b's tail, Jakey and the proprietor of the sorrel dog had a
dispute. Jakey was attitudinizing _a la_ "the fancy," when the sorrel
dog man--who, like his dog, was got up on a liberal scale of strength
and proportions--walked right into Jakey's calculations, and whirled him
in double flip-flaps on to the wash-stand of the rural sportsman's room!
Our sporting friend viewed the various combatants more in bodily fear
than otherwise, and was making a break for the door, to clear himself,
when, to his horror and amazement, he found the entry beset by sundry
men and boys, and any quantity of dogs--dogs of every hue, size, and
description. At that moment the chawed-up pups of Jakey, and their
equally used-up master, came a rushing down stairs--another fight ensued
on the stairs between Jakey's dogs and some others, and then a stampede
of dogs--mixing up of dogs--tangling of ropes and straps--cursing and
hurraing, and such a time generally, as is far better imagined than
described. The boarders hearing such a wild outcry--to say nothing of
the yelps of dogs, came out of their various rooms, and retired as
quickly, to escape the stray and confused dogs, that now were ki-yi-ing,
yelping, and pitching all over the house! By judicious marshalling of
the servants--broom-sticks, rolling-pins and canes, the dogs and their
various proprietors were ejected, and order once more restored; the
country sportsman seized his valise, paid his bills and "vamosed the
ranche," and ever after it was incorporated in the rules of the Irving,
that gentlemen are strictly prohibited from dealing in dogs while
"putting up" in that house.

Amateur Gardening.

"I don't see what in sin's become of them dahlias I set out this
Spring," said Tapehorn, a retired slop-shop merchant, to his wife, one
morning a month ago, as he hunted in vain among the weeds and grass of
his garden, to see where or when his two-dollars-a-piece dahlia roots
were going to appear.

"Can't think what's the matter with 'em," he continued. "Goldblossom
said they were the finest roots he ever sold--ought to be up and in
bloom--two months ago."

"Oh, pa, I forgot to tell you," said Miss Tapehorn, "that our Patrick,
one morning last Spring, was digging in the garden there, and he turned
up some things that looked just like sweet potatoes; mother and I looked
at them, and thought they were potatoes those Mackintoshes had left
undug when they moved away last winter!"

"Well, you-