ample, the prisoner who
complained of the literature that the prison angel gave him to read.

"Nutt'n but continued stories," he grumbled. "An I'm to be hung next
Tuesday."

It was a very hot day and a picnic had been arranged by the United
Society of Lady Vegetarians.

They were comfortably seated, and waiting for the kettle to boil, when,
horror of horrors! a savage bull appeared on the scene.

Immediately a wild rush was made for safety, while the raging creature
pounded after one lady who, unfortunately, had a red parasol. By great
good fortune she nipped over the stile before it could reach her. Then,
regaining her breath, she turned round.

"Oh, you ungrateful creature!" she exclaimed. "Here have I been a
vegetarian all my life. There's gratitude for you!"

Miss PASSAY--"You have saved my life, young man. How can I repay you?
How can I show my gratitude? Are you married?"

YOUNG MAN--"Yes; come and be a cook for us."

GREAT BRITAIN

One of the stories told by Mr. Spencer Leigh Hughes in his speech in the
House of Commons one night tickled everybody. It is the story of the
small boy who was watching the Speaker's procession as it wended its way
through the lobby. First came the Speaker, and then the chaplain, and
next the other officers.

"Who, father, is that gentleman?" said the small boy, pointing to the
chaplain.

"That, my son," said the father, "is the chaplain of the House."

"Does he pray for the members?" asked the small boy.

The father thought a minute and then said: "No, my son; when he goes
into the House he looks around and sees the members sitting there and
then he prays for the country."--_Cardiff Mail_.

There is a lad in Boston, the son of a well-known writer of history, who
has evidently profited by such observations as he may have overheard his
father utter touching certain phases of British empire-building. At any
rate the boy showed a shrewd notion of the opinion not infrequently
expressed in regard to the righteousness of "British occupation." It was
he who handed in the following essay on the making of a British colony:

"Africa is a British colony. I will tell you how England does it. First
she gets a missionary; when the missionary has found a specially
beautiful and fertile tract of country, he gets all his people round him
and says: 'Let us pray,' and when all the eyes are shut, up goes the
British flag."

GRIEF

Jim, who worked in a garage, ha