Part 3

"Well, you see I used to work for a butcher an' he wouldn't let me take fits--said it interfered with business--an' I thought you might feel the same way about it."

And the young man works hard with pick and shovel and takes a fit once in a while as you or I might take a drink of water.

--_Pittsburgh Dispatch._

High Up.

Hollis Holworthy--Yes, I've been looking up some of my ancestors, and----

Miss Beacon--I guess you found a good many of them up a tree, didn't you?

--_Harvard Lampoon._

A burning question among the Rochester newspapers is: "Have bicycles an earnest purpose?" The fellow who has just shot over the handle-bar of one is convinced that they have.

--_Buffalo Courier._

Old General Debility was for a time held responsible for the Allegheny baseball team's wretched work in this season's campaign, but now the blame is being divided with old John Barleycorn.

--_Pittsburgh Post._

Her Perennial Experiences.

"One day when living at Beaufort, S. C.," said a gentleman the other day, "the young colored nurse in my family came in with a terribly lugubrious face. Around her head was wound a white cloth, which extended fully two feet above.

"'What on earth is the matter, Tilly?' said my wife.

"'Oh! I's a-seekin'.'

"'What are you seeking?'

"'I'se a-seekin' 'ligion.'

"'Do you have to wear that when you are seeking religion?'

"'Oh, yes, miss. I has to wear that to mortify de flesh.'

"That afternoon she came to her mistress and said: 'I cyarn't tek keer de chill'n dis afternoon. I'se got to go to de woods an' wrassle wid de sperut.'

"She 'wrassled' for four days, and finally came in with a beaming countenance, and with the cloth taken from her head. She had found Jesus and had been baptized. 'Tilly,' I said, 'do you have to go through that performance every time you get religion?'

"'Yes, Marse Thompson!'

"'How many times have you been baptized in the course of life?'

"''Bout leb'n times.'"

--_Washington Post._

"Kin a Quack Move?"

There was company for dinner at Dilly's house and they were enjoying the first course, which consisted of oyster soup. Dilly made away with hers for some time in silence until she had nearly cleaned the plate, when she suddenly paused, and looking at her mother across the table, said, in a stage-whisper: "Mamma, what you fink?--dere's a hair in my soup!"

"Hush, Dilly," said mamma, frowning; "it's nothing but a crack in the plate."

Dilly moved the bowl of her spoon back and forth over the supposed crack, and then exclaimed, triumphantly:

"Kin a quack move?"

--_Philadelphia Times._

The only thing that a man can borrow in this world without giving security is trouble.

--_Lawrence American._

Sleeping With the Baby.

"Grindstone," exclaimed Kiljordan, in a tone of severe rebuke, as he leaned wearily over the aisle of the car, "why don't you get up and give that lady a seat? I would do it myself, only I've been doing the work of two men at the office for a whole week."

"My wife has been away from home for two days," answered Grindstone feebly, "and I've been sleeping with the baby."

"Madame," called out Kiljordan, rising briskly, "I'm not at all tired. You may have my seat."

--_Chicago Tribune._

Out of Practice.

Lady of the house (to tramp)--You eat as if you never had seen a meal of victuals before!

Tramp--Madam, you must excuse me. I s'pose I do eat awkward, but the fact is I hain't had much practice lately.

--_Life._

What it Did.

"Stop that!" roared the exchange reader as the dramatic editor struck into the first bars of "He's in the Asylum Now."

"What's the matter?" mildly asked the offender.

"Why, when you sing your voice sours my paste," was the explanation.

--_Buffalo Express._

As He Knew Them.

School Teacher (to boy at head of class, the lesson being philosophy)--How many kinds of force are there?

Boy--Three, sir.

"Name them."

"Bodily force, mental force and the police force."

--_Punch._

Needs an Amendment.

Client (in Chicago)--I want a divorce.

Lawyer--For what reason?

"My wife cannot make good coffee."

"I am sorry, but the law is not broad enough for a man to get a decree on mere coffee grounds."

--_Time._

THE IRISH WIDOW.

Mrs. Magoogin Discusses a Proposed Trip to Paris.

"Oi say, Mrs. McGlaggerty!"

"Arrah, fwhat is id, Mrs. Magoogin?"

"War ye uver in Parish, Oi dunno?"

"Is id me in Parish, Mrs. Magoogin?"

"Yis, you, Mrs. McGlaggerty. 'Twas to yersel' Oi was shpakin'."

