inscription, and thinking it would not be pleasing to his new wife, he
wrote to the stone-cutter, asking that he exercise his ingenuity in
adapting it to the new conditions. After his return he took his new wife
to see the tombstone and found that the inscription had been made to
read:

"The light of my life has gone out,
But I have struck another match."

Here lies Bernard Lightfoot,
Who was accidentally killed in the forty-fifth year
of his age.
This monument was erected by his grateful family.

I thought it mushroom when I found
It in the woods, forsaken;
But since I sleep beneath this mound,
I must have been mistaken.

On the tombstone of a Mr. Box appears this inscription:
Here lies one Box within another.
The one of wood was very good,
We cannot say so much for t'other.

Nobles and heralds by your leave,
Here lies what once was Matthew Prior;
The son of Adam and of Eve;
Can Bourbon or Nassau claim higher?

--_Prior_.

Kind reader! take your choice to cry or laugh;
Here Harold lies-but where's his Epitaph?
If such you seek, try Westminster, and view
Ten thousand, just as fit for him as you.

--_Byron_.

I conceive disgust at these impertinent and misbecoming familiarities
inscribed upon your ordinary tombstone.--_Charles Lamb_.

EPITHETS

John Fiske, the historian, was once interrupted by his wife, who
complained that their son had been very disrespectful to some neighbors.
Mr. Fiske called the youngster into his study.

"My boy, is it true that you called Mrs. Jones a fool?"

The boy hung his head. "Yes, father." "And did you call Mr. Jones a
worse fool?"

"Yes, father."

Mr. Fiske frowned and pondered for a minute. Then he said:

"Well, my son, that is just about the distinction I should make."

"See that man over there. He is a bombastic mutt, a windjammer
nonentity, a false alarm, and an encumberer of the earth!"

"Would you mind writing all that down for me?"

"Why in the world--"

"He's my husband, and I should like to use it on him some time."

EQUALITY

As one of the White Star steamships came up New York harbor the other
day, a grimy coal barge floated immediately in front of her. "Clear out
of the way with that old mud scow!" shouted an officer on the bridge.

A round, sun-browned face appeared over the cabin hatchway. "Are ye the
captain of that vessel?"

"No," answered th