once-famous 
 actor's friends as he bent beside the bed, 
 " would you like to have carved on your tombstone? Is 
 there not some sentiment which you wish to have used 
 as your epitaph?" 
 
 " Yes," the dying man replied. " Let it be this: ' It 
 never was necessary to give him a benefit.' " 
 
 The Fair Grafter. 
 
 SHE HAD quite a passion for whist, 
 And few were the tricks that she missed. 
 If you chanced to get heated 
 And claimed that she cheated. 
 She smiled so you couldn't insist. 
 
 H 
 
 Society. 
 
 ONOR and place from one condition rise. 
 
 Act swell your part, there social prestige lies. 
 
 NEWS ITEM. 
 Mr. Turkey receives a " black-hand " letter.
 
 AT A BACHELORS' CLUB THANKSGIVING DINNER 
 
 1. Eleven o'clock p. m. 
 
 3. Four o'clock a. m. 
 
 Poor Adam ! 
 
 A Vulgar Word. 
 
 ADAM stopped to wipe the sweat out of his eyes. Miss Pat-r Venue — "Oh, maw, there comes Mra 
 * " Well," he said, " I had a fine time in Eden, all Brown up the steps! My! don't she look bellicose to- 
 right, but it certainly is tough to spend the rest of your day !" 
 
 life paying for one season at a summer resort." Then Mrs. Parr Venue — " Don't use such vulgar language, 
 
 he dropped his hoe and stumbled wearily across the field daughter. Say adipose. Mrs. Brown can't help being 
 
 to drive a rhinoceros out of the corn. stout." 
 
 "The Early Bird-" 
 
 Manager — " I suppose you noticed 
 that my advertisement read ' None but 
 a sober man need apply for this posi- 
 tion'?" 
 
 Applicant — " Yes, I noticed that, and 
 that's why I applied very early in the 
 morning." 
 
 Easily Obliged. 
 
 Tramp — " Say, boss, can yer tell a 
 feller where he kin get fifteen cents fer 
 abed?" 
 
 Old gentleman (dealer in second- 
 hand furniture) — " Certainly, my good 
 man. Bring the bed to me, and if it is 
 worth fifteen cents I'll buy it." 
 
 He — •" Really, now, what would you 
 do if you were a man?" 
 
 She—" What would you?" 
 
 •^1 
 
 MUSICAL. 
 A German air.
 
 
 Why Joyner Left Home. 
 
 •« /kl^B YOU ready to receive the obligations?" asked 
 
 * * the Moat Upright Supreme Hocus-Pocus of the 
 Order of Hoot Owls. 
 
 " I am," said the candidate firmly. 
 
 " Then take a sip of this prussic acid, place your 
 right hand in this pot of boiling lead, rest your left 
 hand upon this revolving buzz-saw, close your eyes and 
 repeat after me ' ' 
 
 Early next morning shreds of Joyner's clothing were 
 found upon the bushes and trees all along the road to 
 Pottsville, thirty miles distant, and at Scrabbletown, 
 sixty miles away, he was reported still headed west. 
 
 There Was. 
 
 npHE DISHEVELED bard entered the weary-eyed 
 * editor's apartment. 
 
 " Is there an opening here for a poet?" he inquired. 
 
 " Yes, indeed," replied the editor, touching a button 
 ondemeath his desk; and the next instant the poet dis- 
 appeared through a trap door in the floor. 
 
 The Height of AffabiUty. 
 
 Randall — " Falls all over you, does she?" 
 Rogers — " She couldn't be any more affable if I were 
 her cook." 
 
 A^ 
 
 
 
 A Marvel of Human Ingenuity. 
 
 'l^HE WRITER has never appreciated until recently 
 what a boon was conferred upon humanity by the 
 typecasting machine. It is now in general use in a ma- 
 jority of newspaper offices, and the writer's heart throbs 
 with gratitude to the inventor when he reads an impor- 
 tant and thrilling dispatch like the following: 
 
 "Washington, D. C, Sept. 12.— At Fort 
 Myer, to-day, Orville Wright in his aeroplane 
 women. They have asked for the suffrage on 
 affection has little to do with the marriage 
 -ds jt :jno apeiu :>sb[ ye sba jjoaqD aq^ uaqM 
 
 This achievement on the part of Wright 
 leads to the conclusion that the problem of the 
 navigation of the air has at last been- 
 by the tyrant man with his medieval ideas of 
 by the tyrant man with his medieval ideas of 
 by the tyrant man with his medieval ideas of 
 solved. The planes of this unique machine are 
 the heaviness which was needed where a tube 
 
 yyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy 
 
 Mushy Miriam. 
 
 A SOULFUL young woman named Miriam, 
 ** Whene'er she had beaux, would quite weary 'em 
 
 With languishing sighs 
 
 She would roll up her eyes. 
 And would darling and ducky and dearie 'em. 
 
 '\-,u M 
 
 HARD LUCK. 
 Turk (gasping) — "Well, to think after training and starving for six weeks and escaping the axe, a pail^ 
 of Thanksgiving joy-riders should hand it to me ! " (Expires.)
 
 AFTER THE THANKSGIVING MEAL. 
 "Well, where'U we go now — football game or matinee? " 
 Neither. If we go to the game it will be beef and brawn, and if we go to the show it will be legs and 
 wings ; and I don't want to be reminded of anything to eat for six weeks ! '' 
 
 The Correspondence Column. 
 
 BY FRANK R. WALTON. 
 
 OF ALL the institutions great for making people 
 wise, 
 The very greatest one of all is " Queries and Re- 
 plies," 
 The correspondence column of the Feminine Gazette, 
 For Madame Claire, who writes that part, is wisdom's 
 
 special pet. 
 Her answers settle ev'ry doubt with perfect satisfaction. 
 So " Old Subscriber" merely needs to put them into 
 action ! 
 
 One rule, quite neat, cures swollen feet, 
 
 The next will soothe a lovelorn heart; 
 Then come replies on killing flies. 
 And whether Browning is true art. 
 For never mind how big a woe or knotty question may 
 
 arise, 
 It never yet feazed Madame Claire, whose wisdom rare. 
 Can settle all, though great or small. 
 In " Queries and Replies." 
 
 No doubt great Solomon waswise and knew a thing or two. 
 But did he know that ermine furs should be wrapped up 
 
 in blue? 
 And could he tell just how to make upon a simple plan 
 A very stylish hatpin case from any old tin can? 
 Ah, Man ! proud Man ! must own at least this little 
 
 limitation — 
 It takes a Madame Claire to guide the women of the 
 nation. 
 
 Her judgments clear, they all will hear, 
 For instinct tells her all their needs; 
 And so we find that womankind 
 
 With confidence her column reads. 
 For since there's magic in a name, and in French names 
 
 most magic lies, 
 The fact is hid that Madame Claire, with wisdom rare, 
 Is just a myth, and Billy Smith 
 Writes " Queries and ReplisB." 
 
 He Had Reformed. 
 
 <( ¥TNCLE MOSE, " said the drummer, addressing an 
 
 ^^ aged colored man who was holding down a dry- 
 goods box in front of the village store, " they tell me 
 that you remember seeing General Washington. Is it 
 true?" 
 
 " No, sah," replied the old man. " Ah uster 'mem- 
 bah seein' him, but Ah don't no moh since Ah done j'in'd 
 church, sah." 
 
 The Wrong Charge. 
 it /OFFICER," said the police magistrate, " what is 
 
 ^^ the charge against this man?" 
 
 " Disorderly conduct, your honor. He approached 
 two chorus ladies to whom he had never been introduced 
 and invited them to have a Thanksgiving dinner at his 
 expense." 
 
 "That wasn't disorderly conduct — it was reckless 
 daring." 
 
 The Sheath Gown. 
 
 LIKE other fads that don't endure, 
 'Twill have its little day. 
 The ladies, though, should first make sure 
 That they are built that way. 
 
 Young America's Explanation. 
 
 ((MyVY CHILD, your head is all perspiration!" 
 *▼* << Yes, ma; my roof leaks." 
 
 Readily Accounted For. 
 
 Charley Litewate — " I am greatly troubled with a 
 rush of blood to the head. How do you account for it, 
 doctor?" 
 
 Doctor — " Well, Nature abhors a vacuum, you know. "
 
 Ezekiel Jones's Snore Suppressor 
 
 By ARTHUR WILLIAM BEER 
 
 WAS waiting for my train at a little 
 
 country station. It was a still, summer 
 
 day, and the 
 
 silence was 
 
 broken only by 
 
 the rhythmic 
 
 snoring of a 
 
 negro porter, 
 
 who lay 
 
 stretched out 
 in the sun on the baggage 
 platform. 
 
 " It seems odd that, in this 
 age of big inventions, no one 
 has ever thought up some 
 method of preventing snor- 
 ing," I remarked casually to 
 the only other person in sight, 
 an old fellow who was seated 
 on a crate of chickens, chew- 
 ing tobacco and expectorating 
 at intervals with a calm and 
 judicious air. 
 
 He fixed a pair of keen gray 
 eyes on me. 
 
 " Reckon you're a stranger 
 in these parts?" he said pres- 
 ently. 
 
 I admitted it. 
 
 He chuckled joyously to himself. 
 
 " Never heard tell o' Jake Weathersby?" 
 
 IT ALL DEPENDS. 
 
 Mr. Smith — " Are you interested in stuffed 
 birds?" 
 
 Mr. Jonts — " Yes, when the job is done by a 
 good cook." 
 
 I said that I had not, but indicated my entire will- 
 ingness to hear of him or of any other gentleman, the 
 relation of whose exploits 
 might serve to pass away the 
 tedious hours while awaiting 
 the advent of that infernal 
 train. 
 
 The old man supplied him- 
 self with a fresh chew of to- 
 bacco, took careful aim at the 
 shining steel rail a few feet 
 away, looked disappointed when 
 he missed it, and finally pro- 
 ceeded. 
 
 " You think that nigger's 
 snorin'," said he. " Sakes 
 alive, that ain't snorin'! You 
 oughter have heard Jake 
 Weathersby! Guess he — well, 
 I'll tell you how the matter o' 
 the invention come up. 
 
 " I was settin' round about 
 here a couple o' years back 
 when a queer-lookin' old fellow 
 happened along. 
 
 "'Nice little town you've 
 got here,' says he. 
 
 " ' Pretty fair,' says I. 
 "'I was lookin' around a bit last night,' says he, 
 ' and things certainly seemed pretty prosperous. Lots 
 o' buildin' goin' on — and what's that sort o' little fac- 
 
 THE FORTUNE-TELLER. 
 
 Sharp Ed/fe — "This card means that a terrible misfortune will befall you 
 on the day indicated."
 
 you?' 
 
 STAGE GOSSIP. 
 ' You were the leading man last season, weren't 
 
 "Yes; coming back." 
 
 fame, fame!' he muttered. 'What a bubble thou 
 art!' 
 
 "Then he went on to explain the situation. Seems 
 he was an inventor of all sorts of odd contrivances, and 
 his latest was a patent snore suppressor. He was 
 lookin' around for some good, hearty snorer to test it 
 on, and it struck him right away that old man Weath- 
 ersby was it. 
 
 " I was quick enough to agree that if his machine 
 would subdue the nerve-rackin', ear-splittin', hyena-like 
 snore possessed by Jake Weathersby, it would fill a 
 long-felt want. 
 
 " ' But,' says I, ' the old man will never agree to any 
 such foolishness. I rather think he's proud o' that 
 snore o' his.' 
 
 " ' I'll fix that up all right,' says Ezekiel. 
 
 " Well, I warned him that he'd better go slow and 
 not play any monkey tricks with the old man. 
 
 "'He's a regular old fire-eater,' says I, 'and not 
 skeered of anything. Wait!' says I; 'I reckon he is 
 just a bit afeared of the Widow Smith, who's been 
 a-settin' her cap at him for some time. But that's 
 natural enough. Otherwise he's plum bloodthirsty. 
 There's been some kind o' night-ridin' fellers around 
 here lately, a-robbin' and raisin' the devil generally. 
 
 " ' Jest let 'em come a-nigh my place,' says old Jake 
 t'other day. ' I may not be quite as spry on my feet as 
 I used to be, but I reckon I kin handle them fellers all 
 
 tory down at the foot o' the hill just 
 on the edge 'o town? Must be pretty 
 busy — they was still a-runnin' when I 
 came a-past there late last night.' 
 
 " ' Factory?' says I. ' I don't know 
 o' no factory.' 
 
 " ' Well,' he says, ' all I can say is 
 there certainly was some kind o' ma- 
 chinery runnin' there when I came by 
 about ten o'clock last night,' and he 
 went on to describe the place pretty 
 accurate. 
 
 "Then a great light breaks in upon 
 me, as the writer folks would say. 
 
 "' Factory nothin'!' I says. ' That 
 ain't no factory. That's old man 
 Weathersby's place, and I reckon 'twas 
 him a-snorin' you heard.' 
 
 " He looked surprised-like for a mo- 
 ment. Then : 
 
 " ' That's what I call providential ! ' 
 says he. 
 
 " ' The neighbors don't so regard it,' 
 says I. 
 
 " Then he digs out a card from his 
 pocket and hands it to me. 
 
 "'Ezekiel Jones, Inventor,'! read. 
 
 " ' Reckon you've heard o' that name 
 afore,' he says, as I looked from the 
 card to him. 
 
 " ' Never in my life,' says I. 
 
 "He looked a bit downcast. 'Ah, 
 
 WICKED NEW YORK. 
 Clara— " Why is New York different than most laree cities?'" 
 l-^ra— "I don't know." 
 C/ara — "It was once possessed with two ' Devils ' instead of one."
 
 right. I don't like to shed human blood,' he saya, ' but 
 dooty is dooty.' 
 