"Me in Parish--the rale polly-boo-pancake Paris, Oi shuppose ye mane, Mrs. Magoogin?"

"Oy, the same, me frind."

"Well, Oi was never there, thanks be to gudness."

"An' no more was Oi, me frind; but Oi hope there was no harrum in axin' ye," said the Widow Magoogin. "An' how Oi kem to ax ye was jisht this, d'ye see: The Montmorincy McGues acrass th' way had a fallin' out wud aich other in the back yard two noights ago lasht Winsda', an' they med that mooch av a rooction that foor polaicemin was called in be the naybors, an' they had to shplit Micky Montmorincy McGue's nose in three halves an' opin'd a hole in his wife Cordaylia's head that ye kud pit a taycup into before they'd be quoiet an' lave the daycint payple livin' on aither soide av thim go to shleep. The polaice tuk Micky to th' shtation house an' begorrah the Joodge sint him to th' Oisland fur noinety days. Now, d'ye know fwhat the Montmorincy McGues ar' givin' out? They're tellin' ivrybody that Micky's gone over to th' Parish Uxposition be the rekusht av the King an' Queen av France, an' that he'll have a room all to himself in the palace av the Tooriloories, wud wall paper an inch thick an the walls an' oice water to wash his hands in an' a naygur to loight his poipe fur him an' howld it fwhoile he shmokes. Mrs. Montmorincy McGue throied to give me the sthiff about Micky an' the Parish Uxposition, but we hear ducks, Mrs. McGlaggerty. That's an owld gag av th' sassoi'ty folks, Mrs. McGlaggerty, to partind they're goin' to Europe fwhin they're only tin maile out in th' counthry puyin' foive dollars a waik fur boord, an' Oi'm rale sarry to know that the payple av Cherry Hill ar' takin' to id. Oi thawt Oi'd pit ye an to th' gag, Mrs. McGlaggerty, bekase wan of these byootiful blyue Danube days mebbe ye'll be hearin' that Mrs. Berdie Magoogin an' her accomplished daughther, Mrs. Arethusy Dinkelshpiel, has gone to Parish to intertain th' jook av Rockaway Cheese, an' fwhin ye do ye kin pit it down as a fact that yer frind an' naybor, the daycint widdy woman that's now shpakin' to ye, has kicked the shtuffin' out av a little banty-legged Ditchman that was wanst her son-in-law, but that talked too mooch about th' koind av poi an' cake that his ould freckle-haired mother ushed to make, thet kin no more shpake th' Inglish languidge c'reckly than a pig can say his pray'rs. Remim'er that, now, Mrs. McGlaggerty!"

JOHN J. JENNINGS.

Lived on Water.

Smudge--Dr. Tanner was not the first man who lived on water for forty days.

Fudge--No!

"Of course not."

"Who else?"

"Well, what's the matter with Noah?"

--_San Francisco News Letter._

Unpatriotic.

I always hate to tell a story out of season, but I am afraid that this one will not keep until the next Fourth of July, so here goes: A woman who lives in the western part of our city was very much disturbed by the frightful noises which accompanied the celebration this year. She was old and quite ill, and she had spent a night in tossing, waiting in vain for a silence that came not and which drove sleep out of the question. It was near sunbreak, when the noise was at its wildest, when with a groan she turned over and in despair ejaculated: "Goodness, gracious me. I wish the other side had licked!"

--_Baltimore Free Press._

She Knew the Vegetable.

Mrs. J. (severely)--John, there is a very strong odor about you.

Mr. J.--Yes--hic--my dear, I've--hic--been eating onions.

Mrs. J.--You may have the onion breath, John, but you certainly have not the onion walk.

--_Life._

The Wisdom of Babes.

Ministerial Friend (on a visit)--I wonder what makes your mamma so happy to-day? She is singing around all over the house.

Little Nell--I dess she's thought of somfin' to scold papa about when he comes home.

--_Philadelphia Record._

A Cutting Remark.

Algernon--You must not think, dearest, that because you are rich and I am poor I am anxious to marry you on account of your money.

Genevieve--Whose are you after, pa's?

--_Judge._

Their First Season.

HE.

I wonder now would she say yes? I'd really like to make a go Of one proposal to learn how, And would, if only she'd say no.

SHE.

I wonder now will he propose? I must have one before I go, It's hard to hurt his feelings--still, Can I say yes? Let's see--well--no.

