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BY JAMES WU1TC0MB BHiEY.
Swollowed up in gulfs of tho't
Eye-glass fixed on who knows what?
We but know he sees us not.
Chanco upon him, here and there
Base-ball park Industrial Fair
Broadway Long Branch anywhere I
Even at the races yet
With his eye-glass tranced and set
On somo dreamland minaret.
At the beachthe where, perhaps,
Tenderoat of eyes may glance
On the fitness of his pants.
Vain I all admiration vain !
His mouth, e'er and o'er again,
Absently absorbs his cane.
"Vain, as well, all tribute paid
To his morning coat, inlaid
With crossbars of every shade.
Ho is so oblivions, tho'
Wo played checker? to and fro
On hs back he would not know.
So removed illustrated
Peace I kiss hands, and leave him thus.
He hath never need of us.
Come away! Enough! Lot be I
Purest praise, to such as he,
Were as basest obloquy.
Vex no more that mind of his
We, to him, are but as phizz
Unto pop that knows it is.
Haply, even as wo prate
Of him here in astral state
Or jackaBtral he, elate,
Browses round, with sportive hops,
In far fields of sphery crops,
Nibbling stars like clover tops.
He, occult and psychic, may
Now bs Eolving why to-day
Is not midnight. But away I
Cease vain queries J Let ua go I
Leave him all unf athomed. Lo,
He can hear his whiskers grow.
HIS ONLY LOYE.
BY EUGENE DIRKLEY.
Tint Pat was either actually suffer
- ing from mental aberration or en
deavoring his utmost to inspire one
with that suspicion, I could not well
doubt. For several days he had been
acting in a strange, I miy;ht say re
markably absurd manner, and appeared
entirely to have lost his gay, almost
Pat Oakley was a genuine Dublin
Irishman, generous to a fault, reckless,
brim tul of fun and animal spirits, and
bound to have a little taste of foreign
life, as he expressed it; aBd I "was a
blase Englishman, traveling to kill
time. "We became acquainted with
each other at Geneva, in Switzerland,
and a warm friendship soon sprang up
between us; thenceforth we were in
separable companions, traveling every
Before we departed each for his own
country, Pat and I concluded to spend
a few weeks in Paris. It is needless to
state that time never hung heavy on
our hands during our sojourn there.
No one in that gayest of cities, with
plenty of money, ever experiences any
difficulty in finding plenty of amuse
ment. But suddenly Patgrew sulky
and silent, spending his afternoons I
knew not where, and his evenings in
pacing up and down the floor of our
One evening about twilight, just as I
had thrown myself upon the sofa, I
heard Pat's heavy tread in the hall.
He threw open the door with a great
deal of unnecessary violence, and
glared about the room with an exceed
ingly savage scowl at nothing in par
ticular, or rather at everything in
general the glare was not at all spe
cific. Having uttered in a sepulchral
tone some choice expressions rarely
heard off the tragic stage, he entered
the chamber and began pacing the
floor. Pausing for a moment to kick
over the spittoon and to ntter a most
pathetic groan, he went to his writing
desk and took therefrom a small pack
age of dainty notes ; these he proceeded
to ignite, and watched them burn with
the air of one offering up a sacrifice ;
next, he took from his pocket a minia
ture, seemed about to break it in twain,
but, changing his mind, flung it impa
tiently from him, and seating himself
on his trunk, sighed heavily.
I had discovered the secret of Pat's
absurd conduct; he was deeply, des-'
perately in love, or at least imagined
himself to be. I buried my face in the
velvet cushion to smother my laughter,
but he must have heard it, for he sprang
up with a very impolite ejaculation,
and began pacing the floor again;
finally he threw himself on the couch
and and the fellow actually burst into
"Pat," I exclaimed, "you're a f&oll"
"I know I am, Bob !" he said, rising;
"but light a cigar and come and sit
down by the window, and I'll tell you
all about it."
I could not do less than comply with
this rational request of my irrational
"Well, Bob," he began, "you remem
ber that night about two weeks ago
yon declined to go out with me on the
score of indisposition, or something of
the sort, and I left you lying on the
sofa humming one of those confounded
tuneless English songs of yours, and
started for the Theater Francais.
Well, I did not go; changing my mind,
I drifted about from street to street
until I completely lost my bearings.