 " Well, notwithstandin' all I said about Jake Weath- 
 ersby, this here Ezekiel Jones still insisted that Jake 
 was elected to test his invention; and, after thankin' 
 me kindly for puttin' him next to so good a thing, and 
 writin' my name down in a dirty little memorandum 
 book so as he wouldn't fergit it, away he went. I heard 
 all about it afterward, partly through a letter Ezekiel 
 wrote me, and partly from the Widow Smith, though 
 she wasn't a widow no more then — but that's gettin' 
 ahead o' my story. 
 
 "It seems that this here Ezekiel Jones, Inventor, 
 went down to old man Weathersby's and tried to get 
 thick with him, but there was nothin' doin'. The old 
 man sized him up for a lightnin'-rod agent, and threat- 
 ened to shoot him if he didn't vacate the premises im- 
 mediate. Ezekiel was cast down, but not dismayed, as 
 you might say. He was clear grit. His invention just 
 had to be tested, and old man Weathersby was it. 
 Ezekiel had that all settled, and there was no gettin' it 
 out o' his (ipad. 
 
 " So what does he do but enter the shack at night 
 when all was still — no, you couldn't hardly say all was 
 still neither, for Jake Weathersby was makin' the 
 night hideous as usual with his boiler-factory snore. 
 
 " Yes, sir; that there inventor chap takes his life in 
 his hands, as you might say, and crawls through a win- 
 der that had been left open on account of its bein' a 
 warm summer evenin'. After gettin' his bearin's, he 
 sneaked up to the bedside and carefully adjusted his sup- 
 pressor, a curious contrivance o' steel plates and wire 
 springs, on old man Weathersby's prominent nose. He 
 then stepped back into the darkness to await results. 
 
 " Well, it appears that the results was all that could 
 be expected. Ezekiel wrote me afterward that he reck- 
 oned he'd made a miscalculation and keyed the sup- 
 pressor up too all-fired strong. 
 
 " Anyway, it seems the old man's snorin' ceased 
 with a suddenness, and he started up with a wild snort 
 o' terror. 
 
 " ' Lord ! the night-riders is upon me!' he yelled, and 
 made one fiyin' leap for the open winder. Out he went, 
 head-first, lightin' all in a heap in a patch o' weeds, but 
 
 FAMILY CHARACTERISTICS. 
 taim^tMeaders — ''^o ih' bunco man told yew he wuz a son o' good ol» D»acon Perkins, an* yew believed him? 
 Famtei Snakerool — "Kot at first, Si ; but when he started in talkin' religion an' tryin' tei pick my pocket at th 
 Mune time, by gam ! I jes' couldn't help but believe he wui Deacon Perkins's own son '
 
 scramblin' quickly to his feet and makin' off down the road as tight 
 as he could jump. 
 
 " Ezekiel hesitated a moment, and then clambered out of the 
 winder after him, for he didn't want to lose the only model of the 
 snore suppressor he had on hand. 
 
 " Down the pike galloped old man Weathersby, only hittin' the 
 high places, as it were, the suppressor meanwhile stickin' closer 
 than a brother ; and after him — a considerable ways after him — • 
 limped Ezekiel. 
 
 " After a bit Weathersby turns off into an open space on the edge 
 o' town, where the circus pitches its canvas when it hits this 
 village, and where we hold our county fairs. Ezekiel, thinkin' 
 that perhaps he'd gone for re-enforcements, and, moreover, bein' 
 pretty much winded by this time, drops out o' the race and departs 
 for some place unknown. 
 
 " Well, it so happened just at that time that the Afro- 
 American Ebenezer Congregation was holdin' of a camp-meetin' 
 on the fair grounds. Some o' them had been hangin* back un- 
 dooly, and the presidin' elder had been a-poundin' it into 'em that 
 night that the spirit o' wrath would mightily descend if they 
 didn't hasten to see the error o' their ways and double-quick to 
 the mourners' bench. 
 
 " Well, when old man Weathersby came a-tearin' through their 
 midst, with the suppressor hangin' on to his face like a crab and 
 his nightshirt streamin' in the breeze, it was the general opinion 
 that the spirit o' wrath had arrived on schedule time, and the 
 whole aggregation stampeded, as it were. 
 " It ain't o' record just when the old man run hisself down or got 
 
 ^ — ■" 
 
 "'TWAS BUT A DREAM." 
 
 " He dreamt that he dwelt in marble halls. 
 
 A QUACK DOCTOR. 
 
 rid o' the patent snore suppressor, but it 
 appears he finally did both. When he come 
 to a bit, he was scared to go back to his 
 house; besides, he was some tired, as you 
 may imagine, and, even on a summer's 
 evenin', a nightshirt is a leetle thin as an 
 outdoor garment. So, findin' hisself in the 
 neighborhood o' the Widow Smith's, and 
 seein' a light burnin' there, and bein' a bit 
 rattled into the bargain, I guess, as a re- 
 sult o' his excitin' run, he made bold to go 
 and knock on her door, with the idee o' 
 borrowin' a blanket or somethin' in which 
 he might infold hisself while huntin' up the 
 constable. 
 
 " He oughter have known wimmen folks 
 better, of course. It seems she went into 
 hysterics immediately on gettin' a sight o' 
 him. Her awful screams aroused the 
 neighbors, and they cams presently and 
 discovered old Jake Weathersby a-shiverin
 
 on the Widow Smith's front porch, while the widow 
 herself was havin' some kind of a fit in the doorway. 
 
 Well, of course, he just had to marry her, and " 
 
 But here the whistle of the approaching engine in- 
 terrupted the story. 
 
 The Unhappy Medium. 
 
 t« DRONSON is one of the most humble men I ever 
 saw." 
 
 " Yes. Arrogance seems to be wholly foreign to his 
 make-up." 
 
 " I wonder why it is that he always has such a serv- 
 ile manner?" 
 
 " I think it is because he is neither rich enough to 
 get into a trust nor poor enough to belong to a union." 
 
 Terrible Deprivation. 
 
 Stella — " Has she a Southern accent?" 
 Bella — " Yes. She can't get enough r's in a month 
 to eat oysters." 
 
 Lagniappe. 
 «t| UNDERSTAND that Mr. Pennink is making a 
 tremendous success, selling sh'ort stories to the 
 magazines," remarks the man with the frayed collar. 
 
 " Yes. He's a smooth one," replies the man with 
 the leaky fountain pen. 
 
 " He must be, to sell his stories. I don't see any- 
 thing about them to make the magazine editors crazy to 
 buy them." 
 
 " Well, he has a gift of rhyming, you know, and when 
 he sends a short story to a magazine he throws in a poem 
 of the right brevity to fill the bottom of the page on 
 which the story will end." 
 
 Juvenile Wisdom. 
 
 ti^ATHAT did people do before steel pens were in- 
 "' vented?" asked the teacher. 
 " The pinions of one goose were used to spread the 
 opinions of another," answered the wise boy at the 
 pedal extremity of the class. 
 
 CIRCUMSTANCES ALTER CASES. 
 
 Farmer — "Gosh ! I hate to kill thet turkey. I've fed her sence she wuzzent 
 much bigger then a sparrer. " 
 
 Sympathetic <vtsitor — " I understand just how you feel." 
 
 Farmer—" Course. Ye've only got to look at her. (Later, after lifting the 
 btrd.) Sho ! she ain't baff fat enough."
 
 THE INDIAN SUMMER OP FOOTBALL. 
 
 1 Uncle John — "Come on, Cy ! Let's show these youngsters how ive used to kick 
 the goal ! ' ' 
 
 Reflections of Uncle Ezra 
 
 By ROY K. MOULTON. 
 
 EZ PURDY'S wife has got a new changeable silk 
 dress. By gravy! if I was a woman I wouldn't 
 want a silk dress that I couldn't change once in 
 a while if I wanted to. 
 
 There are three kinds of fellers that ought to leave 
 boss racin' alone. They are old fellers, young fellers 
 and middle-aged fellers. The only ones that ever make 
 any money follerin' the bosses are hack drivers. 
 
 The people of our town demanded higher education 
 for their kids, so the school board has decided to build 
 the new schoolhouse up on top of Lookout Hill, which 
 is the highest in this township. 
 
 Grandpa Hanks has got a new wooden leg made out'n 
 a Normandy popular tree, and it grows so fast be has to 
 saw off six or eight inches of it every day, so that be 
 won't walk lopsided. He has sawed off enough already 
 to keep him in stove wood most all winter. The last 
 wooden leg be bad was made out'n a weepin' wilier, and 
 he says it looked so pathetic he didn't have the heart to 
 walk around on it. 
 
 Hank Peters fell off'n Anse Judson's barn the other 
 day and knocked his brains out. Hank don't mind it 
 much, as be has since got a job as chorus man with a 
 musical comical show. 
 
 Hi Spink says the hardest time he ever bad in his 
 life was once when be helped the minister put up a 
 stove and fit the pipe. Hi pretty near busted, boldin' 
 back so much language, but after he got through be 
 went down behind Perkins's mill and cussed for three 
 lours without stoppin'. 
 
 By ginger ! I have spent most of my life in the woods. 
 and I never beard of a hall tree. I guess somebody is a 
 nature faker. Anse Judson says be has got one. 
 
 Bud Hicks, of this town, who is spendin' the winter 
 in New York, must be keepin' nice and warm, as he 
 writes home that the police have kept him in the sweat- 
 box most of the time. 
 
 1 see by the papers another New York girl is goin' to 
 marry a foreign count. I never heard of a count that 
 wasn't a foreign one. 
 
 Deacon Stubbs says they have got a drink down to 
 New York called a pussy cafe, and when a feller drinks 
 one he feels like be was livin' nine lives all at once. 
 Deacons at home and deacons away from home is evi- 
 dently two kinds of deacons. 
 
 Mrs. Ansel Jimkey has to wear a thirty-nine-cent 
 calico wrapper to socials, funerals and other society 
 events, and she is thinkin' some of suin' Anse for divorce 
 on the grounds of incompatibility of expenditure. 
 
 When Hod Peters was down to York he kicked be- 
 cause he found a suspender button in the hash. Some 
 folks is never satisfied. He probably wanted a whole 
 suit of clothes. 
 
 A Man's Opinion. 
 
 (( ¥F WE bad women for judges," said the lady with 
 
 thesquare jaw, " few divorces would be granted." 
 
 "Yes," replied the horrid man. "They'd be so 
 
 eager to hear the scandalous details that it would never 
 
 be possible to get all the evidence in."
 
 Choice Spots on the Earth — Harlem 
 
 HARLEM is bounded on the north by Sing Sing, on 
 the east by the Long Island Perfumery Works at 
 Hunter's Point, on the south by J. P. Morgan and 
 on the west by the Palisades Advertising Company, un- 
 limited. 
 
 Harlem was first settled by the New York baseball 
 team, who were in the habit of killing their umpires on 
 the banks of the Harlem River as far back as 1798. Rip 
 Van Winkle once went through Harlem, and calling at 
 the first beer garden for a high ball, drank it, and stag- 
 gering on to the Catskills, slept for twenty years. That 
 is why no one, to this day, blames him. 
 
 Harlem is noted for its industries, among which we 
 may mention the Harlem goat joke and the Harlem flat 
 joke. These jokes immigrated from Egypt early in the 
 last century, and have since then led a peaceful and 
 unperturbed, but quite active, existence. 
 
 Harlem is connected with the Stock Exchange by the 
 elevated railroad, the subway and the Croton aqueduct. 
 Having been robbed of all personality years ago, it has 
 nothing to conceal. Its windows, disclosing its succu- 
 lent home life, are always open to the passing European 
 traveler at all hours of the day and night, enabling him 
 to get the most vivid impressions of America. It con- 
 tains about four miles of Philadelphia pressed brick, 
 children and bedclothes, and rises to a height of one 
 hundred feet above the Wall Street level. 
 
 Harlem and Brooklyn have been deadly rivals. In a 
 sleeping contest, no one knows which would win. Har- 
 lem is sustained and soothed by Woodlawn Cemetery; 
 Brooklyn has Greenwood. 
 
 It is fortunate that New York lies between them ; 
 
 otherwise the banner of the ready-made necktie, the 
 Sunday silk hat and the ubiquitous baby carriage would 
 float over Manhattan Island, where naught now inter- 
 feres with the Sabbath calm except the passing auto, 
 the clang of surface cars and the sound of falling poker 
 chips. T. L. M. 
 
 The Balance. 
 
 «« ¥T SEEMS to me," says the common consumer, 
 "that you and Carbon should be the wealthiest 
 men in this community." 
 
 " I'll tell you how it is," explains Frijjidd, the ice- 
 man. " In the summer Carbon buys his ice of me, and 
 in the winter I buy my coal of him. The consequence is 
 one offsets the other, and there isn't anything left for 
 either of us." 
 
 Up to Date. 
 
 tilUNDERSTAND," says the traveler in Arkansas, 
 " that your razor-back hogs down here are really 
 dangerous if they become enraged." 
 
 "They used to be, mister," allows the native; "but 
 we-all down yere ain't so behind the times as yo'-all up 
 there reckon we are. We don't raise nothin' but safety- 
 razor-back hogs now." 
 
 Trying To Shut Her Out. 
 
 <« /^ONDUCTOR," complained the lank spinster pas- 
 senger, " that man in the opposite seat is wink- 
 ing at me!" 
 
 " He says he doesn't mean to wink at you," explained 
 the car official. " He's trying to keep the eye that's 
 turned toward you shut, ma'am." 
 
 T'^E INDIAN SUMMER OF FOOTBALL. 
 