--_Wasp._

The Rascal Responded Promptly.

Up in a certain town the grocers understand all the little tricks of the trade. A gentleman bought six pounds of sugar, and found it sadly adulterated with sand. The next day a notice was posted reading thus:

"NOTICE--I bought six pounds of sugar of a grocer in this village. From it I have taken one pound of sand. If the rascal will send me six pounds of sugar I will not expose him."

The next day five six-pound packages of sugar were left at the gentleman's residence, there being just five grocers in the village.

--_Boston Record._

(_With apologies to Scott and Pope._)

Oh, woman in our hours of ease, Uncertain, coy, and hard to please; Yet seen too oft, familiar with her face, We first endure, then pity, then embrace.

--_Town Topics._

Reveries of the Season.

I can't seem to realize, fully, How quickly the season has flown; I've scarce had a day through the summer, To rest and to be quite alone. I've been yachting and driving and bathing, I know every horse on the track; And I've planned out a beautiful future, I'm engaged to be married to Jack.

From the first of July to September, Is not a long courtship I know; But, then, if we wait until Christmas, 'Twill be half a twelvemonth, and so After telling Jack "Yes," on an impulse, I couldn't somehow take it back; And he says we can court all our lifetime, So I'm to be married to Jack.

He hasn't a very large fortune, But he's handsome and brimful of life, And he says that his prospects will brighten With me for his own little wife. How little I dreamed when I came here, How settled and staid I'd go back; Not caring for flirting or dancing, For I'm to be married to Jack.

I thought, at the first of the season, Of titles and money and style; But the charm which they hold is but trifling, When I think of his bright, tender smile. Ah, me! when a girl loves her lover, Of happiness there is no lack, My heart is as light as a feather, I'm engaged to be married to Jack.

Not So Tough as That.

Mrs. Youngwife--Well, Harry, our first dinner party will be a great success, I think. The dinner, I am sure, will be perfect.

Harry--I hope so. What's the game?

"Roast ducks with currant jelly."

"Gracious, Eleanor, the one thing I can't carve. They'll be tough, too, I'll bet."

"Oh, no, they won't. I took care not to get canvas backs."

--_Utica Observer._

She Considered it a Deliberate Insult.

When General O. O. Howard was marching down through Tennessee, General Whittlesey, late president of the Freedmen's Bank, was assistant adjutant general on his staff. Whittlesey had been a clergyman down in Maine, and was fully as strait-laced as Howard. One day Howard drove into a farm-yard from which Whittlesey was just departing. A woman and her grown daughter were standing outside the door.

"My good woman," said Howard, "will you kindly give me a drink of water?"

"No. Get out of my yard. A lot of more impident Yankees I never seed."

"But I have done nothing and said nothing out of the way, and will severely punish any of my soldiers who should say or do anything wrong."

"That sojer insulted me," said she, pointing to the retreating form of General Whittlesey. "He axed me for a drink of water and when I done give it to him he sassed me."

"But--but that is General Whittlesey, of my staff. I am sure he wouldn't be rude to any woman."

"Maw," said the girl, pulling her mother's dress, "I reckon he moughtn't have meant anything misbeholden."

"Hush; don't I know low-down blackguard talk when I hears it? He asked me 'what was the State of my nativity?'"

--_Washington Post._

"I climb to rest," sings Lucy Larwin in a recent poem. So do we, Lucy. Our sleeping apartment is on the first floor from the roof.

--_Light._

SOFTLEIGH--What is the matter with your nose?

SARDONICUS--That is a berth mark.

SOFTLEIGH--I don't remember ever seeing it before.

SARDONICUS--No: I just got it last night coming down from Minneapolis. I had an upper berth in the Pullman, and the train had a collision in Wisconsin.

--_Chicago Liar._

It often happens that when a young man is disappointed in life he commits suicide. When he is disappointed in marriage he either "grins and bears it," or gets a divorce.

--_Norristown Herald._

MR. BOWSER ON DECK ONCE MORE.

He Delivers a Lecture Upon the Carelessness of Women.

In returning from a trip down town the other week I left my shopping bag in the car, and when I mentioned the fact to Mr. Bowser and asked him to call at the street railway office and get it, he replied:

"No, ma'am, I won't! Anybody careless enough to leave an article of value in a street car deserves to lose it. Besides, you did not take the number of the car, and they would only laugh at me at the office."

"Do you take the number of every street car you ride in?" I asked.