Just as I was passing a dark, dismal
looking lane T heard a smothered
shriek, and regardless of the conse
quences, I rushed down the lane whence
it proceeded, and beheld a woman
struggling in the grasp of two ruffians.
I knocked, one of them down, and the
other took to his heels. The woman
was nearly frightened out of her sr jises,
and gladly accepted my offer to escort
her to her home. , She said the men
who had assaulted her were thieves,
and that they had nearly succeeded in
robbing her when I came to her assist
ance. When we had issued from the
lane into a decently-lighted street, I
scrutinized her features. I was thunder
struck. The woman was a delicate girl
of nineteen summers. Her figure was
petite and graceful, almost fragile.
She had hazel hair and dark-brown,
saucy, laughing eyes that would set
your brain in a whirl, and the softest,
silvery voice I ever listened to. She
was my ideal exactly. You should
have seen her, old fellow!" And he
gave me such a hearty slap on the back
that I moved out of reach lest another
outbuist of enthusiasm should be fol-
lowed by a similar demonstration.
"Now, candidly, Bob Gordon, don't you
think she was beautiful ?"
"I could tell better if I had seen
her, Pat," I replied, gazing up at the
ceiling and wondering if he had for
gotten the miniature on the floor.
"After going some distance," he con
tinned, "we entered a neat, unpretend
ing little street, in which it seems she
lived. I asked her if I might call.
After some hesitation she said yes. any
afternoon; she never received any one
in the evening; and talcing a card from
her pocket she hastily wrote her name
and address on it, and handing it to me,
asrain thankiner me for mv kindness and
anem ! Dravery, ana Dade me good
aight On the card was written,
"Aimee Lorette, 18 Ptue St. Severin."
With a great deal of difficulty I man
aged to find my wav home, arriving
rather late in the morning, as no doubt
you remember. I waited impatiently
t o lone: days and then called. Aimee
received me "very cordially in a cu&y
little sitting-room, and we had a pleas
ant chat together. Her parents were
both dead, and she lived would you
b.dieve it? entirely alone, with the
exception of a faithful old Algerian, a
servantvwho had been long in the serv
ice of her family. After my first call
I went to see Aimee very frequently,
nearly every afternoon; ire became
first rate friends and. to be candid,
, a- s avjI iwfB uV.i
Yesterday I asked her to become my
wife and go to Ireland with me, any
where to the four corners of the globe,
or that matter. She flatly refused me,
saying she liked me as a friend, but
had never yet seen a man she could
love, and never expected to; and
further forbade me to ever mention
the subject again; and I left in a huff."
"That is quite a romanc, Pat," I
"But wha4;, under heaven, am I to
"Forget all about her."
"But I can't do that," he groaned.
I simplv smiled.
j i you had ever been m love, Bob,
you wouldn't sit there and grin."
"You are right, Pat; I have never
been in love, and never expect to be.
It is a foolish scrape to get into, and if
you propose to fall in love with girls
of uncertain character, why
But Pat was at my throat in a flash,
his eyes blazing with anger, his face
pale with passion.
"By the holy powers!" he said
"Well, well! She may be a countess
in disguise for aught I know," I said,
pacifically; "but since she does not love
3 ou, I cannot perceive that there h any
thing to be done."
"But something must be done," per
"Pack up and leave Paris," I sug
gested. "I can't leave Aimee," he groaned.
I pointed out to him the absurdity of
forming such an attachment for a girl
of whose character, family, and position
he knew absolutely nothing. I expos
tulated, pleaded, entreated, beseeched,
but words were useless.
Finally, we came to an agreement to
the effect that I should go with him to
see Aimee, and when I had fully made
her ac quaintance, I was to intercede for
him ; should this fail he promised- to
bear the disappointment with fortitude
and leave Paris.
I saw Aimee. Making some allow
ance for Pat's exuberant fancy, his
description had been tolerably correct.
Aimee Lorette was certainly an attract
ive looking girl, and there, was a some
thing in her dark brown, laughing eyes
that interested even so phlegmatic an
Englishman as myself. The fluency
with which she spoke English led me to
suspect, that her home had not always
been in la be'le France; but I said noth
ing. In time, Aimee and I became quite
confidential friends, though toward Pat,
ever since his declaration, she always
appeared a little reserved. I found her
well educated, intelligent, and refined,
and above all, decidedly original.
Finally I interceded for Pat; but she
would not listen to me, and I saw at
once that his case was hopeless.