 Z, Youngiteri -" Score one point I"
 
 YES; THEY DO RIP UP THE OLD TOWN IN 
 A HURRY THESE DAYS! 
 
 a,y^^^^^p 
 
 «553^5nr" 
 
 Thanksg(iving Day. 
 
 THANKSGIVING DAY draws near; the h»n with 
 pensive eye 
 Reflects upon the prospect queer — she'll soon be chicken 
 pie. 
 
 The turkey's voice is stilled; chagrin has choked his 
 
 breath. 
 'Tis hard to know that he'll be filled with chestnuts after 
 
 death. 
 
 The pig has cause to fret; in vain he cries, " Fair play!" 
 For what a roasting he will get upon Thanksgiving Day ! 
 
 One Happy One. 
 
 BY WILLIAM J. LAMPTON. 
 
 1. Arttjt — "Ah, a bit of quaint, old-time city! 
 
 What He Meant. 
 
 Abrams — " I don't see your husband any more, Mrs 
 Isaacs. " 
 
 Mrs. Isaacs — "No; my 
 husband iss aick." 
 
 Abrams — " How iss he 
 getting along?" 
 
 Mrs. Isaacs — " He iss 
 failing fast." 
 
 Abrams — "I didn't in- 
 quire about his business. 
 How iss his health?" 
 
 The Day After. 
 
 Broadstreet (telephon- 
 ing) — "Maggie, what is 
 there for dinner to-night?" 
 
 Maggie — " I think it's 
 turkey, sir; cold, sir, with 
 mince pie." 
 
 Broadstreet — "Ahem! Well, you may tell Mrs. 
 l^roadstreet that I shall be detained at the office until a 
 late hour." 
 
 The Baby Grand. 
 
 BY WALTER BEVERLEY CRANE. 
 
 THE Baby Grand was not so bad ; 
 The music made was gay and glad; 
 And though we have the next-door flat. 
 We didn't mind a thing like that. 
 For music is our fad. 
 
 A year of melody we had, 
 And then there came a little lad. 
 The stork, he brought him, lusty, fat — 
 The Baby Grand ! 
 
 And oh! our walls we've had to pad — 
 The music's wild, the music's sad. 
 And father cries, " Oh, darn that brat!" 
 But mother, bless her ! says quite pat, 
 " The Baby Grand I" 
 
 "Money doesn't count a bit with me.' 
 
 AH, HAPPY lady! 
 Blessed she 
 Who doesn't care 
 For X or V, 
 While everywhere 
 The rest of us 
 Just yearn to be 
 An octopus. 
 
 ' — Mrs. Stuyvesant Fish. 
 
 How good it is 
 
 To be the one 
 Who doesn't want 
 
 To jump and run 
 Whenever 
 
 Anywhere around 
 The jingling needful 
 
 Makes a sound. 
 
 2 ^How lucky to stumble on this !- 
 
 The wide, wide world. 
 
 Excepting her. 
 Is out to grab 
 
 The sinister 
 And shifting stuff. 
 
 Which seems to be 
 The measure of 
 
 All energy. 
 
 Mankind is rushing 
 
 To and fro, 
 To swipe the scads 
 
 That come and go; 
 He makes pursuit 
 
 His constant god. 
 And bows before 
 
 The Demon Wad. 
 
 Ah, happy lady ! 
 
 It is well 
 That money does 
 
 Not work its spell 
 On her a bit. 
 
 Ah, would it were 
 That more of us 
 
 Were more like her! 
 
 -Scenes like this are so fast disappearing before
 
 YES ; THEY DO RIP UP THE OLD TOWN IN 
 A HURRY THESE DAYS! 
 
 4. the march of progress, it really seems 
 
 A Mighty Pen. 
 
 Farmer Scrahblegrass—" Th' feller as said he would 
 rather write than be Presi- 
 dent wa'n't so far wrong, 
 after all." 
 
 Farmer Stubbs — 
 " Ya-as; but we can't all 
 get a dollar a word fer a 
 jungle story." 
 
 A True Nobleman, 
 
 IJ^IRE had broken out in 
 * the royal palace, and 
 it was evident that the 
 historic old pile must be 
 consumed, with many of 
 its unfortunate inmates. 
 A frantic figure was seen 
 rushing down a long cor- 
 ridor. It was Clarence 
 Reginald Fitzherbert Fitz- 
 
 allan Fitzsimmons, Earl Hawtyfellowe, Baron Jewel- 
 zinsoke. Lord of the King's Silk Garters, Clerk of the 
 Royal Jack Pot, etc., etc. 
 
 " Hold!" shouted one of the Imperial Hook and Lad- 
 der Volunteers. " You must not precede the other noble 
 lords. Your rank is No. 29 at the king's table." 
 
 "Right, trusty fellow !" cried the earl. "I might 
 have forgotten." 
 
 With that he took up hia stand in the great corridor 
 until the Duke of Richbloode had donned a neat walking 
 suit and strolled out, and Lord Graveowle, who was No. 
 28, had finished bathing and was carried down the lad- 
 der. After that a burning shield fell upon the noble 
 earl, and the walls of the historic palace collapsed. 
 They buried him in the Abbey, with this inscription on 
 his tablet: " He died in his regular order." 
 
 Shop Talk. 
 
 Cigar dealer — " Yes, that is ray wife over there — 
 the one with the fine wrapper, American filler and per- 
 fecto shape.*' 
 19 
 
 The South and the North. 
 
 H WT'S a confounded shame the way the whites down 
 
 South persecute the negro for slight offenses!" 
 
 asserted the New Yorker, bound for the baseball game. 
 
 "You're right !" seconded his companion. "It's a 
 stain upon the reputation of the peaceable portion of 
 the nation." 
 
 " Indeed it is! Why, only day before yesterday, in 
 one city down there, they captured a poor nigger who 
 had scared a white woman in some way, and would have 
 killed him but for the intervention of a cool-headed 
 officer." 
 
 " Awful, awful ! By the way, what ails your voice? 
 You're as hoarse as I am." 
 
 " Oh, I was one of the mob that chased that miserable 
 umpire down the street after the game yesterday, and I 
 overdid myself yelling at them to string him up." 
 
 "Gad I I was iri that mob, too." 
 
 He Knew 
 
 Medium (after the seance) — " Can any one tell me 
 how spirits could have gotten into the room and moved 
 
 the furniture when all the 
 doors were locked?" 
 
 Bright boy (raising his 
 hand) — "With skeleton 
 keys." 
 
 Beware. 
 
 Wife (looking up from 
 newspaper) — "This paper 
 says that kissing is dan- 
 gerous because of germs. 
 Now I should like to know 
 what one might catch by 
 kissing?" 
 
 Husband (wearily) — 
 "Husbands." 
 
 -that before one can transfer them to canvas they are 
 
 Special Days. 
 
 First boardei " Not 
 
 hungry, or is it a fast day ? " 
 
 Second boarder — " Yes; this is hash Wednesday." 
 
 
 C-— "^-^ " / 1 O cJ O U ) U f 
 
 
 
 -gone ( '
 
 Imaginary Conversation between a Medium and a Spirit 
 
 By RALPH BERGENCREN. 
 
 MEDIUM — Did I hear anybody rap? Come right 
 in. 
 Spirit — I am in. 
 Medium — Hey? 
 
 Spirit — I am a spirit. 
 
 Medium — Spirit your grandmother! You can't fool 
 me! I've made too many spirits myself. 
 
 Spirit — Very poor ones, like most amateurs. Fat 
 and unimaginative mortal — — • 
 
 Medium — I ain't fat! I'm dignified. 
 
 Spirit — Dignified and unimaginative mortal, have 
 you ever made a star? 
 
 Medium — I ain't no theatrical trust, and you ain't no 
 spirit. Fat! Me! 
 
 Spirit — Did you ever see any spirits — outside of a 
 bottle? 
 
 Medium — Yes ; in a glass. Ha, ha ! He, he ! If 
 you was a real spirit you'd manifest yourself in a 
 spirituelle way — play a tambourine, ring a bell 
 
 Spirit — Think you the immortal soul has nothing bet- 
 ter to do with eternity than playing a tambourine, ring- 
 ing a bell or tickling with spirit finger the ribs of even 
 a younger and more attractive medium? 
 
 Medium — If there was any real spirits I guess they'd 
 be mad at us. We do make 'em kinder ridiculous. 
 
 Spirit — My dear medium, real spirits do not get 
 angry. They have too much time. You simply amusa 
 us. 
 
 Medium — Humph ! 
 
 Spirit — You describe yourself perfectly. You are 
 humps. It puzzles us sometimes to decide how it hap- 
 pens that those who pre- 
 tend to be the representa- 
 tives of the light and bodi- 
 less are invariably so fat 
 and ■ 
 
 Medium — Fat! It seems 
 as if you was possessed 
 with that word fat ! Bein' 
 a medium demands a dig- 
 nified an' imposin' figger. 
 Any spirit ought to be 
 able to see that. 
 
 Spirit --Any spirit 
 ought to be able to see 
 you. However, we'll let 
 it go at dignified. Did it 
 ever occur to you that you, 
 too, have a soul? 
 
 Medium — Me? 
 
 Spirit — Even you. 
 You have a soul. That 
 soul is capable of infi- 
 nite suffering. When 
 you burn your finger, 
 did you ever think how 
 it would feel if it kept 
 
 on burning, and kept on, and kept on, and kept on, 
 and 
 
 Medium — Stop it! You make me nervous. 
 
 Spirit — Let me give you something else to think 
 about. Did it ever occur to you that if your— er — 
 spirits were a little more like the real thing you would 
 attract a larger audience. 
 
 Medium — Now you're talkin'. What do you think I 
 ought to have the spirits do to 'em? 
 
 Spirit — Omit the spirits. Choose some other occupa- 
 tion, and begin to work upward toward that mortal 
 standard of commonplace honesty that is the first step 
 toward a comfortable spirit existence. You might begin 
 by selling tips on the stock market. 
 
 Medium — That ain't no better. 
 
 Spirit — It is less presumptuous than tips on eternity. 
 Then you might start a matrimonial bureau. Then you 
 might manufacture powders for improving the com- 
 plexion. Then — — ■ 
 
 Medium — Well, you do beat me ! What you drivin' 
 at, anyway? 
 
 Spirit — I am suggesting a slow evolution demanding 
 a genuine, although low, order of intelligence, such as 
 you possess. When you have shuffled off this mortal 
 coil of flesh 
 
 Mediuvi — Flesh ! 
 
 Spirit — I speak in figures. When worms have eaten 
 you 
 
 Medium — If you can't find any prettier figures to 
 speak in, I'm goin' out and get my dinner. Spirit! 
 You're a joker, that's what you are! Guess I'd know 
 
 it if there was any real 
 spirits ! 
 
 She Was Wise. 
 
 «4l^ISS FISH," re- 
 marked the young 
 man, as he placed his hat 
 on his head and prepared 
 to depart for home, " I 
 proposed for your hand two 
 hours ago, and I await 
 your answer with bated 
 breath." 
 
 "Mr. Smallchange," 
 smiled the young lady, 
 " I'm afraid you will have 
 to bait your breath with 
 something besides onions 
 and cloves to catch this 
 kind of a fish." 
 
 THE BEST OF REASONS. 
 
 "Hello, old man ! What are you doing in this 
 secluded corner?" 
 
 " Laying in weight for myself." 
 
 Teacher—" Why didn't 
 the lions touch Daniel?" 
 
 Johnny — ' ' They were 
 African lions and only 
 cared for dark meat."
 
 Why I Wouldn't Marry My Wife 
 
 {From thm Gentlemen's Home Journal.) 
 
 A 
 
 
 i^ 
 
 CONVERSATION — as conversations unfortunately 
 will when only married men are present — 
 turned on our wives. Presently one of us 
 asked the company, "Say, if you were a young 
 man and knew as much as you do tww, would 
 you marry your wife again?" 
 
 Personally I do not believe in discussing 
 such questions. As the proverb says, it's 
 no use crying over spilt milk. It's a good 
 deal wiser to mix water with what's left in 
 the jug and blame the milkman. But the 
 question haunted me. I thought it over at 
 lunch, and discussed it, guardedly, of course, 
 with the young woman behind my favorite 
 lunch counter. As a result — for we agreed 
 that it is always the wife's fault — I am 
 about to dictate to my stenographer a few 
 of the reasons why I should not marry my 
 wife if I had it to do over again. This I 
 do for the benefit of wives in general. My 
 stenographer may sooner or later become a 
 wife herself. 
 
 Not that I mean this to be an expose of 
 marital infelicity. My own married life 
 has been comparatively successful. We are 
 as happy together as two cold doughnuts 
 on the same plate. But many a husband craves and 
 needs a more complete realization of his youthful day 
 
 dreaming. Few wives understand the yearnings of 
 a man's poetic and sentimental nature. 
 
 The first reason why I would not marry my wife is be- 
 cause she is older. This may seem strange, insomuch 
 
 S IN fr TOr*J^ 
 
 Pr.or." 
 
 HE SPOKE TOO LATE. 
 Page — "She ain't in, sir." 
 
 Caller — " Come, tell me the truth and I'll give you a dollar. // she in ? " 
 Page— "You should have spoken before, sir. She gave me fifty cents 
 to say she was out, and I can't be a traitor." 
 
 THE HEATHEN CHINEE. 
 
 Is it a wonder that we abhor the Chinaman ? He has successfully ac- 
 quired the much-hated cigarette habit, robbed the faithful washerwoman 
 of her honorable profession, and now, "bad luck to him ! " he even deprives 
 the miserable clothesline of its duties. 
 
 as I knew she would grow older when I married her. I 
 have, to a certain extent, grown older myself. But the 
 popular magazines are full of pictures 
 of women whom I know to be older 
 than my wife, yet who look at least ten 
 or a dozen years younger. Evidently, 
 therefore, it is my wife's fault. What 
 one woman can do, my wife ought to be 
 able to do. I cannot blame myself for 
 sometimes feeling indignant that she is 
 no longer the shy, sweet creature that 
 in one happy summer week I learned to 
 worship. 
 