"Certainly. Every sensible person does. Day before yesterday I came up in No. 70. I went back in No. 44. I came up to supper in No. 66. Yesterday I made my trips in Nos. 55, 61 and 38. To-day in Nos. 83, 77 and 15. The street railways contract to carry passengers--not to act as guardians for children and imbeciles."

"Mr. Bowser, other people have lost things on the street car."

"Yes--other women. You never heard of a man losing anything."

I let the matter drop there, knowing that time would sooner or later bring my revenge. It came sooner than I expected. Mr. Bowser took his dress coat down to a tailor to get a couple of new buttons sewed on, and as he returned without it, I observed:

"You are always finding fault with the procrastination of my dressmaker. Your tailor doesn't seem to be in any particular hurry."

"How?"

"Why, you were to bring that coat back with you."

"That coat! Thunder!"

Mr. Bowser turned pale and sprang out of his chair.

"Didn't lose it going down, did you?"

"I--I believe I--I----!"

"You left it on the street car when you come up?"

"Yes."

"Mr. Bowser, anybody careless enough to leave an article of value in a street car deserves to lose it. However, you took the number of the car, I presume?"

"N--no!"

"You didn't! That shows what sort of a person you are. Yesterday when I went down after baby's shoes I took car No. 111. When I returned I took car 86. When I went over to mother's I took car 56. The conductor had red hair. One horse was brown and the other black. The driver had a cast in his left eye. There were four women and five men in the car. We passed two loads of ashes, one of dirt and an ice cream wagon. The conductor wore No. 8 shoes, and was nearsighted. The street railways contract to carry passengers, Mr. Bowser, not to act as guardians for sap heads and children."

"But I'll get it at the office to-morrow," he slowly replied.

"Perhaps, but it is doubtful. As you can't remember the number of the car they will laugh at the idea, and perhaps take you for an impostor."

He glared at me like a caged animal, and made no reply, and I confess that I almost hoped he would never recover the coat. He did, however, after a couple of days, and as he brought it home he looked at me with great importance and said:

"There is the difference, Mrs. Bowser. Had you lost anything on the car it would have been lost forever. The street car people were even sending out messengers to find me and restore my property."

One day a laboring man called at the side door and asked for the loan of a spade for a few minutes, saying that he was at work near by; and he was so respectful that I hastened to accommodate him. Two days later Mr. Bowser, who was working in the back yard, wanted the spade, and I had to tell him that I lent it. As it was not to be found the natural inference was that the borrower had not returned it.

"This is a pretty state of affairs!" exclaimed Mr. Bowser when he had given up the search. "The longer some folks live the less they seem to know."

"But he looked honest."

"What of it? You had no business to lend that spade."

"I was sure he'd return it."

"Well, he didn't, and anybody of sense would have known he wouldn't. If somebody should come here and ask for the piano, I suppose you'd let it go. Mrs. Bowser, you'll never get over your countrified ways if you live to be as old as the hills. It isn't the loss of the spade so much, but it is the fact that the man thinks you are so green."

In the course of an hour I found the spade at the side steps, where the man had left it after using, but when I informed Mr. Bowser of the fact he only growled:

"He brought it back because he probably heard me making a fuss about it and was afraid of arrest."

Two days later, as Mr. Bowser sat on the front steps, a colored man came up and asked to borrow the lawn mower for a few minutes for use on the next corner.

"Certainly, my boy," replied Mr. Bowser; "you'll find it in the back yard."

When he had gone I observed that the man had a suspicious look about him and that I should not dare trust him, and Mr. Bowser turned on me with:

"What do you know about reading character? There never was a more honest man in the world. I'd trust him with every dollar I have."

In about half an hour Mr. Bowser began to get uneasy, and after waiting a few minutes longer he walked down to the corner. No black man. No lawn mower. By inquiry he learned that the borrower had loaded the mower into a handcart and hurried off. It was a clear case of confidence.

"Well?" I queried, as Mr. Bowser came back with his eyes bulging out and his hair on end.

"It's--it's gone!" he gasped.

"I expected it. The longer some folks live the less they seem to know. If somebody should come and want to borrow the furnace or the bay windows you'd let 'em go, I suppose."

