this time. Try and hobble along
on any others you may have left.'"--_Boston Herald._

THE GLORY OF FAILURE.

All honor to him who wins the prize,
The world has cried for a hundred years;
But to him who tries and fails and dies,
I give great glory and honor and tears.

_Joaquin Miller._

HER GUESS.

Mrs. Ascum--I hear the men talking about a "temporary business slump." I
wonder what that means.

Mrs. Wise--I think it simply means that they're cooking up an excuse to
give their wives less money.--_Philadelphia Press._

SCOTT ON WOMAN.

O woman! In our hours of ease,
Uncertain, coy, and hard to please,
And variable as the shade
By the light quivering aspen made--
When pain and anguish wring the brow,
A ministering angel thou!

OVERDID IT A BIT.

A famous statesman prided himself on his success in campaigning, when
called upon to reach a man's vote through his family pride.

On one of his tours he passed through a country town when he came suddenly
upon a charming group--a comely woman with a bevy of little ones about
her--in a garden. He stopped short, then advanced and leaned over the
front gate.

"Madam," he said in his most ingratiating way, "may I kiss these beautiful
children?"

"Certainly, sir," the lady answered demurely.

"They are lovely darlings," said the campaigner after he had finished the
eleventh. "I have seldom seen more beautiful babies. Are they all yours,
marm?"

The lady blushed deeply.

"Of course they are--the sweetest little treasures," he went on. "From
whom else, marm, could they have inherited these limpid eyes, these rosy
cheeks, these profuse curls, these comely figures and these musical
voices?"

The lady continued blushing.

"By the way, marm," said the statesman, "may I bother you to tell your
estimable husband that ----, Republican candidate for Governor, called
upon him this evening?"

"I beg your pardon," said the lady, "I have no husband."

"But these children, madam--you surely are not a widow?"

"I fear you were mistaken, sir, when you first came up. These are not my
children. This is an orphan asylum!"

_Exchange._

WORDSWORTH ON WOMAN.

A maid whom there were none to praise
And very few to love;
A violet by a mossy stone
Half hidden from the eye;
Fair as a star when only one
Is shining in the sky.

_Poems of the Affections._

DIVIDED.

"Johnny,