Pat endeavored to bear his disap
pointment like a man, and shortly
afterwards receiving intelligence of the
serious illness of his only sister, he left
With a hearty grasp of the hand and
"Good-bye, Heaven bless you, old- fel
low; do not forget the little girl of
the Rue St. Severin, he was gone.
Dear Pat ! I can see him now, his
tall form bent over the window of the
train, looking as blue as though he
were going to his own funeral.
After Pat's departure I went to see
Aimee very frequently) for I missed his
society, and hers was quite acceptable.
I was convinced of the purity of her
character, and that she had one day
been in better circumstances. But
very gradually she grew reserved and
shy, and concluding that she had tired
of my society I discontinued my visit,
and in the course of time left Paris.
It was evident that Pat. like myself.
was no letter writer. .Nearly a twelve
month elapsed before I heard from
him. He had quietly settled down,
and bless my soul! the rascal was
"How is Aimee?" he inquired in hia
letter; and I know he blushed when he
wrote that name, for there was a big,
awkward blot directly above it
"Men's hearts are curious things,"
thought L my mind reverting to Paris,
and the Rue St. Severin ; and growing
restless, I packed my box forthwith
and wandered off on one of my rambling
Being at Rome one day in the studio
of a young artist, an acquaintance ol
mine, a half-finished portrait of Aimee
Lorette arrested my attention.
"Ah!" said the' artist, "that is ji
pretty French girl with whom I have
been trying to pick up an acquaintance
for the last month ; but she is modest,
and will not flirt. She lives next door.
I have been painting her portrait from
memory. She used to pass by my
window every day, but I hear she is
very ill now, poor girl !"
Aimee ill! I bade the young artist
good afternoon with more haste, I fear,
than is consistent with good manner,
and I hurried next door. I was admit
ted by the old Algerian servant.
Mademoiselle Aimee would see me,
and I was ushered into a neat, taste
fully furnished chamber, where aLt
vras sitting in an. easy chair, looking
very pale aud ill. She sprang up with
an ejaculation of surprise as she saw
me, a faint blush mantling cheek and
brow as she extended me her hand,
saying, "I never thought to see vou
again, Monsieur Gordon." -
"I am very sorry to see you so ill,
Aimee," I said sadly.
"I do not believe I shall live lonff,"
she said with a faint smile, "and the few
who would be sorry to see me die
would soon forget we, and and there is
only one whom I would care to live for. "
"A lover, perhaps, Aimee?" I said,
"No," she cried, passionately, "for h
loves me not."
Our eyes met, and 1 read her secret
as she divined mine, and clasped her to
my bosom. I had loved her very long,
but mv pride had never suffered it to
apj exr either in look, word, or deed,
for I had thought my love was not re
turned. How poor a reader of woman's heart
"Why did you leave Paris without
coming to pay good-bye?" Aimee asked,
"Because, Aimee, I thought you
were tired of my society," I replied.
"Why did .vou crow so cold and shy?"
' Because hecause 1 l loved you,
she falteringly whispered, as tho rosy
blushes crimsoned her pale features.
She promised to become my wife as
soon as she recovered her health. I
experienced the sensations of a second
boyhood; everything that before had
seemed dull and insipid now appeared
novel and interesting. I was very
happy, but my joy was of brief dura
tion. Aimee grew rapidly wore. Phy
sicians were of no avail. Nothing was
withheld that would rescn? her from
the hand of death ; but she died died
as the last mellow ray of the departing
sun illuminated the chamber and fell
aslant her pale wan features died with
my name upon her lips died happy.
To me the love of a lifetime had
come and gone. It came to me as a
delightful dream of fountains of crj'stal
water comes to the Jeverish slumbers
of -the thirsty, dying traveler amid the
sands of the desert; and, like him, I
awoke to realize the bitterness of a joy
Many years have elapsed since then.
I am now an old bachelor, and my head
is as gray as my heart; yet every twi
light, as I sit by the fire in "merrie
England" and muse on bygone days, my
eyes instinctively turn toward my
flower-gemmed bay window.and 1 think
of sunny Italy, where sighing breezes
kiss the silver lilacs above the grave of
the only woman I ever loved the
brown-eyed, hazel-haired little French
cirl of the Rue St. Severin.