 I married a iuom.an brought up like 
 myself. That was a mistake. There 
 was almost nothing to make her realize 
 that I am a superior creature, and when 
 a wife does not, day by day and hour 
 by hour, rely more and more upon her 
 husband's judgment and experience, a 
 home is inevitably divided. There are 
 conflicts of opinion that cannot help but 
 mar the translucent delicacy of ideal 
 matrimony. Nothing, for example, so 
 handicaps a man in the battle of life as 
 to have his wife constantly disagree 
 with him in matters of taste. 
 
 ATwther reason why I would not 
 marry my wife is that she is more 
 polite to me than to any other man of 
 her acquaintance. Politeness, of course,
 
 THE CRUSOE OF THE FUTURE. 
 Shipwrecked on a deserted asteroid. 
 
 is necessary. I insisted upon it in the beginning. But 
 she has a special manner which she uses to me — a way 
 of saying, " If you please, my dear," or, " Of course, 
 if that is i/o)(r opinion," that I have heard wives use 
 to their husbands. The woman at the lunch counter is 
 polite, but it is in a different spirit. 
 
 I would not marry my wife again because of her im- 
 moderate use of chocolate drops. I am perfectly willing 
 that my wife should eat chocolate drops in moderation. 
 In fact, I am no such fool as not to know that if a 
 woman cannot eat chocolate drops at home, she will go 
 
 where she can. But I have beseeched her to moderate 
 her indulgence. I have sought to build up her pride, to 
 shame her womanhood, to show her that she is becoming 
 the slave of a habit. She positively tastes like a choco- 
 late drop. She knows I dislike chocolate, and it makes 
 no difference. Like all wives, she expects caresses, and 
 yet she insists upon tasting like a chocolate drop. Even 
 our children notice it, and comment upon it in a joking 
 way that should nevertheless be taken as a serious ex- 
 pression of disapprobation. 
 
 My wife is not truly delicate and refined, as I am. 
 She insists, for example, in taking the baby in a peram- 
 bulator when we go out for a walk. She likes to stop 
 and gawk — I can find no other word for it — gawk at the 
 bargains in the shop windows. She stops, right in the 
 street, to speak to dirty-faced urchins. She makes 
 jokes with tradespeople. She once allowed me to see 
 her when she had the mumps. These things have been 
 a terrible burden to me. If I had my life to live over 
 again, nothing would induce me to undertake them — no, 
 not even the proud delight of being the father of six 
 wonderful children. 
 
 These are only a feiv of the reasons why I would not 
 marry my wife, but they are enough perhaps to set some 
 wives thinking and introduce into other homes some- 
 thing of that ideal companionship for which men marry 
 and which so seldom materializes. Much would be ac- 
 complished if women would only realize how their hus- 
 bands crave appreciation. If I say to my own wife, 
 " Do you like my new suit?" she will probably answer, 
 "Yes; it is very becoming," and wonder why I asked 
 
 c o«\ k.<.»\t*~JS^ 
 
 NINETY-EIGHT IN THE SHADE. 
 
 TJie officer — ^' Here, you, Muggins ! what are your teeth chattering that way for?" 
 Muggins (first time under fire) — " C-c-can't help it, cap'n — I'm c-c-cold ! "'
 
 her. Yet I am sure there is hardly a man living who 
 would not be made happier to hear his wife say, " Dear, 
 I do wish you had a pew dress coat, but you do look aw- 
 fully strong and handsome in that one, as you do in 
 everything." R. B. 
 
 Chjvrge of the Fair Brigade. 
 
 BY MYRTLE CONGER. 
 
 (With apologies to the shade of Lord Tennyson.) 
 
 HALF a step, half a step. 
 Half a step onward! 
 Over there the bargains lie 
 On the counters piled so high. 
 Luring the unnumbered. 
 Forward the fair brigade ! 
 ' ' Charge through the aisles !" they cried. 
 (Three know what they want to buy — 
 Anxious unnumbered !) 
 
 Bargains to right of them ; 
 Bargains to left of them; 
 Bargains in front of them. 
 There to be plundered. 
 Storm they with right good-will; 
 Boldly they push and well; 
 Into the jaws of death. 
 Where the best bargains sell, 
 Push the unnumbered! 
 
 When will their courage fade? 
 
 Oh, the wild charge they made! 
 
 All the men wondered. 
 
 Yet " honored " all the charges made. 
 
 As oft before they'd paid 
 
 For their wives' plunder. 
 
 Forward the fair brigade! 
 
 Happy unnumbered ! 
 
 A Prospectus. 
 
 BY STUART B. STONE. 
 
 tt ^ S IS customary among publications," said the 
 Cobville Scimitar, " we will give a brief out- 
 line of what is in store during the coming 
 year for our subscribers, as well as 
 for the army of deadheads, embracing 
 the various local preachers, the county 
 correspondents that never write, the 
 editor's relatives, the patent-medicine 
 companies and the skinflint advertising 
 agents ; also Hamp Logsdon and Bart 
 Higbee, who borrow papers every Friday 
 morning, regular as sunshine. 
 
 " To begin with, the Scimitar will be 
 enlarged from four columns, six pages, 
 to six columns, four pages; and the type 
 that Bill Dugan mashed with an [empty 
 whiskey jug last Christmas will be 
 replaced by new material. As the 
 ' Cobville ' in our electrotyped head- 
 line was thrown through the front win- 
 dow and severely dented when Roaring 
 Bill Hemlock called on us the other 
 day, the name of this paper in future 
 will be merely the Scimitar. 
 
 " Many new art features will be 
 added. The editor's picture will be run 
 at the head of the editorial column, and 
 we have secured a cut of the court- 
 
 CHINESE TO HIM. 
 
 Farrell — " Kin ye make out phat th' inshcrlption manes, Dinny ? " 
 Finnigan—" Oi'm not quoite sure, but Oi think a free thranslatio 
 1,000 pairs av cuffs.'" 
 
 thranslation would be '2,000 shirts, 6.000 collars an
 
 •J^,
 
 heretofore, contain the choicest imagi- 
 native efforts of Colonel 1 m Brigga 
 and Tilkins, the lightning-rod agent. 
 In ' Heard on the Streets ' we wil[ en- 
 deavor to print the name of every 
 man who pays us money or good, sound 
 vegetables, cordwood, molasses and 
 tree sugar on subscription. ' Halls of 
 Death ' will continue to print obit- 
 uaries showing real sentiment and 
 humor, but these must be limited to 
 one page in length and to forty stanzas 
 of poetry. 
 
 " All in all, the Scimitar will con- 
 tinue to be the unterrified, uncon- 
 vincible, incorruptible organ of the 
 great common people. Now is the 
 time to subscribe, as we are needing 
 the money. One dollar cash, or one- 
 fifty where taken in farm and dairy 
 products." 
 
 SEEING THE SIGHTS. 
 
 Johnny — " That low building on the right, Uncle Peter, is our high school, 
 and the high structure on the left is the new Low Building." 
 
 Uncle Peter—" Guess we'd better git back to the house, Johnny. I'm 'fraid 
 I'm gittin' twisted." 
 
 house and the Golden Rule Store, to be 
 printed on special occasions. In addition, 
 we are considering the purchase of a can- 
 non and flag for the Fourth of July, and 
 pictures of Abe Lincoln and N. Bonaparte, 
 which, as is well known, will suffice for 
 many of our leading citizens. 
 
 " Early in the new year we will begin 
 the publication of a series of articles from 
 the pen of our esteemed merchant, Mr. Sam 
 Potter, on ' Well-known Customers of a 
 Corner Grocery.' The first of these 
 sketches is ' Dune Skaggs, the Prune 
 Eater,' and it abounds with gossipy, little- 
 known information. For instance, the 
 author declares that Mr. Skaggs has de- 
 voured 23,816 free prunes in the seventeen 
 years he has visited the Golden Rule. 
 Other articles in this series are ' Bill 
 Beeler, the Man Who Will Pay To-morrow,' 
 and ' Elijah Boone, the Borrower of To- 
 bacco.' 
 
 " We have arranged with Colonel Ellerby 
 Hawkes for a series of reminiscent papers 
 on ' Easy Marks Who Have Played Poker in 
 Cobville.' Other special features will be 
 'My Wife's Lifework,' by Saul Lazie ; and 
 ' Our Country — Can We Save It? ' a sym- 
 posium by the schoolmaster,' the colored 
 Baptist preacher, the jailer. Uncle Silas 
 Smith and the hardware drummer that 
 comes every Saturday. 
 
 " The usual interesting departments will 
 be continued. ' Our Noble Liars ' will, as 
 
 Knicker — "Bulgaria has "declared 
 itself independent of Turkey." 
 
 Henpekt — "I know just how it 
 feels." 
 
 ^^H 
 
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 B^v-^i 
 
 
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 ^ 
 
 --^^ 
 
 WOULD SPOIL IT ALL. 
 
 He — "When we are married I will put all my property in your 
 name." 
 
 S/ie — " The idea ! You know there is no fun spending one's 
 own money "
 
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 WOMAN'S RIGHTS. 
 
 Happiness. 
 
 'pHE YOUNG poet had just 
 finished what he consid- 
 ered to be a work of real in- 
 spiration, and, rising from his 
 tsble, he hastened upstairs to 
 where his little wife, a bride 
 of six weeks, was sitting darn- 
 ing his socks. 
 
 "Listen, sweetheart," he 
 v;hispered tenderly. " I have 
 just written this." 
 
 And he began to read. H« 
 put his whole soul into the 
 reading. His gestures were 
 graceful ; his intonation per- 
 fect. The whole spirit of his 
 beautiful poem breathed forth 
 as he threaded his way from 
 the beginning to the end of 
 
 his theme, and when he had finished he looked at her, 
 awaitiifg her verdict. 
 
 For a time she was silent. 
 
 " Well, dear heart," he said, " tell me what you are 
 thinking." 
 
 " I was wondering, dearest" 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " Whether the butcher was not awfully late with 
 that liver," she replied. 
 
 This British Spelling! 
 
 A SUNDAY-SCHOOL teacher named Beauchamp 
 To the woods took her children to teauchamp. 
 But sundry mosquitoes 
 Discovered her neat hose. 
 And stung her before she could reauchamp. 
 
 Kismet. 
 
 HOW OFTEN in the stilly night 
 I've barked my shins on every flight. 
 And cursed the irony of it, 
 '"hat I, and not the gas, was lit. 
 
 An Unfortunate Question. 
 
 A YOUNG Celt, just over from the old sod, applied 
 * at the office of a big New York establishment for 
 work. 
 
 " You say you have a brother working here in this 
 shop? What's his name?" inquired the superintenaeni. 
 
 "Murphy, sor." 
 
 " But there are several Murphys here. What kind of 
 a job has your brother? What does he do?"' 
 
 " Oi don't know what he does, but he calls it a — a 
 cinch job, sor." 
 
 ObUging, Yet Grateful. 
 
 ii ¥T IS very kind of you," said the lady to her stout 
 * husband as he knelt before her to put on her over- 
 shoes. 
 
 " Don't mention it, my dear," he replied. " Never- 
 theless, I am glad you are not a centipede." 
 
 No Danger. 
 
 Excited woman — " Are you going to run away with 
 me?" 
 
 Reckless driver (slightly in- 
 toxicated) — "Sorry, mum; 
 but^but I can't oblige you. 
 I'm mar-married already." 
 
 1*HE SUPERIOR person who 
 looks upon making love as 
 the occupation of fools is guilty 
 of contempt of court and should 
 be treated accordingly. 
 
 OPEN TO CONVICTION. 
 
 t< I^HEY say Baker is col 
 
 lecting old knockers.' 
 
 " I know it. I've met his 
 
 wife. 
 
 fr'^'^ 
 
 A COUPLE OF SPOONBILLS O.N THEIR 
 HONEYMOON. 
 " Ah, beloved, at last we are alone ! " 
 " Yes; far from the rubbering crowd 1 "
 
 A Gift without the Giver 
 
 By PORTER EMERSON BROWNE 
 
 (Author of "Daly, the Troubadour." "The Prodigal." and other stories.! 
 
 SLOWLY and bashfully, yet insistently, Mr. 
 Flannigan thrust his two hundred and thirty 
 pounds between a fat lady with many 
 I bundles and a thin lady without any, and 
 fronted, in diffident desperation, the tired 
 saleswoman, worn with Christmas shoppers 
 and fool questions. 
 "I want to git," he said mechanically, for it was 
 the eleventh time that he had repeated the remark in 
 that one store, "a prisint for a ilderly gintleman." 
 
 "Phonographs only at this counter," returned the 
 saleslady. "Do you want one of them?" 
 
 Mr. Flannigan rubbed a scraggy chin with a stumpy 
 finger. 
 
 "No," he said; and then, " What are they?" 
 "There's one playing now— at the end of the coun- 
 ter, there, " returned the saleswoman. ' ' C-a-a-a-a-a-ash ! 
 Say, Looey, d'yer 
 wanter keep this 
 lady waitin' all 
 night?" 
 
 Mr. Flannigan 
 edged his way 
 through throngs 
 of clustering fem- 
 ininity, obsessed 
 with the lust of 
 shopping, to the 
 end of the coun- 
 ter, and there re- 
 mained for a long 
 three minutes. 
 Then he edged his 
 way back again. 
 
 "How much 
 are they?" he de- 
 manded- of the 
 saleslady. 
 
