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f: V l6SfeSXTY! Ofe-SDCTYl-ONCe-TWCE- ) V jTO SOLO lb THE KEEN BUtER W(TH V 1 H&RIEO-E(36 tttt- ." NOTHING PERSONAL A worker In one of the mission set- -tlements was speaking to some waterfront boys in reference to Ro man history. He touched upon the I doings of Nero, giving a vivid picture of the cruelty of the emperor. It seemed to the speaker that he had fixed the idea of injustice and wicked ness in the minds of his hearers. Then he began to ask a few -questions. "Boys what do you think of Nero?" Silence, broken only by an un easy shifting of the lads in their seats. "Well, Clancy," said the lecturer, making an individual appeal, "what do you think of Nero? Would you psay he was a good man? Would you like to know him?" Clancy hesitated. Finally, after again being urged to reply, he did so in these words: "Well, he never done nothin' to hne. Harpers Magazine. DUBIOUS COMPLIMENT Booth Tarkington, like many of his craft, writes a wretched hand. Once, while on a voyage to Naples, he sat in his deckchair with pad and foun tain pen at work on a short story. A young American stopped before him. "By gosh," he said, "I wish I could write as well as you do." The author smiled, and the man resumed his promenade. The next time he passed he said again: "Gee, what a hand! If I could only write like that!" Again Tarkington smiled, and the passenger made another round of the deck. Then he said a third time: "Oh, if I could only write a hand like yours!" , , Nettled a little by the third inter ruption, the author said: "Well, what would you do if yon could?" "Go to China," said the yonng man, "and write labels for tea boxes." o o THIS IS THE WURST EVER! L -When Prince Victor of Hohenlohe Langenberg was serving as a mid shipman his vessel touched at a port where there was an English garrison, and the commanding officer came on board. He asked the captain whether there was not a prince related to Queen Victoria among his officers. "Ought I to call him 'Your Highness or 'Your Serene Highness'?" he in quired. "Please yourself," said the captain, "we always call him 'Sausage,' be cause he's a German." o o NOR STACK THE JOCKEYS One night, after he had been par ticularly lucky at poker, the talk turn ed to this curious state of things. "It's very funny, Mr. Swivler," said a fair young thing, "that you can't get any luck racing, yet you're lucky enough at cards." Swivler felt confidential. "Well, you see," he said, smiling blandly, "I can't shuffle the horseaJ" iMffffgtittftitiftifcifffffi titiitiititiititiiiltiltitiitiiaiitii