813
Some of the British nobility have anything but a clear title.
" That poem contains words that burn," remaiked the edi
tor, as be watched the flames eeize their prey.
WEST SHORE.
DkSnooks What was the most typical thing you saw in
Europe?
DkWinks The most tippical ? The hotel pcrler, decidedly.
The oj'Bter i now on a strike. It is understood that he object to the
ate-hour movement Pittsburgh Chronide-Teltgraph.
Oh, no. It's because be doesn't like to have his affairs
pried into.
Miss DeLake (of Chicago) That dreadful Mr. Swillow
how horribly he smelt of port wine !
Miss Nuance (from Boston) I thought I observed a certain
portly air about him.
WHAT HE WANTED.
Alqik There goes a girl, Charlie, who would make a good
wife for you.
Charlib Why, could she support me in the style to which
I am accustomed?
A FASHIONABLE SORT.
Clerk Tea? Yes, ma'am. What kind will you have?
Mrs. Tangle I think I'll take some of the pink tea that is
so fashionable now.
THERE MUST HAVE BEEN TROUBLE.
SriT (to joint of meat)-What's the trouble between you
and the cook?
Joint Nothing.
Spit What is he giving you that roasting for, then?
DEVOTEES OF FLORA.
Mr. Fangle I see by the newspapers that a Buddhist tem
ple is being erected in Taris.
Mrs. FANOLH-Yes, the French people are very fond of flow
ers ; but isn't that a queer name for a conservatory ?
HE WAS SECURED.
" I can put you onto the biggest curiosity extant," remarked
a man to a dime museum proprietor.
"What fa it?"
" He'd a democratic poBtomter, the only one alive."
" Bring him in I I'll pay him his own price, and give you
11,000 bonus."
HE WAS RIGHT.
Naglky-I scorn all these little social pretenses and decep
tions. Joiilotte And yet, when you write to Mrs. Nagley you ad
dress her as " my dear wife," although you know you are not
on good terms with her.
Nagley And why shouldn't I say " ray dear wife," when
she cosU me $15,000 a year?
Mil few
St if f S
TELLING THE BEES.
In a corner of the garden, on a lazy afternoon,
We heard the bees a-humming (every one was out of tune),
And we watched the buBybodies as they circled 'bout thtlr
hives,
And we envied them the happiness and sweetness of their lives ;
There was no one near to hear us, there was no one near to see,
Except a bird which sang its prettiest for Rosalie and me
And the bees.
" There is something I must tell you," I began in notes forlorn,
" And I want so much to tell you ere we part tomorrow morn."
To gain fresh courage now I sighed and waited for awhile,
When on the face of Rosalie appeared a wicked smile ;
And she aimed at me this parting shot before she ran away
" If you can not tell it me why don't you try and tell it, pray,
To the bees?"
At dusk I sauntered over to the trystlng place again.
" Tell the bees," I echoed slowly, while a reminiscent train
Myths and queer old legends of a superstitious day
Through a mem'ry unretentive coursed its much bewildered
way.
Jubernates says the Aryans held the bees in holy fear,
Lest departed souls Bhould in these little creatures reappear;
And in his Georgics, Virgil, too but then they only told
The bees of death and trouble in those darksome days of old,
And not of love; yet, should the tiny insects understand
And start the wheel of fortune t I resolved to try my hand.
Three times I softly rapped upon the hive Just next to me,
Three times I said, in accents low, " I love my Rosalie."
Silence followed ; then a rustle, then a voice in tones I knew,
A human voice responded, "And your Rosalie loves you."
I sprang and caught her, while my Hps but then you plainly
see
That what they said and did is known to Rosalie and me
And the bees.
DkWitt C. Lockwood.
Society Editor I met with a terrible reproof Juit now."
Bake Ball Editor Sorry to hear it; what was it?
S. E. I corrected some proof this morning and it just came
back unchanged.
B, B. E. Why didn't you caress her?
S.E -What's that?
B B. E. Why, slap her back.