ck inside him."

"Ah!" said the red-faced man, without a tremor, "now I remember it did
wobble a bit."--_Philadelphia Public Ledger._

A TALL TREE YARN.

Scott Cummins, the poet of Winchester, Woods County, was a cow-puncher in
the Northwest many years ago. His outfit came to Snake River one day with
three thousand cattle. Cummins, with a poet's license, relates what
happened:

"The river was too dangerous for swimming, but after following the bank a
short distance the foreman found a giant redwood tree that had fallen
across the river. Fortunately the tree was hollow, and, making a chute,
they had no trouble in driving the cattle through the log to the other
side.

"As the cattle had not been counted for several days, one of the cowboys
was stationed to count them as they emerged from the log. The count fell
short some three hundred head, but about that time a distant lowing was
heard.

"Their surprise may be imagined when on looking about they found that the
cattle had wandered off into a hollow limb."--_Kansas City Star._

REMARKABLE ECHOES.

President Murphy, of the Chicago National League Club, told at a baseball
dinner a remarkable echo story.

"There was a man," he began, "who had a country home in the Catskills. He
was showing a visitor over his grounds one day, and coming to a hilly
place, he said:

"'There's a remarkable echo here. If you stand under that rock and shout,
the echo answers four distinct times, with an interval of several minutes
between each answer.'

"But the visitor was not at all impressed. He said, with a laugh:

"'You ought to hear the echo at my place in Sunapee. Before getting into
bed at night I stick my head out of the window and shout, "Time to get up,
William!" and the echo wakes me at seven o'clock sharp the next
morning.'"--_Detroit Free Press._

Alas, it is not till time, with reckless hand, has torn out
half the leaves from the Book of Human Life to light the
fires of passion with from day to day, that man begins to
see that the leaves which remain are few in
number.--=Longfellow.=

The Graves of Our Presidents.

While a Very Few Are Marked by Monuments Erected at the Expense of the
Nation, Others, Almost Forgotten, Are in a State of Shameful Neglect.

_An original article written for_ THE SCRAP BOOK.

The ingratitude of republics is proverbial, and perhaps no better proof of
this fact need be adduced than the manner in whic