Lord Dudley was the absent-minded
peer, who, meeting Sydney Smith in a
London street, s ud : "Dine with me
to-day, and I will get Sidney Smith to
His lordship once went to church to
hear Smith preach. Seating himself
almost under the pulpit, he listened
attentively. On the preacher Faying
something that pleased him, he tapped
with his cane on the floor, and in an
audible whisper cried out, "Hear!
Hear!" as if he had been in the House
of Commons. '
nis habit of talking to himself, his
two voices, a squeak and a bass, and
the two names in his title, Earl of
Dudley and Ward, prompted a wit to
say that it seemed "like J-iord Dudley
conversing with Lord Ward."
A country gentleman persuaded
Lord Dudley to present him at court.
At St, James street their carriage was
stopped for half an hour by the line
of carriages driving to the reception.
As his custom was Lord Dudley be
gan soliloquizing aloud: "Now, this
tiresome country squire will be ex
pecting me to ask him to dinner. Shall
I ask, or shall I not? No; I think he
would be a bore."-
The gentleman was not a little con
founded, at first, but recollecting his
companion's infirmity, he, too, began
an audible soliloquy :
"Now, this tiresome old peer will, of
course, be asking me to dins with him
to-day. Shall I go, or shall I not go?
No; I think it would be a bore."
His lordship laughed, and gave a
cordial invitation, which was at once
His habit often led him to express
his opinion of the viands at a friend's
table, if the dishes did not suit him,
for he was fond of good living.
Lord Wilton, who had one of the
best cooks in London, one day invited
Lord Dudley to dine with him. Sud
denly Dudley, having tasted a dish of
which he did not approve, began
apologizing to the company for the
poor cooking, as if he had bpen at his
"The fact is," said he, "that my head
cook was taken ill, and some kitchen
girl, I suppose, has been employed to
cook the dinner."
Rogers, the poet and banker, had a
bald head, wrinkled skin and sunken
cheeks, which gave him a corpse-like
appearance." When Lord Dud.'e
plain Mr. Ward, he and Rogers 1
together at a friend's house. Hug is
apologized for being late, saying that
his own carriage had broken down, and
that he had been obliged to come in a
"In a hearse, I should think!"
whispered Ward to himself, but the
company heard the words.
' Rogers, who did not enjoy a per
sonality unless he was its author, never
forgave the laconic soliloquy. Shortly
after he got off this epigram :
"Thoy sav Ward has no heart, but I denv it :
He has a heart, and gets his speeches by it."
Gov. Gordon was asked at Philadel
phia what progress the colored people
were making in Georgia and replied:
"They are advancing. The negroes
see the advantages of education and
every colored child in the State i3
anxious to get all the scholastic ad
vantages possible. As soon as the
colored man becomes educated he he
comes self-respecting and a better
citizen. He wants to own a home and
he will make every sacrifice to pur
chase one. Once' he becomes a land-
owner he becomes also a good citizen.
STAnVrXG THE JURY.
Jurymen are better off iu these times
than in the good old days when it was
the law to endeavor to starve theminto
a verdict. It is bad enough nowi says
All the Year Hound, to be put to loss
of t;me and money, with little or inade
quate recompense, without being
starved or fined into the bargain.
In the early part of the reign of
Henry YIH. Lord Chief Justice Reed
tried an action when on circuit in which
the jury was locked up, but before giv
ing their verdict had eaten and drunk,
which they all confessed. This being
reported to the Judge, he fined them
each heavily and took their verdict.
In Hilary term, 6th, Henry VUX, the
case came up before the full Court of
Queen's Bench on a joint motion to set
aside the verdict on the ground of in
formajity of trial, the jury having eaten
when they should have fasted, and next
remit the fines under the peculiar cir
cumstances of the case. The jury
averred that they had made up their
minds in the case before they ate, and
had returned into court with a verdict,
but, finding the Lord Chief Justice had
"run out to see a fray, " and not know
ing when he might come back, they had
refreshments. The court confirmed
both the verdict and the fines.
In "Dyer's Reports" a case is reported
of a jury who retired to consider their
verdict, and when they came back the
baib'ff informed the judge that some of
fchem (whom he could not depose) had
been feeding while locked up. Both
bailiff and jury were sworn, and the
pockets of the latter were examined,
when it appeared that they all had
"pippins," of which "some of them con-
) fessed they had eaten and the others
3aid they had not." All were severely
reprimanded, and those who had eaten
were fined 12 shillings each and those
who had not eaten were fined 6 shil
lings each, for that they had them in
If omen at a uinner.