 " All the way 
 from eleven-fifty 
 up," was the re- 
 sponse. " Records 
 is twenty-five, fif- 
 ty, seventy - five 
 and one dollar — 
 some one-fifty." 
 
 "Give me a 
 'liven-fifty wan," 
 requested Mr. 
 Flannigan. 
 
 " How many 
 records?" asked 
 the girl. 
 
 THE LATEST 
 Another case of 
 
 " Six — twinty-foive-cint wans." 
 
 " Any particular toons or recitations?" 
 
 " Pick me out some good, frish wans; thot's all." 
 
 And it was done. 
 
 It was not without excitement that, on Christmas 
 
 morning, Mr. Kerrigan opened the large wooden box 
 
 that contained the phonograph, and picked therefrom a 
 
 card. This he took to the only window in the flat that 
 
 admitted more than a semblance of daylight, and read: 
 
 To l\Ir. Martin Kerrigan, 
 
 from his old friend, 
 
 W. J. Flannigan. 
 
 MIRRY CHRISMUS. 
 
 Then he looked in the box. 
 
 "Now phwhat th' divvie!" he said; and then, " Ho- 
 
 noria, Honoria! 
 Phwhat d'yuh 
 make av this? 
 Do'n'd if Flanni- 
 gan ain't sint me 
 a tin horn and six 
 boxes av talcum 
 powdher ! Be hiv- 
 ins! avail tk' " — 
 But one glance 
 solved the mys- 
 tery for his eru- 
 dite and sophisti- 
 cated offspring. 
 
 "Oh!" she 
 cried delightedly, 
 "it's a phony- 
 graft!" 
 
 "A whatty- 
 graft?" queried 
 her father puz- 
 zledly. " Though 
 y e z c ' n thrust 
 ■Flannigan for get- 
 tin' nixt to anny 
 old koind av a 
 graft there is 
 aroond." 
 
 " It's a phony- 
 graft!" repeated 
 his daughter. " It 
 makes tunes and 
 things that sound 
 like real music. 
 Oh, let's try it! 
 Shall we?" 
 
 ARRIVAL. 
 
 swelled head.
 
 Her father grunted. 
 "Hilp yuhself," he 
 said; "go as far as yez 
 loikes. * * * phwhy 
 di'n' he sind me a gallon 
 av Mon'gahela loike Oi 
 sint him. Flannigan's a 
 good felly, but he ain't 
 got anny sinse, and always 
 was." 
 
 Trying to hide his in- 
 terest, and succeeding but 
 indifferently well, he 
 watched his daughter as- 
 semble the componpnt 
 parts of his Christmas 
 gift. And anon she turned 
 to him. 
 
 "There!" she said. 
 "It's all ready. Shall I 
 turn it on, or will you?" 
 
 " You c'n be th' shtart- 
 er, " he said, withlofty in- 
 difference; and, with a 
 little giggle of delighted 
 anticipation, she turned 
 the lever. 
 
 At first there was but 
 a raucous churning, and 
 then a vague and non-un- 
 derstandable announce- 
 ment, given in a metallic 
 baritone. Then a few 
 more throaty revolutions, 
 and there came from the 
 mouth of the horn : 
 
 " Dhrunk again, eh, ye big gaby?" 
 The next few words were lost in the sudden 
 angry " Phwhat's thot?" that came from the thin 
 of Mr. Kerrigan. 
 
 There followed from the phonograph : 
 " Don't talk to me, ye fat ould blathershkite! Yuh 
 folks would have been doin' this counthry a koindness 
 av they had shtrangled yez at burth. Yez ain't good 
 f'r nothin' — yez don't know nothin' — yez are a disgrace 
 to humanity and a practickle joke on mankoind!" 
 
 "Ain't it grand !" exclaimed his daughter; but Mr. 
 Kerrigan raised a clenched hand warningly. 
 
 " L'ave it finish," he commanded; " I'ave it finish. 
 Thot's all. Just l'ave it finish." 
 
 On chattered the phonograph blithely : 
 "So ye're gittin' mad, are ye, ye pin-headed ould 
 omadhoun? G'wan! Yez couldn't lick a postage 
 stamp! Yez ain't got loife enough tuh turn over in 
 bed! You foight? Huh! Me ould gran'mother licks 
 eight loike yez ivery marnin' before breakfast, just to 
 git a appetoite! You foight? Don't make me laff I" 
 
 And that was all. For out the window went the 
 phonograph, there sent by one blow from the heavy fist 
 of the enraged Mr. Kerrigan. 
 
 " Oh, father!" cried the girl, in surprised tearfulnass. 
 
 HIS OWN INTEREST AT HEART. 
 
 " Why did Conem advise Smith's daughter to go abroad 
 and study music ? He knows she has no talent." 
 
 "Why, you ought to be wise. He lives next door to 
 Smith." 
 
 and 
 lips 
 
 "Don't 'Oh, father!' 
 me!" stormed her parent, 
 as he reached wrathfully 
 for his hat. "Not aven 
 a dom'd machine c'n talk 
 to me loike thot an' git 
 away wid it! An' as for 
 
 that scut Flannigan " 
 
 * * * 
 
 It was afterward de- 
 clared, by those who were 
 fortunate enough to see it, 
 to be one of the prettiest 
 impromptu little affairs of 
 its kind that one may ever 
 hope to witness. 
 
 It lasted only one round, 
 to be sure; but that one 
 round endured for full fif- 
 teen minutes by the bar- 
 tender's watch, and he 
 was not the man to exag- 
 gerate. 
 
 That same gentleman 
 gave out the decision that 
 it was a draw, though sev- 
 eral spectators asserted 
 that the fight was clearly 
 Mr. Flannigan's on points. 
 
 Nor did there spring 
 from it a feud. For after 
 the battle, you know, there 
 was ample time and ample 
 leisure for explanation and 
 elucidation; and the bar- 
 tender, who was a large 
 man and who had a phonograph of his own, undertook, 
 and successfully, to pour oil on the troubled waters, 
 the while putting beefsteak on a troubled eye. 
 ****** 
 
 Mr. Flannigan slowly, twingingly, reached for the 
 Mon'gahela bottle. 
 
 " Th' nixt toime Oi give a Chris'mas prisint loike 
 thot," he declared, "it'll be to a Orangey, on Saint 
 Pathrick's Day; and Oi'll know what Oi'm givin', be 
 hivins! * * * Pass th' pitcher, Martin. That's th' 
 b'y." 
 
 Fairly Good Size. 
 
 it ¥ HEARD that your rich uncle gave you a good- 
 sized check for Christmas," says the man with 
 
 the sharp nose and the interrogative eyes. 
 
 " Yes," answers the man with the square chin and 
 
 the glad smile. 
 
 " I suppose as rich a man as he is could send you a 
 
 pretty big check?" 
 
 " Yes. This was a good-sized one, for a fact." 
 
 " If it's a fair question, how big was it?" 
 
 " Three inches wide by eight inches long — he has 
 
 them engraved for himself specially, you know."
 
 Reflections of Uncle Ezra 
 
 By ROY K. MOULTON 
 
 NOBODY ever knows a poet is alive until he is 
 dead. 
 I see a New York woman has offered a prize 
 for the best skin food. The best skin food I 
 know of is oranges or bananners. 
 
 Why are folks makin' so much fuss about the great 
 achievement of buildin' a tunnel under the East River? 
 It would be a blame sight more remarkable if somebody 
 should build a tunnel over it. 
 
 Most of the big guns in the navy are smooth bores, 
 and, by heck! most of the big guns in politics are 
 smooth bores, too. 
 
 There was a poker party to Anse Hilliker's house one 
 night last week, and they used cold pancakes for chips. 
 While Anse was dealin' a hand, his youngest kid slipped 
 up behind him and ate up $33.65. 
 
 Elmer Spink stuttered something fierce and wanted 
 to cure it, so he got married and hasn't had a chance to 
 stutter since. 
 
 If you want to find out for sure whether you are a 
 great writer, write a book and lyrics for a musical 
 comedy. If some manager produces it you are not a 
 great writer. 
 
 About the most em- 
 barrasflin' thing I 
 know of is for a feller 
 to accidentally drop 
 his false teeth in the 
 soup at a church oys- 
 ter supper. 
 
 The styles in plug 
 hats change so often 
 that a feller can hard- 
 ly wear one more than 
 once or twice before 
 it is away behind the 
 times. Hod Peters 
 only wore his once— 
 the time Grover Cleve- 
 land was first elected 
 — and it ain't in styh 
 at all now. 
 
 Methuselah ain't 
 entitled to so much 
 credit, after all, when 
 we stop to think there 
 were no forty-candle- 
 power oatmobiles 
 chasin' around the as- 
 phalt in his day and 
 age. 
 
 Almost everything 
 has a mission in life, 
 exceptin' mission fur- 
 niture. 
 
 Out here in the tall 
 grass the smoke nui- 
 
 sance is mostly confined to the old women. Grandma 
 Whipple is 109 years of age, and has smoked and Fletch- 
 erized the weed all the days of her life. 
 
 The trouble with an oatmobile is that when it gets 
 to be six months old it is nine years behind the style. 
 
 Hank Tumms says his wife's coffee is so bad that 
 there are plenty of grounds for divorce. 
 
 Hod Peters has a new fall suit. William Tibbitts 
 has started it agin him for a grocery bill. 
 
 William Tibbitts, our popular and congenial grocery- 
 man, has got a new stock of thermometers, but ain't 
 sellin' many of them. Any feller that has to go and 
 rubber at a thermometer to find out whether he is hot or 
 cold, must be a plumb fool. 
 
 Uncle Eben Harkins got a photograph of his brother 
 out West the other day, but throwed it away, thinkin' 
 somebody had sent him a comic valentine. 
 
 Hank Purdy says the difference between a clock and 
 a woman is that a clock will run itself down if it gets 
 a chance, and a woman will run somebody else down. 
 
 City folks don't have to can fruit like us country 
 folks do, bekuz they can find plenty of preserved peaches 
 
 in the choruses of 
 the musical - comical 
 shows. 
 
 There is a special 
 job for shorthand writ- 
 ers in heaven. They 
 have to turn in and 
 help the recordin' an- 
 gel every four years 
 durin' the national 
 campaigns. 
 
 An Author's 
 Christmas. 
 
 ^ " bier, old boy, 
 how did Santa use 
 you?" 
 
 " Not very gen- 
 erously. I got three 
 rejections, two dollars 
 for a joke and a dun 
 from the butcher." 
 
 ..gl 
 
 A VERY MODERN CHIi D. 
 Father — "^ Tommy, what do you want f jr Ch nstmas this year ?'' 
 Tommy — " I'm going to ask Santa Clans to gi\ e me a divorce, 'cai 
 Jane and I have quarreled so much lately. " 
 
 iROWN is the 
 most narrow- 
 minded man I ever 
 met." 
 
 "So?" 
 
 " Yes. Whenever 
 two thoughts get into 
 his head at the same 
 time they bump into 
 eacn other."
 
 THE JOURNEY'S BEGINNING. 
 
 WHEN the good saint sails from the very north 
 To the shore where his steeds are standing, 
 The wild waves sing like a deep bassoon, 
 And the ice-floes clash and the sea-gulls crocn. 
 And the weird lights flash to his fleet ballDon, 
 As it flits toward the frozen landing. 
 
 And a mermaid blows him a far-oflf kiss, 
 
 On a wave-tossed ice-floe rocking; 
 And she sighs to a seal, as she strokes its back, 
 " There goes old Kris, with a bulging pack. 
 But why should he stop for us, alack ! 
 
 When none of us wears a stocking ?" 
 
 BUKGBS JOHNSON.
 
 The Surprise 
 
 By LURANA W. SHELDON 
 
 THE WEEK before Christmas Hezekiah Appleby 
 took his neighbor, Deacon White, into his con- 
 fidence. 
 
 " It's a leetle lonesome at home, deacon," 
 be began. " Now that Maria is married an' livin' up 
 at Pickleville, an' Amos is away tew school, me an' 
 Hannah ain't as chipper as we mout be, an' I wuz think- 
 in' I'd like tew brighten things up a bit fer Christmas. 
 Make it a leetle more as it used tew be," he added. 
 
 The deacon chewed a straw reflectively, and a nod 
 of the head showed that he appreciated the situation. 
 
 " Yew know how ther children used tew s'prise us 
 with presents on Christmas Day?" went on Hezekiah. 
 
 " Tew be sure they used tew," was the answer, with 
 another nod. 
 
 "Wa-al, Iwuz thinkin' I'd s'prise Hannah jest that 
 there way," said Hezekiah, a little sheepishly. " 'Pears 
 tew me 'twould brighten things up a leetle an' kinder 
 keep us younger in our minds than jest a-settin' thinkin' 
 of how things used tew be." 
 
 " I coincide with them there idees of yours, Brother 
 Appleby," remarked the deacon with emphasis. 
 " There's nothin' freshens the interest in life like a sur- 
 prise. Have yew thought up what ther surprise is tew 
 be, Hezekiah?" 
 
 The farmer stroked his chin whiskers softly. The 
 sheepishness had left his face and his eyes were twink- 
 ling. 
 
 " That there is ther drawback," he said softly. "I 
 
 can't think of a doggoned thing that Hannah wants. 
 Yew kin call her a curus woman that way. Ef yew 
 should ask her a dozen times a day ef there wuz any- 
 thing she wanted, she'd say every time, ' There ain't 
 nothin' except I'd like tew have ther children back far 
 a leetle while.' Of course 'tain't in reason tew expect 
 that, but what I'm tew give Hannah is ther question. I 
 'lowed yew mout help me out, deacon. That's why I let 
 yew intew ther secret." 
 
