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Newspaper Page Text
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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
"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.
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
"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
"Go to China," said the yonng man,
"and write labels for tea boxes."
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."
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"