"Who are the best companions at a
"Women are almost invariably good
companions, but you should remember
never to waste a good dinner on a
woman. They have absolutely no ideas
of the delicacies and beauties of a
thoroughly balanced dinner, and the
younger they are the less able are they
to appreciate the work of an accom
plished chef. There is scarcely a wo
man in New Yorlj who would not rather
put on a new gown and eat a wretched
dinner amid the splendor of Delmoni
co's or the Brunswick that eat a capital
dinner at a lowly restaurant.
A man, on the other hand, had rather
eat a good dinner in a hovel than a bad
one in a palace. What the women like
is lots of gold, tinsel, cut-glass, colored
lights, gorgeous ice3, graceful cham
pagne glasses, and strains of music
Give them these thing3 and they don't
give a rap for the rest. If you take a
stupid friend to dinner you stand a vary
fair chance of having your meal spoiled
unless he is a very old friend. If you
know him very well you may indulge
in long periods of silence the privilege
of old friendships and devote your
entire attention to the dinner. In this
case a stupid friend is often a blessing
in disguise, for it is very' aanoying at
times to be obliged to keep up a run
ning fire of small talk when there is
more important business on hand. "
Hotel Gazette. .
Rev. Whnngdoodle Lectures on Fools.
Berlubbed Awjience Ef I waster
describe de differunt kinds ob fools dar
am in dis heah town hit would take me
mor'n a week. We has only got time
ter deal wid a few, and ef all de fools
wore white caps dis heah world v ould
look like one big gose ranche.
I has allers noticed no matter how
big a fool a man may be he can allers
find a bigger fool to admire and en
courage him in his foolishness.
A fool may be described as a man
who keep3 on makin' de same blunders
ober and ober widout knowin' it. Ebery
bedy am lierable ter make blunders,
but de man what's got sense don't foller
hit as a regular bizness.
De serciety young man who goes by
de name of dood am riot classified wid
de reglar fools. He don't berlong ter
de human family. Dar's mighty little
difference between a dood and a munkey,
and what difference dar is am in favor
ob de munkey.
Den tlar's de talkative fqol. De man
vho am sittin' in de mos' darkens
ginerally does de mos talkin'. De
fraugs quit croakin' when a light am
brought ter de water side. A bad cole
must be awful lonesome in de head ob
a man who- talks too much; leastways
dat's what Opie Reid says.
No remidy has been diskivered ter
cure a fooL Fish has been suggested
for brain food, but brains ain't fed inter
a man. Dey am borned'in him. Yer
can't measure a man's brains by de size
ob his head no moah den you kin meas
ure his elerquence by de size ob his
Fine close don't help a fool, dey only
make his f oolishness more conspicuous.
Lots ob ambishuu and too few brains
am whut ails most fools.
De man who laffs at eberyding and
de man who frets at eberyding am
fools, but ob differunt kinds. Texas
A gentleman while rowing in a boat
recently on Crystal Lake near Ravenna,
Ohio, discovered two springs ' aboat
fifty feet apart, nearly two-thirds of the
way across the lake. The water from
the springs boiled up a number of
inches above the surface of the lake,
and it was impossible to keep the boat
in place without it being heavily
anchored. The depth there was six
The Genial Humorist "Writes About Hotel
America has made many gigantic
strides, aside from those made at the
battle of Bull Run, and her people
spend much of their time pointing with
pride to her remarkable progress, but
we are prone to dwell too much upon
our advantages as a summer resort and
our adroit measures of deciding the
Presidency before we are asked, while
we forget some of our more important
improvements, like the elevated rail
way and the American Hotel.
Let us, for a moment, look at the
great changes that have been wrought
in hotels during the past century. How
marked has been the improvement and
how wonderful the advancement.
Everything has been changed. Even
the towels have been changed.
Electric bells, consisting of a long
and alert whre with an overcoat button
at one end and a 'reticent boy at tho
other, have taken the pjace of a human
voice and a low-browed red-elm club.
Where once we were compelled to fall
down a dark, narrow staiicase, now we
can go down the elevator or wander
down the wrong stairway arid fine our
selves in the laundry.
Where once we were mortified, by
being compelled to rise at table, reach
nine feet and stab a porous pancake
with our fork, meantime wiping the
milk gravy out of a large yellow bowl
witn our coat-tails, now we can lure at i
tall, lithe gentleman in a full-dress suit 1
to pass us the pancakes.
