want you to think I am
giving you any confectionery from my sample case.

"Through snows of winter, mud of spring and fall, and heat of summer,
the traveling man makes his connections and sends in his orders, and
seems to enjoy religion with the best of them. But the happiest days
for him and the shortest are those he spends at home with his wife, the
children or sweet-heart. There can be more tears brought to the eyes of
the traveling man by a little child putting its arms around his neck and
saying, 'My dear, precious papa,' than could be brought out by any other
press I know of, however powerful.

"I know there is occasionally a traveling man who always has his sign
out ready to be mashed, but he never neglects his business for any
foolish-ness. He would leave the finest country flirt that ever winked a
wink to sell a bill of brown sugar on sixty days' time.

"It is said that the average traveling man will keep a whole seat in a
car, and never offer to give half of it to a man, when, if a handsome
woman comes in, he will fly around and divide with her. Well, who the
deuce wouldn't? That shows that his heart is in the right place. A man
can go into the smoking car and sit on the wood box, but a woman has got
to sit down, at least that is the way I should explain it.

"Boys, may the trips become shorter each year, and the visits to the dear
ones at home be extended, so that in time you may be detailed to stay at
home always, with an increase of salary or an interest in the business;
and, I am sure, when the time comes you will be the happiest fellows
that ever had thousand mile tickets punched, and when your time comes to
attend the grand banquet above, and you appear before St. Peter at the
gate, and begin to open up your samples, he will simply look at your
business card and turn to the clerk and say, 'Give these boys all front
rooms, and see that there is a fire escape and plenty of towels, and
that the rooms are aired, and then step down to the box office and
reserve them some seats for the sacred concert this evening. Pass right
in now and get a check for your overshoes.'"

ACCIDENTS AND INCIDENTS AT THEATRES.

Sometimes our heart bleeds for actors and actresses, when we think what
they have to go through with. The other night at Watertown, N. Y.,
Miss Ada Gray was playing "Camille," and in the dying scene, where she
breathes her last, to slow music, an accident occurred which broke her
all up. She was