 " I won't tell," said the deacon, and then a twinkle 
 came into his own eyes as he asked, 
 
 " How'd a big Brahma rooster suit yew, Hezekiah? 
 I know Mis Appleby wants one, 'cause she told my wife 
 near a month ago she 'lowed she'd get another." 
 
 " Where'dlgit one?" asked Hezekiah quickly. " Yew 
 don't want tew part with none of yours, dew yew?" 
 
 " I reckon I would ef yew are dead sot on havin' 
 him," said the deacon, putting his hand up to his mouth 
 to hide a smile from his neighbor. " I've got a big 
 feller yew kin have fer a dollar-fifty. That is cheap- 
 er'n dirt, but bein' it's yew " 
 
 " I'll take it, an' I'm obleeged tew yew," interrupt- 
 ed the other, as he drew out a bandanna and extracted 
 some money from one corner. 
 
 The very next day after this conversation Deacon 
 White met Hannah Appleby as she was walking home 
 from a quilting bee at the parsonage. 
 
 " Coin' tew be a sorter gloomy Christmas fer yew. 
 Mis Appleby, ain't it?" he asked, after the greetings. 
 
 A DISCONCERTING QUESTION. 
 
 Father — " Wasn't Santa Claus good to bring you all these things r" 
 
 Johnny (quaveringly, and looking earnestly at his trains of cars, tin soldiers, games, books, sets of blocks, patrol 
 wagons, mechanical toys, plaster schoolhouses, Noah's Arks, music boxes, toy phonographs, trolley cars, Teddy Bears, 
 picture cards, candy boxes, soldier suits, bows and arrows, toy gun», and other things too numerous to mention) — 
 " Yes ; but ain't you an' ma goin' ter give me nothin' ?"
 
 IN ARIZONA. _ 
 
 Santa Claus — "Mighty Michael ! This is the last Christ- 
 mas Jelivery I'll make in a country that's too hot for reindeer." 
 
 " Yes, it is, deacon; an' I wuz jest a-wonderin' how 
 I cculd brighten it a leetle," confessed the lady. 
 " 'Tain't so hard fer me as it is fer Hezekiah," she 
 added. " Poor man! He misses ther children somethin' 
 awful!" 
 
 " Why don't yew surprise him with a Christmas 
 present?" asked the deacon, as he inspected a snow- 
 bank at the side of the road. "Yew know how ther 
 children used tew dew. Git him a Christmas gift, an' 
 
 don't let him know nothin' about it until Christmaa 
 mornin'." 
 
 " What'U I git him, deacon?" asked Mrs. Appleby, 
 with her face brightening. "That's ther blessedeat 
 suggestion yew ever made," she added. 
 
 " How'd a big Brahma rooster do?" asked the deacon, 
 still inspecting the snow-bank. 
 
 "The very thing! Yew couldn't have thought of 
 anything better!" exclaimed Mrs. Appleby. 
 
 " I'll let yew have one of mine," said the deacon, 
 " the biggest one on ther place, fer a dollar-fifty. Is 
 that tew steep. Mis Appleby?" 
 
 " It's a good price fer a rooster as roosters go, but 
 mebbe he's worth it," said Mrs. Appleby thoughtfully. 
 "I'll take him, deacon, an' here's the money. Mind 
 yew don't hint nothin' tew Hezekiah, now!" 
 
 The deacon nodded, pocketed the sum, and said good- 
 day soon after. 
 
 The day before Christmas Hezekiah became almost 
 hilarious in his demeanor. The anticipation of Han- 
 nah's surprise had already made him feel younger, and 
 in the afternoon he visited the village store and bought 
 a yard of red ribbon. 
 
 " I reckon yew mout tie this here ribbon around ther 
 Brahma somehow when yew send him over tew-morrer, 
 deacon," he whispered, when he discovered his neighbor 
 in the back yard of his home sawing a few logs for the 
 fireplace. 
 
 " I'll tie it on, but I won't promise it'll stay," was 
 the answer, and Hezekiah was too elated to notice that 
 the deacon was a little uneasy in his manner. 
 
 Christmas morning, while Hezekiah was doing the 
 chores, Hannah slipped over to the deacon's. 
 
 " Here's a holly wreath," she said, taking it out from 
 under her apron. " 1 made it mysdf. Can't yew git it 
 over ther Brahma's head somehow, deacon? It'll look 
 jest that much more Christmassy." 
 
 "I'll try," was the answer, and the deacon looked 
 more disturbed than ever, but Hannah was in such a 
 hurry that she could not possibly observe it. 
 
 When the chores were done and the dishes washed, 
 Hezekiah and Hannah repaired to the sitting-room. 
 
 They were both thinking of the surprise they had 
 planned, when Deacon White's hired man came up the 
 walk, carrying a bushel basket. 
 
 " Here's your Christmas present, Hannah!" Hezekiah 
 
 CAUGHT WITH THE GOODS ON.
 
 remarked gayly as the door opened, and 
 at the same moment Hannah called out 
 gleefully, " Here's a leetle s 'prise fer 
 yew, Hezekiah!" 
 
 Then the cover of the basket burst off, 
 and a big Brahma rooster attempted to 
 fly out, but his wings were hampered so 
 by a yard of red ribbon and a wreath of 
 holly that he only flopped out helplessly. 
 
 The hired man disappeared before ex- 
 planations were forthcoming. Hannah 
 told her story first as she disentangled the 
 rooster. 
 
 " I thought yew'd like him, an' I jest 
 put ther wreath on him fer fun," she 
 began. 
 
 "An' I bought him fer yew, an' I put 
 ther ribbon on him fer ther same rea- 
 son," broke in Hezekiah. 
 
 Then they stared at each other. 
 
 " How much did yew pay fer him?" 
 asked Hezekiah. 
 
 " A dollar an' fifty cents, cash down," 
 was the answer. 
 
 Her husband did not make any com- 
 ment, but Bat and stroked his whiskers 
 gently. 
 
 " I reckon I'd better see ther deacon 
 erbout it," said she, after a minute, but 
 Hezekiah stopped her. 
 
 " We'll jest enjoy our s'prise, both on 
 us, tew-day," he eaid slowly; "an' tew- 
 morrer, when I'm feelin' a leetle less 
 happy, I 'low I'll make it a p'int tew see ther deacon 
 myself, Hannah!" 
 
 A Humane Man. 
 
 OHE HANDED him his evening clothes. They had 
 *^ been packed away all summer with a moth-exter- 
 minating compound. As the odor of tar and camphor 
 assailed him, his face grew sad. 
 
 " What troubles you, dear?" asked the wife. 
 
 " I am thinking of these clothes." 
 
 " It seems to me that you ought to look pleased. 
 There are certainly no moths in them." 
 
 "It's my sympathetic nature," said the man. "I 
 cannot help it. Sometimes it leads me to aTosurd ex- 
 tremes, as in the present instance. Of course I'm glad 
 the moths are gone, but," he added, with a deep sigh, 
 " they must have found it a horrible death!" 
 
 One Left. 
 
 << OANTA CLAUS brought me a little baby sister 
 *^ for Christmas," confides the small girl from 
 next door. 
 
 " He did? That was fine!" answers the neighbor. 
 "Yes; an' it's th' only present me an' Freddie got 
 that papa hasn't broken already windin' it up an' show- 
 in' us how it runs." 
 20 
 
 
 ? 
 
 ■Rn; . - 
 
 • 
 
 - 
 
 J 
 
 AN INQUISITIVE MIND. 
 "I wonder what that ball is down there?'' 
 
 Color-blind. 
 
 By JOHN KENDRICK BANGS. 
 
 I 
 
 'M 
 
 color-blind as I can be — 
 I know not red from green. 
 I could not tell an amber sea 
 From one that's plain marine. 
 I could not tell you if you asked the color of my ink. 
 But well I know, though blind I be, that Phyllis's chaak 
 is pink. 
 
 When sunset paints the evening skies 
 
 In wondrous symphonies. 
 And all the prism seems to rise 
 From out the misty seas, 
 I know not one from t'other, but I need not e'er be told. 
 Despite this awful blindness, that my Phyllis's hair Is 
 gold. 
 
 When autumn comes upon the scene, 
 
 And with her frosty brush 
 Turns all the tender summer green 
 On hedge, and tree and bush 
 To gorgeous, flashing hues that seem by Titian's genius 
 
 spread, 
 I know it not, but I can see that Phyllis's lips are red. 
 
 And when the broad and kindly dome 
 
 Of heaven rears above, 
 And speaks of that supernal home 
 Where dwells eternal love. 
 They tell me it is blue, and I believe the story true, 
 For have I not rejoiced to know that Phyllis's eyes wera 
 blue?
 
 CHRISTMAS JOY FOR THE GROCER 
 
 1. Mrs. Nibble samples everything in sight- 
 
 The Hairoic Poet. 
 
 By VV. D. NESBIT. 
 
 HE WROTE a sonnet to his lady's hair. 
 He vowed that it was finer than spun 
 gold; 
 That summer sunshine could not be more fair, 
 For it the sunshine's rarest gleams could 
 hold. 
 He sighed full deeply in his sore despair 
 
 Because he could not get the praises told 
 Of her bright ringlets, which had formed a 
 snare 
 To mesh his heart within their argent fold. 
 
 Alas! One day a willful gust of wind 
 
 Came pranking by and left her head all 
 bare! 
 
 No more in praise of curls his lute he'll pitch. 
 For that bold breeze, ungentle and unkind, 
 
 Had proven to him that concerning hair 
 
 He did not know exactly which was switch. 
 
 Felt the After-effects Coming, 
 
 ««/%H, WILLIE!" exclaimed the little girl 
 ^^ next door, " come on over and help me 
 
 play with my Christmas things." 
 
 "Don't bother me now! I just had my 
 
 Christmas dinner, and I want to be left alone!" 
 
 Getting Even. 
 
 l^ffR. KILLJOY awakens along ^bout three 
 o'clock Christmas morning, and to 
 his great surprise sees Santa Claus at his 
 bedside. 
 
 " What are you doing here?" he asks. 
 
 "I have brought you," gays Santa, "a 
 yellow necktie with cross stripes of pink, 
 a pipe that you can't smoke, some cigars 
 made of vegetables that originally were in- 
 tended for stewing, a pair of slippers that 
 would fit hams, a bathrobe that you can't 
 get into and half a dozen smeary-looking 
 Christmas cards." 
 
 "What! Why in the name of time do 
 you unload that junk on me? Why don't 
 you give me something worth having?" 
 
 "Because," Santa retorted fiercely, 
 " you've been going around among the chil- 
 dren for a month or so, telling them there 
 isn't any such man as Santa Claus." 
 
 All the Same. 
 
 (I \Af HAT is the size of your large men's 
 ~ ' handkerchiefs?" asks the shopper. 
 " They are just the same size as the 
 small men's handkerchiefs, madam," ex- 
 plains the affable salesperson. "The size 
 of the man doesn't make any difference in 
 his handkerchief." 
 
 Crawford — " What do you expect to get for 
 Christmas?" 
 
 Uncle 'Rastus — " Six months ef I's dun gits 
 kotched wif dese chickuns." 
 
 -And then orders a pint of cranberries delivered at once.
 
 Under the Christmas Tree 
 
 By JOHN KENDRICK BANGS 
 
 u 
 
 H 
 
 'ULLO, Trumpy !" said the Tin Soldier to the 
 Trumpet, as he looked around him to see 
 who had come to sit in the shade of Bob- 
 bie's Christmas Tree on Christmas Eve. 
 " When did you blow in?" 
 
 " I came with the Rubber Band early in the evening, 
 but I don't thinlc I shall stay," replied the Trumpet. 
 
 "What's the matter? Anything gone wrong?" 
 asked the Tin Soldier. 
 
 "No; but the leader wants me to play duets with 
 the Shoe Horn, and he has no music in his sole," said 
 the Trumpet, with a wink at the 
 Monkey-on-a-Stick. 
 
 " He's stronger on his upper 
 notes than you are," said the 
 Toy Cannon; "but I don't won- 
 der at your leaving. I'm going 
 to resign myself. I want to do 
 it before I am discharged." 
 
 " I wish you Toys would shut 
 up," said the Wooden Noah, 
 sticking his head out of the Ark. 
 " You've waked up the Jack 
 Rabbit with your noise, and he's 
 kicked the Elephant out of 
 bed." 
 
 " Well, what if he has? 
 Can't the Elephant put a sofa 
 cushion on his trunk and go to 
 sleep on that?" demanded the 
 Monkey-on-a-Stick. 
 
 "I never thought of that," 
 said Noah. 
 
 " You naturally 
 
 with your wooden head," said 
 
 the Tin Soldier. " Say, what are you, anyhow — Georgia 
 
 Pine?" 
 
 "No; I'm rather Spruce just at present," said Noah, 
 with a broad smile at his own joke. 
 
 " Gee ! What a joke !" cried the Monkey-on-a-Stick. 
 " If that's the best you can do, I should think you'd feel 
 like a chestnut." 
 
 "Let him alone, Monk," put in the French Doll. 
 " He can't help his jokes. Of course they come out of 
 the Ark." 
 
 "AH right, Tow-head," returned the Monkey-on-8- 
 Stick. " He's a cousin of yours, ain't he?" 
 
 " Not that I know of," said the Doll. " What made 
 you think so?" 
 
 " Oh, somebody told me you both had the same saw- 
 dust in your veins," said the Monkey. 
 
 " Oh, well," said the Doll amiably, " you'll be in the 
 family yourself pretty soon, I reckon." 
 "What! Me?" said the Monkey. 
 " Yes, you!" returned the Doll. " Anybody can see 
 that you are stuck on a stick." 
 