Even the barrooms of American
holels are changed. Once the bar
tender waited till his customer ran all
his remarks into one long, hoarse word,
with a hiccough on one end, and then
he took him by the collar and threw
him out into the cold and chaotic night.
Now, the bartender gradually raises on
the price of drinks till his customer is
frozen out, and while he is gone to the
reading-room to borrow some more
money the chemist moves the bar some
where else, and when the guest returns
he finds a barber-shop where he thought
he left a barroom.
One hundred years, on their swift
pinions, have borne away the big and
earnest dinner-bell and the sway-backed
hair trunk that surprised man so when
he sat down upon it to consider what
clothes he would put on first.
All these evidences of our crude, em-
bryotic existence are gone, and in their
places we have electric bells and Sara
toga trunks wherein we may conceal
our hotel room and still have space left
for our clothes.
it is very rare now tnat we see a
United States Senator snaking a 2-year-
old Mambrino hair trunk up three
flights of stairs to his room in order to
secure the labor vote. Men, as well as
hotels and hotel soap, have changed.
Where once a cake of soap would only
last a few weeks, science has come m
and perfected a style of pink soap,
flavored with vanilla, that will last for
years, and a new slippery-elm towel
that is absolutely impervious to moist
ure. Hand in hand, this soap and towel
go gayly down the corridors of time,
welcoming the coming and speeding
the parting guest, jumping deftly out
of the hands of the aristocracy into the
hands of a receiver, but always calm,
smooth, and latherless.
Nature did not fit me to be the suc
cessful guest at a hotel. I can see why
it is so. I do not know how to impress
a hotel. I think all the way up from the
depot, as I changed hands with my hot
handled and heavy bag, how I will
stride up to the counter and ask for the
room that is generally given to Mr.
Blaine, but when I get there I fall up
against a cold wave, step back into a
large India-jubber cuspidor, and my
over-taxed valise bursts open. While
the porter and I gather up my collars
and gently press them in with our feet,
the clerk decides that he hasn't got
such a room as I want.
I then go to another hotel and suc
ceed in getting a room which commands
a view -of a large red fire-escape, a long
sweep of undulating eaves trough and
a lightning-rod usually No. 758 near
the laundry chimney and adjoining the
After I had remained at the hotel
several days and paid mv bill whenever
I have been asked to do so and shown
that I did not eat-much and that I wad
willing to carry up my own coal, the
proprietor relents and puts me in a
room that is below timberline, and
though it is a better room, I feel all
the time as though I had driven out the
nigut watenman, ior tne oea is sun
warm, and knowing that he must be
sleeping out in the cold hall all night
as he patiently watches the hotel, I
cannot sleep until 3 or 4 o'clock in the
morning, and then I have to get up
while the chambermaid makes my bed
for the day.
I try hard when I enter a hotel to as
sume " an air of arrogance and defiance,
but I am all the time afraid that there
is some one present who is acquainted
A STORY OF TOM MOORE.
An old lady who used to be much in
Loadon society, relates a touching
tory of the Poet Moore. On one oc
casion when the once brilliant wit and
writer was in his old age losing his
memory, the American was asked to
sing for a small company of which he
was one. She complied with the re
quest, and sang: "Believe me if all
those endearing young charms" -The
poet listened with evident pleasure to
his famous and charming piece, and
when the singer finished, he said with
much earnestness :
"Will you please tell me who wrote
that beautiful song?"
"Why, Mr. Moore," she answered,
"you certainly can't expect me to be
lieve that you have forgotten your own
work." The old man regarded her an
instant with pathetic look, the con
sciousness of his infirmity ' and broken
mind evidently forcing itself upon him.
Then he buried his face in his hands
and burst into tears. Tom Moore, the
brilliant, fiery favorite of London so
ciety, could only weep for what he was
in remembering what he bad been.
HTH AM) POCfT.
A sheet anchor a clothespin.
Ant carpenter can frame an eieust.
To save time let your watch run
The check that reigns bestthe
Men differ very much from- suas,
As ail experience teaches.
Men kick, when kicking, with their bootf .
But guns kick with their breeches.
The chaps who claim they never yet
-Have ordered np a drink,
Know all the deep significance
That lies within a wink.
Texas Sif tings.
