style="font-size:15px;"> "Annie," said Jones, "are you talking again or yet?"
The Greater Calamity
Two or three urchins were running down a long and very steep flight of steps, when the foremost stumbled and fell headlong twenty to thirty feet, and was only stopped near the bottom by doubling backward around the newel-post. It looked as though his back was broken, and that he was a dead small boy, but he gathered himself up, thrust his hands anxiously in his trousers' pockets, and ejaculated;
"B' gosh, I b'l'eve I lost a cent."
Her First Railroad Ride
An old lady in Missouri took her first railroad trip last week, says "The Butter Democrat." She noticed the bell-cord overhead, and, turning to a boy, she said: "Sonny, what's that for?" "That, marm," he said, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, "is to ring the bell when you want something to eat."
Shortly afterward the old lady reached her umbrella up to the cord and gave it a vigorous pull. The train was in the middle of a trestle. The whistle sounded, the brakes were pulled on, the train began to slacken its speed, windows were thrown up, questions asked, and confusion reigned among the passengers. The old lady sat calmly through it all.
Presently the conductor came running through the train and asked: "Who pulled the bell?"
"I did," replied the old lady meekly.
"Well, what do you want?" asked the conductor impatiently.
"Well," said the old lady meditatively, "you may bring me a ham sandwich and a cup of tea, please."
The Parson and the "Light"
A parson had had a call from a little country parish to a large and wealthy one in a big city. He asked time for prayer and consideration. He did not feel sure of his light. A month passed. Some one met hie youngest son. "How is it, Josiah; is your father going to B–?"
"Well," answered the youngster judicially, "paw is still prayin' for light, but most of the things is packed."
Turn About is Fair Play
Last Christmas a middle-aged tinplate-worker married a widow whose acquaintance he had made but a few weeks before while working some little distance away from home.
"Sarrah," he said nervously, after the guests had departed, "I 'ave a weddin' present for ye."
"What is it, John?" said Sarrah with a smirk.
"I 'ope ye won't be 'fended, Sarrah," said John, more agitated than ever, "but it is—er—er—it is five of 'em."
"Five of wat?" asked Sarrah.
"Five children!" blurted out John desperately, anticipating a scene.
"I didn't tell ye I 'ad children—five of 'em."
Sarrah took the news quite calmly; in fact, she appeared relieved.
"Oh, well, John," she said, "that do make it easier for me to tell ye.
Five is not so bad as me, watever. Seven I 'ave got!"
"Wat!" howled John.
"Seven," repeated Sarrah composedly. "That is my weddin' present to ye, John."
His Only Chance
"Is there a man in all this audience," demanded the female lecturer on woman's rights, "that has ever done anything to lighten the burden on his wife's shoulders? What do you know of woman's work? Is there a man here," she continued, folding her arms, and looking over the assembly with superb scorn, "that has ever got up in the morning, leaving his tired, worn-out wife to enjoy her slumbers, gone quietly downstairs, made the fire, cooked his own breakfast, sewed the missing buttons on the children's clothes, darned the family stockings, scoured the pots and kettles, cleaned and filled the lamps, and done all this, if necessary, day after day, uncomplainingly? If there be such a man in this audience let him rise up! I should really like to see him!"
And, in the rear of the hall, a mild-looking man in spectacles, in obedience to the summons, timidly arose. He was the husband of the eloquent speaker. It was the first time he had ever had a chance to assert himself.
He Saw Them, All Right
Two officers were sent to arrest a Quaker; his wife met them at the door and said, "Walk in, gentlemen; my husband will see thee."
After waiting some time they got impatient and called the woman, saying, "You said we should see your husband presently."
"No, friend," she replied; "I said he would see thee—he did see thee, did not like thy looks, and went out by the back door."
An Easy Way to Stop It
William Penn was once urging a man he knew to stop drinking to excess, when the man suddenly asked:
"Can you tell me of an easy way to do it?"
"Yes," Penn replied readily, "it is just as easy as to open thy hand, friend."
"Convince me of that," the man exclaimed, "and I will promise upon my honor to do as you tell me."
"Well, my friend," Penn answered, "whenever thee finds a glass of liquor in thy hand, open that hand before the glass touches thy lips, and thee will never drink to excess again."
The man was so struck by the simplicity of the great Quaker's advice that he followed it and reformed.
What Brought Them?
A rural school has a pretty girl as its teacher, but she was much troubled because many of her pupils were late every morning. At last she made the announcement that she would kiss the first pupil to arrive at the schoolhouse the next morning. At sunrise the largest three boys of her class were sitting on the doorstep of the schoolhouse, and by six o'clock every boy in the school and four of the directors were waiting for her to arrive.
Give and Take
An English statesman on one occasion, when engaged in canvassing, visited a working-man's house, in the principal room of which a pictorial representation of the Pope faced an illustration of King William, of pious and immortal memory, in the act of crossing the Boyne.
The worthy man stared in amazement, and seeing his surprise the voter's wife exclaimed;
"Shure, my husband's an Orangeman and I'm a Catholic."
"How do you get on together?" asked the astonished politician.
"Very well, indade, barring the twelfth of July, when my husband goes out with the Orange procession and comes home feelin' extry pathriotic."
"What then?"
"Well, he always takes the Pope down and jumps on him and then goes straight to bed. The next morning I get up early, before he is awake, and take down King William and pawn him and buy a new Pope with the money. Then I give the old man the ticket to get King William out."
Too Much of a Good Thing
"I've got the very thing you want," said the stableman to a ruralist in search of a horse; "a thorough-going road
