d that Dave Davis would fall over the music rack, and sit down in her
best rocking chair and break it.

Just then she touched her nose with a curling iron that she had heated
in a gas jet, and screamed and woke Mr. Hayes up, and he wanted to know
what was the matter. She rolled over in bed, felt of her nose to see
if it was there, and told Mr. Hayes she had been dreaming there was a
surprise party came to the house.

He said: "My dear, I trust there is no such fate in store for us. You
are nervous. Try a little of that crab apple cider, and lay on your
face, and see if you can't go to sleep."

THE DIFFERENCE IN CLOTHES.

There is something about the practice of "practical joking" that is
mighty pleasant and enjoyable, if the joke is on somebody else. It was
about six years ago that we quit practical joking, and the reason was
that the boys played one on us that fairly broke our back. We had always
been full of it, and an opportunity to play a joke on a friend was a
picnic for us, but this time we had all the tuck taken out and fairly
unraveled.

A party consisting of Hogan, Hatch, Root, Wood and Webb had been down
from La Crosse to the marshes shooting ducks for a week. We had prepared
to break camp and take the train to Brownsville at 2 o'clock, from which
we took a little steamer for La Crosse.

We were out shooting and did not get to camp until everything was packed
up, and just had time to catch the train with our hunting clothes on.
The rest of the fellows had been in camp an hour, and had put on their
good clothes, and washed up and looked like gentlemen, as they were,
while we looked like a tramp, which we were not. All got on the little
steamboat, and hugged around the boiler with the other passengers, for
it was a cold night.

We felt a little ashamed of the old hunting clothes that had been worn
so many years, and were covered with blood and dirt, but there was no
chance to change, and we sat down with the boys. Finally Root, who was
the biggest hector in the world, and a fine looking gentleman, turned to
the captain of the boat and said, pointing to us:

"I wish, captain, you would ask this red-headed muskrat trapper to sit
on the other side of me. He smells bad."

If lightning had struck us we could not have been more astonished. The
passengers all looked at the dirty looking "muskrat trapper," and stuck
up their noses. The captain asked us in a polite manner if we would
not please move and