It was very likely Mrs. Partington
who hurriedly concluded her category
of baby diseases and troubles by "And
so on 'ad infantum.'" Texas Sift
ings. Minister .(making a call) And. do
you always do as your mamma tells
you to, Flossie? Flossie (emphatically)
I guess I do, and so does papa.
2feio York Sun.
An English writer says: "The girl
of England stands alone.'" That's just
the difference; the girl of America
always has a host of admirers about
her. Somerville Journal.
"Don't you suppose," said a member
of the police force, "that a policeman
knows a rogue when he sees him?"
"No doubt," was the reply, "but the
trouble is that he does not seize a rogue
when he knows him."
Stranger Have you any anarchists
in this town? Resident Not one.
This is a prohibition town you Bee.
"What has that to do with the matter?"
"Everything. You never find ariv
anarchists where there is no beer."
"How is it, Jones, that you are so
much down on Smith ? You are al
ways speaking harshly of him. Did he
ever do you any injury?" "No," re
plied Jones, confusedly, "the fact is I
once did him an injury." "Oh! I see;
that explains your bitterness against
him." Boston Courier.
In Chicago Citizen (to visiting
friend) "There's the handsomest
gambling-house in the country." "What,
yon don't mean to say it is agambling
house?" "Yes." "Has the newmavor
made an effort to close it?" "No."
"What is the name of the place?"
"Board of Trade." Arkansaiv
"We must have peace and order in
this community at any price," said the
Kentucky man as he stood up in a law-and-order
meeting, swabbed out his
revolver with his handkerchief and put
in new cartridges. "How many did
you get when you shot just before you
came in?" asked the chairman of the
meeting. Seven at six shots, and one
of them was the county judge and an
other the sheriff." Da kota Bell
Customer You said this compound
would make my hair grow. It's a
fraud, sir; for I have tried it three
months and am just as bald as ever.
Barber Why didn't you put the com
pound on your hair if you wanted it to
grow? You put it on the bald place
co try to make it grow. Just as well
rub it on your cheek to make your
brass grow as to put it on your bald
head in hopes of raising hair. Buy
some hair, put the compound on it and
if your hair don't grow I'll refund
your money. Newman Independent,
.Over in Petosky, Mich., a lady
rubbed phosphorus on her bunion,
presumably, to ease the pain, and then
retired to her downy couch. Along in
the night her husband, who was a
drinking man, by the way, thought he
saw a fiery eye looking at him. He im
agined that he saw a frightful winged
monster with one blazing eye, staring
at him ; and after standing it as long as
he could, he decided to kill it. Slowly
he reached under the bed till he found
his boot-jack, and after spitting on his
hands, he whaled away. The next
moment his poor wife gave a yell that
nearly lifted him out of bed, but when
he found out the true state of affairs,
he was - immediately relieved, even
though his wife has been obliged to
walk" on crutches ever since. Feck's
COL. BOB AS A. SAMARITAN.
An interesting story is told of Bob
Ingersoll which, if it reaches the ears
of St Peter, may improve the Colonel's
standing .with that gentleman. Some
time ago an old Hlinois soldier made
application for a pension on account of
lung trouble which he had contracted
during his service in the army. During
the examination into his case the ex
aminer was struck with the peculiar
exactness with which the applicant re
called the very day upon which he
caught the cold from the effects of
which his trouble was claimed to have
"How i? it," asked he, "that you arc
so sure that you caught a cold on Feb
ruary 21, 1862? You mu3t have an ex
cellent memory to recollect such an
insignificant event for so long a time."
"I remember it from. the fact that
CoL Be1 Ingersoll was married on the
"Why, what has that to do with it?"
asked the pension examiner, aston
ished. "Well, I was in the Colonel's regi
ment," and on the night of that day I
was on guard duty. It was a bitterly
cold, night. Col. Ingersoll happened
to stroll .along by me, and I said to him
;hat if he did not either send me a
warm'overcoat, a bottle of whisky, or
relieve me from guard duty, Pd freeze
" Til do all three said the Colonel,
and, suiting the action to the word, he
;ook off a fine fur overcoat he wag
wearing and handed it to me. Then he
took from: one of his pockets a flask of
splendid old rye, which he also gave
me. Not content with this, he actually
went up to headquarters and wrote out
an order"calling in the guards, as ifc'waa
entirely ioo cold for guard duty. Thia
is why I happen to have such a vivid
recollection of the Colonel's marriage -
and the contraction of my ookL"
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