mand: "You must do one of three things now, produce your ticket, pay your fare, or get off." The passenger began searching his pockets, almost going to sleep again as he went from one pocket to another. This was exasperating. Again the conductor shook the man and repeated his demand, "Produce your ticket, pay your fare, or get off." Finally the ticket was found, and was handed to the conductor.. Then the three hundred pound conductor went on down the aisle. By this time the sleepy passenger was awake enough to take in the situation. Observing the fat conductor going down the aisle, he called out: "Say, Mr. Conductor, you got to do one of three things, eat less, walk more, or bust." What Children Say ERE, Alfred, is an apple. Divide it politely with your little sister." "How shall I divide it politely, mamma?" "Give the larger part to the other person, my child." Alfred handed the apple to his little sister, saying, "Here, sis, you divide it yourself." Henry Elias Howland tells the following story of children at their play: A four-year-old boy at a country house in England was noticed standing alone by the closed nursery door, while from within came sounds of childish laughter. "Well, my little man," said the gentleman who saw him, "what are you doing there all alone?" "I am playing." "What are you playing?" "I am playing house, sir," was the reply. "Playing house? Why, you can't play all by yourself. Why don't you go in and play with the other children?" "I mustn't do that yet, sir," said the little fellow ser iously; "I am to be the new baby, and I am waiting to be born." Theodore Roosevelt tells this story of a boy who was equal to the situation: A boy in school was asked this question in physics: "What is the difference between lightning and electricity?" And he answered, "Well, you don't have to pay for lightning." A little girl asked her mother if liars ever went to heaven, and was answered, "No, I suppose not." She then asked if papa ever told a lie. "Well," said the mother, "I suppose sometimes he does." "Well, did you and grandpa and Uncle Jim ever tell a lie?" said the little girl. "Yes, I suppose sometimes in our lives we have told what wasn't exactly true." "Well," said the little girl, after deep thought, "I should think it would be awful lonesome in heaven with nobody there but just God and George Washington." The Stutterers NE of our bishops, when pastor at Stamford, Conn., asked a little boy afflicted with an impediment of speech how he would like to be a preacher. The little fellow replied: "I-I w-w-w-would 1-1-like the p-p-pounding and the h-h-hollering, b-b-but the s-s-speaking w-w-would b-b-b-bother me." A friend of James Whitcomb Riley says that this is a favorite story of the Hoosier poet: A man who has an impediment in his speech was one day trying to talk to a fellow-passenger on the train. After a patient attempt to understand him the passenger said: "My friend, are you always like that?" "N-no; j-j-jes' when I talk." Hugh McGibboney, of Indianapolis, tells this story of a friend of his in that city who has an impediment in his speech: Meeting his friend one day, McGibboney learned that there was to be an amateur play presented soon in which his friend was cast for a part. "Well," said McGibboney, "that's interesting, but I am wondering how you are going to manage to speak the part." "Oh," said the friend, "I t-think I can g-g-get along all-right. I j-j-just have to c-come on and s-say, 'The k-king comes.' Meeting his friend a few weeks later, McGibboney asked how he succeeded in the play. "Oh, b-bum,” replied the friend. "I got excited. I c-came r-running on, and said, 'The-the-the' (gesticulating. ‘Thethe-the' (gesticulating). 'The-the-the-the' (gesticulating violently) and b-broke up the show." Another of these stuttering stories is told of a man by the name of Simpson, who was one day arrested and brought into the police court. Said the justice, "What is your name?" "S-s-s-s-" "What is your name?" demanded the justice. "Why S-s-s-s-s-s—” "I don't understand. What did you say your name is?" "Why, my n-name is S-s-s-s-s." Turning to the policeman, the justice said: "Here, officer, what is this man charged with?" "Faith, your honor, and I think it's sody-wather." Woman's Will Men, dying, make their wills, but wives Escape a work so sad; Why should they make what all their lives The gentle dames have had? -John Godfrey Sare. In a Sleeping Car VERYBODY can appreciate "M. Dooley's" protest when, in describing the difficulties of undressing in the upper berth of a sleeping car, he says, "How can ye take off your pants when yer settin' on 'em?" Two Irishmen who had just landed in this country found new experiences at every hand. They had become accustomed to sleeping in a hammock on shipboard, but they had had nothing to prepare them for a sleeping car experience. They had a section, and after some difficulty Mike managed to get into the upper berth. After awhile he leaned over and called to Pat below: "Say, Pat, air ye in bed yet?" "No," said Pat; "Oi've got me clothes off, but oi can't git meself into this little hammick." All Mixed Up ENRY VAN DYKE is fond of telling children's stories. Here are a couple of his best: So wonderful is the mixture that we can 3 easily understand the state of mind of the little girl who asked her father, "Pa, where were you born?" "In Boston, my dear." "And where was mamma born?"? "In San Francisco, my dear." "And where was I born?" "In Philadelphia, my dear." "Well," said the little dear, "isn't it funny how we three people got together?" The children of a friend of mine were chased across a field by a ferocious cow. "We were saved, mamma," said the little girl, "we were saved in answer to prayer. I told Tommy he must pray while we ran; but he said he didn't remember any prayer, only what papa says at breakfast, and I told him to say that, so he hollered, 'For what we are about to receive make us truly thankful,' and then we crawled under the fence and were saved." American Aristocracy BY JOHN G. SAXE. Of all the notable things on earth, Among our "fierce democracy." English and Irish, French and Spanish, So subtle a tinge of blood, indeed, Depend upon it, my snobbish friend, Or, worse than that, your boasted line That plagued some worthy relation. |