in the County.

One Morning he went around a Curve on Two Wheels and tried to dislodge
a New Bridge turned out by the Steel Trust and imbedded in solid
Concrete.

A Neighbor went to the Widow and said: "I have Sad News for you.
Your Husband has gone to his Reward."

"When did he start?" asked the Bereaved Woman.

"At Ten Thirty-Eight," was the Reply.

"What Time is it Now?"

"It lacks Four Minutes of being Eleven o'Clock."

"Well," she remarked, in a Relieved Tone, "He must be There by this
Time, unless he has had a Puncture."

MORAL: The Cocaine and Morphine Habits can be Cured.

COGNIZANT OF OUR SHORTCOMINGS

On the deck of a Trans-Atlantic Skiff, a certain Old Traveler, who owed
allegiance to George and Mary, reclined on his Cervical Vertebrae with
a Plaid Shawl across him and roasted Our Native Land.

He told the American in the next Steamer Chair that he had been unable
to get his Tea at the usual Hour, and out in the place called Minnie-
Apples the stupid Waiter never had heard of Bloaters for Breakfast.
Furthermore, he had not seen his Boots again after placing them outside
the Door in Chicago.

The Houses were overheated and the Railway Carriages were not like
those at Home, and the Reporters were Forward Chaps, and Ice should not
be added with the Soda, because it was not being Done.

He was jolly glad to escape from the Wretched Hole and get back to his
own Lodgings, where he could go into Cold Storage and have a Joint of
Mutton and Brussels Sprouts as often as desired.

The Yankee cringed under the Attack and then fully agreed with the Son
of amphibious Albion. He said we were a new and crude People who did
not know how to wear Evening Clothes or eat Stilton Cheese, and our
Politicians were corrupt, and Murderers went unpunished, while the
Average Citizen was a dyspeptic Skate afflicted with Moral Strabismus.

Then he retired to his State Room to weep over the Situation, and the
British Subject said: "The American is a Poltroon, for he will not
defend his own Hearth and Fireside."

A Cook's Tourist from Emporia, Kansas, dropped into the Vacant Chair.
When the Delegate from The Rookery, Wormwood Scrubs, Islington S. E.,
resumed his scorching Arraignment of the U. S. A., he got an awful Rise
out of the Boy from the Corn Belt.

The Emporia Man said there were more Bath Tubs to the Square Mile out
in his Burg than you could find in the West End of London, and more
Paupers and Beggars i