"But he--he----"

"But what of it? You had no business to lend that lawn mower, Mr. Bowser. You'll never get over your countrified ways if you live----"

He would listen no further. He rushed out and sailed around the neighborhood for two hours, and next morning got the police at work, and it was three days before he would give up that he had been "hornswagled," as one of the detectives put it. Then, to add to his misery, the officer said:

"We'll keep our eyes open, but there isn't one chance in 500. After this you'd better let your wife have charge of things. That negro couldn't have bamboozed her that way."

--_Detroit Free Press._

(_With the respectful compliments of_ PLUNDER.)

SUSIE--Why don't you get married, Kittie?

KITTIE--Well, I should like to--that's a fact. But, unfortunately, I'm not yet able to support a husband.

H.

Both in Hard Luck.

This story opens on the third floor of a Harlem compartment-house.

He had been twisting around his chair trying to find words to express his undying devotion, and had already begun to hem and haw, when a voice came from the floor below:

"Miss Candlewick," it said, "I love you passionately--madly; bid me but hope, and all the dark colors of my life will change!"

This was a bonanza for the young man above.

"Miss Clara, darling," he said tremulously, "them's my sentiments."

Then another voice came from below:

"No, Mr. Goatee, I cannot bid you hope; I love another."

"And them's mine, Mr. Morris," remarked Miss Clara.

--_Harpers' Bazar._

He Got There All the Same.

There is in Lewiston at least one man whose friends never worry about his ability to take care of himself no matter where he may be.

He went to the inauguration at Washington, last month, and after hanging around in the rain for an hour and becoming thoroughly wet, he thought it would be a good plan to go up and stand under the capitol portico,--that being next best to admittance to the capitol itself, which seemed to be out of the question, as he had no ticket.

But when he tried to avail himself of this shelter, a policeman stopped him.

"Can't I stand in here out of the rain?" the Lewistonian asked, innocently.

"No," said the policeman, "not unless you have a ticket."

Our Lewiston friend stood by and exercised his wits for a few moments. Presently two men in the capitol came out and asked the policeman for checks, in order that they might get in again.

"No checks," said the officer.

"But how are we going to get in when we come back?"

"Go ahead, and I'll remember you."

The Lewiston man heard this and needed no other hint. He retreated for a short time, then threw his coat back, tripped his hat rakishly on the back of his head and started on a run for the entrance, as though intending to brush right by the policeman.

"Hi!" said the officer, putting up his billy--"Where are you going?"

"Going in."

"Where's your ticket?"

"Ticket! Good gracious, you wouldn't give me any! You said you'd remember."

"Oh, yes! yes, yes! Pass right in."

And in he went.

The same gentleman once made a sixty days' tour of Europe for a sum less than a hundred dollars, passage included.

--_Lewiston Journal._

The Shah has left Paris for Baden. If all the stories are true the Shah is rather a bad 'un himself.

--_Chicago Herald._

THE COURSE OF TRUE LOVE NEVER DID RUN SMOOTH.

Willing to Pay in Trade.

"There are some funny things in law, and lawyers meet with some funny cases once in a while," said Representative Kelly, of Lackawanna. "A man who is somewhat distinguished in criminal annals as an expert pickpocket once asked a friend of mine to take a case for him.

"'Where's your money?' inquired my friend.

"'I haven't got any,' was the reply, 'but if you'll promise to do the business for me I'll go out and get a watch for you in five minutes.'"

--_Pittsburgh Dispatch._

Here Again.

Now gay young men And maidens fair To ocean's shores In crowds repair. And on the sands And hillsides green, By day and night In pairs are seen. Or at the hops-- 'Tis very plain That flirting time Is here again.

--_Boston Courier._

A Substitute.

A lady who is opposed to corporeal punishment visited a school at the North End where the rod was being applied. Before going away she said a few words to the offender, and asked him to come and see her on a certain evening, promising that her daughter should sing and play to him. He said he would come, and at the appointed time a boy dressed in his best was ushered into her parlor, and for an hour or more his kind entertainers devoted themselves to his enjoyment. Afterwards the older lady took him one side and began to speak of the importance of good behavior and obedience to rules, when she was interrupted with: "Oh, I ain't that fellar! He gin me ten cents to cum, instid er him!"

--_Boston Transcript._

Wrong Train.

A little boy, fond of "playing conductor," arranged the dining room chairs in line and called in his one passenger, a lady of serious mind, to know at what place she wished to stop.

"The station nearest heaven, my dear," she answered.

"Oh, you're on ee yong t'ain, lady--you're on ee yong t'ain!"

--_Detroit Tribune._