 " Well, I don't have to be 
 punched in the chest before I 
 can begot to talk," retorted the 
 Monkey. " Why, look who's 
 here!" he added, as the Teddy 
 Bear came along. " Old Button- 
 Eyes! What's bruin, Teddy?" 
 
 " Trouble for anybody in this 
 crowd that sasses my fiancee," 
 growled the Bear, putting both 
 arms around the French Doll and 
 glaring at the Monkey. 
 
 " She's your honey, eh?" 
 laughed the Monkey. 
 
 "That's what!" said the 
 Bear, giving Flaxilocks a good 
 hug. 
 
 " Must be made of beeswax!" 
 grinned the Monkey. 
 
 The Teddy Bear made a jump 
 
 for the Monkey-on-a-Stick, and 
 
 in less than a minute the two 
 
 in a rough-and- 
 
 AN UNFORTUNATE WISH, 
 wouldn't, "To t'inkdat all last summer I wanted a job like dis!" were engaged 
 
 tumble fight that so alarmed 
 everybody that the Whistle blew three blasts, summon- 
 ing the little red Patrol Wagon; and that is why, when 
 he woke up the next morning, Bobbie found the Monkey 
 and the Teddy Bear inside the small toy Station House 
 that his Uncle Bill had asked Santa Glaus to leave 
 under the tree for him. 
 
 << ¥F THE President dies who gets the job?' 
 * "The Vice-President." 
 "No*; the undertaker. " 
 
 A JOINT DEBATE.
 
 How Quiet Reigned 
 
 << /^H, YES," replied the groom, smiling sadly, " we 
 ^^ had a quiet holiday wedding. The ever-truthful 
 papers remarked it at the time. Still, it might have 
 been quieter, perhaps. There is nothing like a little 
 foresight, and we had guarded against any fuss, and 
 particularly wanted to get away from the house without 
 a burst of acclaim. 
 
 " Well, we knew there would be a bunch at the door 
 with rice and stuff, so I had fixed a ladder at the window 
 of the room in which the presents were cold-storaged, 
 and had an auto waiting in the alley. The ladder worked 
 fine, but just as I was lifting Lucy off, the thing lost its 
 balance and fell across the conservatory. They say you 
 can hear a pin drop. You can, by a reasonable amount 
 of listening, hear a ladder drop across a conservatory. 
 The old folks hadn't been let in on the ladder part of the 
 scheme, and didn't tumble with it. The old lady looked 
 into the room, saw the open window, retreated so rapidly 
 that she knocked a set of presentation china off the table 
 and then, getting to 
 the head of the stairs, 
 yelled 'Burglars!' to 
 the guests, and rolled 
 all the way down into 
 their midst. Papa-in- 
 law rushed out and 
 fired a couple of shots 
 at us before we could 
 establish relationship. 
 Now most of these in- 
 cidents were more or 
 less audible. Some- 
 body telephoned for 
 the police, and a patrol 
 wagon came gonging 
 up just as the auto be- 
 gan to move. Before 
 we'd got a real good 
 start, the chauffeur 
 ran into a milk wag- 
 on, overturning it and 
 shattering a million 
 bottles; and what this 
 didn't do toward mar- 
 ring the quietude we 
 had devised, the lan- 
 guage of the milkman 
 seemed likely to do. 
 While I was trying to 
 pacify him and telling 
 him to hush before he 
 had mussed a festal 
 occasion all up, a cop- 
 per arrested me and 
 the chauffeur for be- 
 ing on the wrong side 
 of the street, and the 
 
 By HENRY JAMES 
 
 wedding guests who came to bail us out brought a subsi- 
 dized Salvation Army band with them. 
 
 " Oh, it was a quiet wedding, all right. Call around 
 and see us. Lucy is over the hysterics caused by the 
 depressing calm of the function. But don't say anything 
 about this quiet business, will you? Lucy might have a 
 relapse." 
 
 No Hard Feelings. 
 
 ^^OMING to a sudden stop, the driver of the automo- 
 ^^ bile jumps out of his machine and runs back to 
 where his victims lie upon the ground. But one of them 
 is alive, and he is seriously hurt. 
 
 "I'm profoundly sorry this happened," says the man 
 from the automobile, " but it was an accident I could 
 not avoid. I am deeply sorry, and I hope you will allow 
 me to settle whatever damages there are, and that you 
 will not feel harshly toward me." 
 
 " It's all right, friend," sighs the surviving victim. 
 
 " That other man was 
 my rich uncle and I 
 am his only heir, and, 
 besides, I have been 
 carrying a hundred- 
 dollar-a-week accident 
 policy for ten years. 
 This is the first time 
 I could ever get ac- 
 tion on it. If your 
 machine is broken, I'll 
 pay half the repair 
 bill." 
 
 Thwarted Her. 
 
 <t I BELIEVE, just 
 for a joke," 
 says the wife, " that 
 I'll show you folks the 
 love-letter John sent 
 me with his first 
 Christmas present to 
 me." 
 
 "Yes, do," sug- 
 gests John grimly, 
 winking at the guests ; 
 " and I'll go up to the 
 attic and get that 
 hand-painted necktie 
 you sent me at the 
 same time." 
 
 A WASTE OF DAYS. 
 Boss — " What are you crying about ?' 
 
 Office boy — " My grandmother's dead, ar^d she's going to be 
 buried on a holiday I'' 
 
 "I 
 
 WASHED my 
 hair to-day." 
 " And now a load 
 is off your mind."
 
 f^wmmmm^B0^^
 
 The Reporter's Christmas Story 
 
 By r. P. PITZER 
 
 IT WAS Christmas Eve! 
 Snowflakes were falling thick and fast. 
 In front of an old rustic church, boxes of matches 
 in his little white hands, stood a boy. 
 
 He had been standing there many hours, but no one 
 seemed to pay any attention to his feeble cry of *' A-ny 
 mat-ches, boss?" The little fellow in the tattered 
 garments was passed by unnoticed. 
 
 Poor lad! There he was out in the cold, while other 
 little boys were in their warm, comfortable homes, sur- 
 rounded by happy relatives and friends, with a big 
 Christmas tree loaded with costly gifts. And here in 
 the cold stood an honest little fellow, whose one thought 
 was to earn a few pennies with which to make his 
 mother's lonely heart happy on this eventful night. 
 
 The poor match-boy had almost despaired, when he 
 espied, coming down the street, a well-dressed man, his 
 head concealed beneath a high silk tile, the lower part 
 of his face buried in the warm astrakhan collar of a 
 costly overcoat. 
 
 Ob reaching the boy he stopped. At last the shiver- 
 
 ing little salesman met one who sympathized with 
 him. 
 
 "My boy, why are you out in this treacherous 
 weather, selling matches?' 
 
 In a few words the lad told his pitiful tale. The 
 man's heart had been reached. Tears trickled down his 
 ice-cold cheeks. He put his hand in his inside coat 
 pocket, extracted therefrom a fat wallet and was about 
 to hand the youngster a crisp ten-dollar bill, when there 
 came a cry of — " COPY!" 
 
 Accordingly the writer of this story had to cut it 
 short abruptly, as it was almost time for the paper to 
 go to press and all specials had to go in at once. 
 
 And thus a poor boy was robbed of a large sum of 
 money, simply because a reporter had to cut his copy 
 short in order to satisfy a waiting compositor. 
 
 Such is fate ! 
 
 IT IS not surprising, considering the varied number of 
 typewriting machines on the market, that literature 
 should become somewhat mechanical. 
 
 PUBLIC VICE. 
 "Laveth' Prisidint attind th' juties he's elicted fur, says I. But whin !t comes t' takin' a 
 wallop out av th' wrong-dom's, I says, av th' mallyfactories, thot's th ' worruk, says I, av th' Vice- 
 Prisidmt"
 
 THE ROMANCE OF A PAIR OF SKATES. 
 
 5^ 
 
 ■Si Thi5 p; 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 1. The affinity. 
 
 excite a lot o' sympathy when I got it strapped on. It 
 was worth four dollars a day to me, that leg was; but, 
 now it's gone, I'm the dead-brokest beggar in ninety- 
 seven counties," explained the beggar. 
 
 Whereupon Pinkerton gave the fellow a dollar. This 
 at first seems an extravagant sum to give to a man like 
 that, but in this case it was not so, for Pinkerton is a 
 writer by trade, and he knew he could put the incident 
 into words and sell it to some editor for ten or eleven 
 dollars. 
 
 His Impression. 
 
 ttVTES," said the fair young thing; " that Christmas 
 punch you just tasted is made from a recipe 
 that has been treasured in the family for centuries. 
 The earliest authentic record we have of it was in the 
 lifetime of iny great-greatever-so-great-grandfather, 
 whose suit of armor stands in the hall." 
 
 "If he drank much of that punch," observes the 
 young man, who has had t"wo glasses of it, " he must 
 have wished he was wearing that armor on his inside 
 instead of his outside." 
 
 2. Love's sweet dream. 
 
 3. Married. 
 
 Pinkerton's Charity. 
 
 By JOHN KENDRICK BANGS. 
 
 IT WAS a raw, stormy night. Mr. Pinkerton was 
 walking home from the club, after a fine dinner 
 that put him on good terms with himself and with 
 the world, when he was accosted by a big, burly chap, 
 who requested financial assistance. 
 
 " Say, mister, can't ye help a pore feller what's lost 
 his leg?" the beggar whined, as Pinkerton passed along. 
 
 "Lost a leg?" retorted Pinkerton, eying the man 
 suspiciously. " Why, you have two legs, haven't you?" 
 
 To all appearances the man certainly had. 
 
 "Yes, sir," returned the beggar, with a mournful 
 smile that stirred Pinkerton's heart. " I've got two of 
 'em left, sir; but my best one — ah, that is gone forever ! 
 I lost it in a railway accident, sir." 
 
 " For heaven's sake, what were you before this ca- 
 tastrophe happened?" cried Pinkerton. " A centipede?" 
 
 " No, sir. Just a plain, ordinary human bein', sir. 
 The leg I lo^'t, sir, was a wooden one, sir, and it used to 
 
 
 4. Divorced.
 
 Cheese It. 
 
 A PIECE of irony sufficiently delicate to be worthy of quotation 
 ** recently came from a New York critic. An aspiring young 
 poet, who had met the critic in question, wrote a satire in emulation 
 of Homer's " Battle of the Frogs and Mice." The young poet thought 
 he would go " one better " than Homer, and described in most realistic 
 style the warfare between two factions of mites inhabiting a piece of 
 cheese. 
 
 He sent the manuscript to the critic with a request for that dis- 
 tinguished person's opinion. In a few days the answer came. 
 
 " My dear sir," wrote the critic, " I have read your satire and am 
 delighted with it. You are worthy to be called the Gorgon-Zola of 
 literature." 
 
 Mistletoe helps the man who helps himself. 
 
 ^v.-- 
 
 
 T^/KONB ^P 
 
 Her lips were like a red, red rose, 
 Like stars her eyes of blue ; 
 
 Her neck was like the graceful swan's. 
 I loved her. Wouldn't you ? 
 
 DRAMATIC POSSIBILITIES. 
 " Don't stand there looking like a fool. 
 Run and get a moving-picture man — I'm 
 
 going to fall !" 
 
 Where Mamma Lost. 
 
 (< A UNT EMMY," said the little 
 angel, " mamma has thought of 
 the nicest kind of a present for you." 
 
 " Has she?" asked Aunt Emmy, who 
 was nearly forty, but looked thirty-five 
 and said she was twenty-eight. 
 
 " Yes; she said it would be the best 
 thing in the world if Santa Claus would 
 only bring you a husband." 
 
 It was at that moment that Aunt 
 Emmy concluded to send her sister-in- 
 law a nice, inexpensive Christmas card 
 instead of the silver punch bowl she 
 had selected. 
 
 In the Days of the Past. 
 
 HAND in hand, with the march of 
 time. 
 Come many sweeping changes. 
 The stoves that prehistoric man once 
 used 
 Were simply mountain ranges.
 
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 Nuts for Santa To Crack 
 
 By PERRINC LAMBERT 
 
 THE Twentieth Cen- 
 tury youngster 
 carefully placed a 
 new ribbon in his type- 
 writer, oiled the 
 machine thoroughly and 
 began : 
 
 Dear Santa Claus 
 — I have about every- 
 thing I want or need 
 this Christmas, and in 
 lieu of a collection of 
 gifts I wish you would 
 deliver the answers to 
 a number of questions 
 which have bewildered 
 me almost from my 
 infancy. 
 
 How can you possibly 
 get down our chimney, 
 when I experienced 
 great difficulty in con- 
 vincing sister's pet 
 poodle that the trip could be made successfully? 
 
 Why do you give so many presents to those who have 
 money to buy them, and so few to those who cannot 
 spare the money? 
 
 How do you manage to sail over oceans, mountains 
 and housetops, when my natural history is suspiciously 
 silent on the subject of reindeers' wings? 
 
 What excuse can you 
 offer for bringing fa- 
 ther something for 
 mother's house, and pre- 
 senting mother with a 
 gift for her personal use 
 only? 
 
 Why do you stack 
 your collection of toys 
 in the stores, thus al- 
 lowing the children to 
 see them long before 
 the holidays? 
 
 How is it that you 
 can appear simulta- 
 neously in the toy sec- 
 tions of the various de- 
 partment stores? 
 
 Why do you live at 
 the North Pole, when it 
 is an accepted fact that 
 the best toys are made 
 in Germany? 
 Don't you feel silly sleighing in Florida, where there 
 isn't any snow? 
 
 And as the final question, but not necessarily the 
 most unimportant one, why do you keep your clothes and 
 whiskers in that old trunk in our storeroom? 
 Anxiously yours, 
 
 Chalmot Gunson, Jr. 
 
 The Remnant of a Man 
 
 By FRANK R. WALTON 
 
 THE SPEAKER said, "Lend me your ears!" 
 I loaned 'em, though I had my fears. 
 Oh, such a world of wicked men ! 
 I never got 'em back again. 
 
 The ears he had seemed very fine — 
 Why should the rascal care for mine? 
 
 I riveted my eyes on him, 
 And then my sight grew very dim. 
 The rivets he could not undo. 
 Although he tried a week or two! 
 
 I'm sure you will not feel surprised 
 
 When I remark I miss those eyes. 
 
 Soon after at a dinner gay 
 
 I gave my arm to young Miss May. 
 
 She thought it was a souvenir! 
 
 You see, I haven't got it here. 
 
 She took my arm, but left my sleeve, 
 It's hollow, as you will perceive. 
 
 For young Miss May I ceased to care. 
 And fell in love with Rose, so fair. 
 I lost my heart with courtly gravity — 
 An old tin can now fills the cavity! 
 I put some beets inside the can — 
 I'm sure that was a hearty plan. 
 
 I married Rose ! It must be told 
 She proved to be an awful scold. 
 She took my head off ! That was sad ! 
 It was the only one I had ! 
 
 Oh, I'm a remnant of a man ! 
 
 Deny it, reader, if you can. 
 
 Double-pointed. 
 
 Bess — " Jack says my mouth is the prettiest he has 
 ever seen." 
 
 Frank — " Indeed? Well, I'll put mine up against it 
 any time." 
 
 As She Is Spoke. 
 
 (i ¥ZZY, you come by the house in." 
 
 " No, I don't." 
 "Yes, you did." 
 "Why did I?"
 
 How To Make Christmas Presents at Home 
 
 (The fiist of our famous and helpfxil *' How To Make" series.) 
 By F. P. PIT2ER 
 
 A Teething Ring for Baby. 
 
 KEEP an old liverwurst in a cool place for a day 
 or so, and then rivet the ends together. Then 
 cover the whole with wurated — oh, pshaw ! we 
 mean worsted— wrapping it around as closely 
 and tightly as possible. This will prevent the liver- 
 wurst from biting the baby. 
 
 Cologne Bottle Holder. 
 First have a first-class tailor take the measurements 
 of the bottle. Then take a silk sock — one can be found 
 in almost any eight-dollar-a-week clerk's washing — and 
 cut off at the top where the garter generally takes a 
 grip with its tin teeth. Then cut a few holes in the top 
 and run some baby ribbon through them, so that the 
 opening can be readily tightened or loosed. Into the 
 holder thus made slip the bottle. If the bag is lined 
 with banana skins, the bottle will slip in more easily. 
 If it is to be used to hold a flask instead of a cologne 
 bottle, never mind the baby ribbon or the sock. 
 
 A Jewel Case. 
 Get a cube of limburger cheese, and with a stiletto 
 cut out the insides and line with zinc. Cover the out- 
 side with wallpaper. Sprinkle the interior with Towne's 
 Remarkable Hair Grower. (For sale at this office. 
 Well recommended by such shaggy-haired funny fellows 
 as Bill Nye, R. K. Munkittrick, J. K. Bangs, W. J. 
 Lampton and others too humorous to mention.) In a 
 few days the grower will cause hair to sprout out on all 
 
 sides and make a fine, soft lining. Building the box 
 from cheese makes it stronger and a scentsible gift. 
 
 A Button Holder. 
 Cut the stiff bosom from your father's or husband's 
 best shirt. Tie a ribbon to the name plate at the bot- 
 tom, and then, rolling it upward, tie the same through 
 the excavation where his dollar-twenty-five stud usually 
 rests. Close up the sides of the cylinder thus made 
 with sausage skin, and cut a hole in the top just large 
 enough to admit a button. Do not make it too large, or 
 it might admit cigar stumps, ashes, cuds of tobacco or 
 other emblems of masculine civilization. Baby ribbon 
 can dangle all around it, like a Boer's whiskers. When 
 finished, varnish the whole thing with maple syrup. 
 This syrup will catch and hold any burglarious flies that 
 might call to steal some of the buttons. 
 
 Book-markers. 
 Perhaps the best book-markers we have ever seen 
 were ten chubby little bread-and-jam-covered fingers 
 that evaded its nurse and walked up the shelves of our 
 bookcase one day. But, of course, every one hasn't 
 these little fingers in the house, so we give the follow- 
 ing more simple method of making a handy book- 
 marker. Cut a piece of birch bark from an elephant's 
 hide, two inches wide and four inches long. Any ele- 
 phant will stand long enough to permit you to carve a 
 piece of hide from his envelope. He may strike you 
 with his trunk, but he will soon tire of this After you 
 
 AN ARCTIC CIRCLE.
 
 have cut out a piece of the proper size, chew on one end 
 of it until it has the resemblance of fringe, and then 
 with a red-hot poker burn an appropriate motto in the 
 left-hand corner, such as "Damn the Trusts," "Let 
 Well Enough Alone," " Stand Pat, " or other quotation 
 appropriate for a quiet home. Do not burn these mot- 
 toes in the hide before it is taken from the elephant. 
 We know of only one man who tried to do this, and now 
 he is in a place where his pok?r stays continually red- 
 hot. 
 
 The Stuttering Sonneteer. 
 
 Soulful Songs of the Humble Counter-jumper to the Haughty Sale«Udy. 
 By SUS-SUS-SAM S. SUS-SUS-STINSON. 
 
 HOW sus-sus-slowly dud-dud-drag the hours! 
 It seems a whole eter-nun-nun-ity 
 Since eight o'clock, when you sus-smiled at me — 
 A smile like sus-sus-sunshine 'tween the showers. 
 That mum-mum-made me think of leafy bowers 
 
 In some fair wuh-wuh-woodland, where with thee 
 My sus-sus-soul communes in ecstasy 
 Amid the pup-pup-perfume of the flowers. 
 
 And that reminds me, bub-bub-by the way, 
 To ask what pup-pup-perfume yuh-you use. 
 
 I always yuh-yuh-yuh-yuh-use sachet, 
 
 But I would rah-rah-rather ch-ch-choose 
 
 Your kind. Is it nuh-new-mown hay? 
 
 'Twill henceforth sus-sus-scent my mum-mum-muse. 
 
 Hope You're Not One. 
 
 ttVTES; Migglesby is usually remembered by bis 
 friends and relations on Christmas, but not very 
 well. You see, he is a ten-o'clocker. " 
 
 "A ten-o'clocker?" asks the interested listener. 
 " What is that?" 
 
 " A ten-o'clocker is somebody you forget all about 
 until ten o'clock the night before Christmas." 
 
 tt V¥E HAS a fancy-work face. 
 " "A what?" 
 
 " A fancy-work face, 
 ruffled his brows knit." 
 
 Every time his temper gets 
 
 CTVO ^A.VG«* 
 
 A MOURNFUL OUTLOOK. 
 "You say we must be good, and not want things we haven't got; and you say if were bad 
 we won't get anything. It ain't a very hopeful Christmas, is it, grandpa i"
 
 The Christmas Cynic. 
 
 By TUDOR JENKS. 
 
 CHRISTMAS is coming! and won't stay away. 
 How to prepare for that horrible day — 
 The bills by the score we'd rather not pay. 
 The lot of inane old " greetings " we say. 
 Or listen to, said by each bore and old jay; 
 The old obligations we have to obey ; 
 Wearisome stuff about fat " Santa's sleigh," 
 And Moore's aged chestnut, that deadly pass6 
 " Night before Christmas " — don't quote it, I pray. 
 There once was a time we all thought it gay. 
 Would that some spell its spirit might lay! 
 The gift to each servant, that is "employe"; 
 The dinner to relatives toothless and gray< 
 Their jokes that went ages ago to decay. 
 But which they recount with an air so au fait. 
 And will till they're turned to dust or to clay. 
 While all must laugh loudly with voice like a bray. 
 Or grin as the clowns in a circus ring may. 
 Though really the "jokers" you're longing to flay 
 (A feeling that no one's allowed to betray). 
 Or to plug up their mouths with a bundle of hay, 
 Or to order their heads brought in on a tray. 
 As ancient Salome, in scanty array. 
 Brought in the prophet's she'd bribed them to slay. 
 Such are the thoughts that make one distrait, 
 In thinking of Noel. Merry? Nay, nay! 
 
 The Easiest Way. 
 A COMPANY of select colored artists were rendering 
 '* aversion of "Othello." The scene between the 
 Moor and Desdemona had been reached, wherein Othello 
 demands the handkerchief which he has given his wife 
 as a wedding amulet. 
 
 "Desdemona," he cried, "fetch me dat han'ker- 
 chief!" 
 
 But the doomed lady only babbled of Cassio, and her 
 liege lord shouted again, 
 
 " I ast fo' de second time to git medathan'kerchief !" 
 
 Still the fair one parried the issue with talk of 
 Cassio, and the lordly Othello, now thoroughly incensed, 
 bellowed, 
 
 " Woman, fo' de third and las' time I tell you to git 
 me dat han'kerchief ! Away!" 
 
 And as he was just about to open his mouth again, 
 a big, leather-lunged patron in the top gallery shouted 
 down at him, 
 
 " Fo' de Lawd's sake, nigger, why doan' yo' wipe 
 yo' nose on yo' sleeve an' let de show go on!" 
 
 Given Away. 
 
 T^AYOR SPEER, of Denver, was talking the other 
 *'* day about political tricksters. " They always 
 give themselves away," he said. 
 
 " Don't tricksters always give themselves away? It 
 reminds me of the two men who wanted to sell their 
 corpses for dissection. These two men, miserably clad, 
 called on the dean of a medical college in New York. 
 ' We are both on the verge of starvation, sir, ' the 
 spokesman said. ' We are well on in years, and it is 
 clear that we haven't much longer to live. Would you 
 care to purchase our bodies for your dissecting room?' 
 The dean hesitated. ' It is an odd proposition,' he said. 
 ' But it is occasionally done,' said the spokesman in an 
 eager voice. ' Well,' said the dean, ' we might arrange 
 it. V/hat price do you ask?' ' Over in Philadelphia,' 
 said the spokesman, ' they gave us forty dollars.' " 
 
 Desperate. 
 
 AN AMERICAN visiting London for the first time 
 ' was goaded to desperation by the incessant neces- 
 sity for tips. Finally he entered a washroom in his 
 hotel, only to be faced by a large sign which read, 
 " Please tip the basin after using." 
 
 "Never!" said the Yankee, turning on his heels, "I'll 
 go dirty first." 
 
 His Heart's Desire. 
 
 Fastboy — " I want to buy something for my grand- 
 father's Christmas — old Tightpurse, you know." 
 
 Shopman — ' ' Yes, sir. Now, what is your idea — some- 
 thing simple or elegant?" 
 
 Fastboy — " Have you any imported Russian bombs?" 
 
 English As She Is Spoke. 
 
 ««fT'S unpossible." 
 
 I 
 
 " You mean impossible, don't you?" 
 " I mean that it can't be did."
 
 Explaining Matters. 
 
 THERQ were some deficiencies in the early education 
 of Mrs. Donahoe, but she never mentioned them or 
 admitted their existence. 
 
 " Will you sign your name here?" said the young 
 lawyer whom Mrs. Donahoe had asked to draw up a deed 
 transferring a parcel of land to her daughter. 
 
 " You sign it yoursilf, an' I'll make me mark," said 
 the old woman quickly. " Since me eyes gave out, I'm 
 not able to write a wur-rd, young man." 
 
 *' How do you spell it?" he aaked, pen poised above 
 the proper space. 
 
 " Spell it whativer way ye plaze," said Mrs. Donahoe 
 recklessly. "Since I've lost me teeth, there's not a 
 vur-rd in the wur-rld I can spell." 
 
 Fair Play. 
 
 <i ]^AMMA," said the little bov the day after Christ- 
 *~* mas, as he lay in bed and dutifully took the 
 paregoric and other things, " you said yesterday that I 
 ought to be sorry for all the pooi little children that 
 couldn't have as much candy and cake and things as I 
 got, didn't you?" 
 "Yes, dear." 
 
 " Well, do you suppose those poor little children are 
 sorry for me to-day?" 
 
 
 THE AFTERMATH. 
 
 By HORACE DODD GASTIT 
 
 "pWAS the night after Christmas, 
 
 and all through the flat 
 Not a creature was stirring, not even 
 
 the cat. 
 From father and mother and me and 
 
 the kid, 
 Every one was knocked out with a 
 
 pain in his mid. 
 Because of the candies we ate for a 
 
 lark. 
 And kid from the paint that he 
 
 chewed from bis ark 
 
 
 'That is certainly a queer place for a cherry to grow!" 
 
 Geographical. 
 
 •'TIS proper to kiss 'neath the mistletoe, 
 
 * As history shows; 
 But where is the miss 
 Who'd not rather be kissed 
 Right under the nose? 
 
 Revenge. 
 
 Soubrette — " We are undone!" 
 
 ViZtom— "How?" 
 
 Soubrette — " The comedian is giving Willie a drum." 
 
 Villain — "Bah! Beneath his plate on Christmas 
 morning I will place a receipt for six months' piano lea- _ 
 sons for his daughter." 
 
 GOOD CAUSE. 
 Bill — " Say, Jack, what's Teenzy cryin' about f" 
 Jack — " Oh, he'8 blubberin' 'cause his stockin's WU2 lUtlw 
 than ours.'' '
 
 
 
 
 
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 THE LIBRARY 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 Santa Barbara 
 
 THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE 
 STAMPED BELOW. 
 
 7 f-ii- 1». • : 
 
 Series 9482
 
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