ole cigar apiece in
our breast pockets--at peace with the world, the flesh, and his Satanic
majesty. Allow me to give you a light."

He handed the Colonel one of the free dinner-tickets of the X. Y. Z.
Society.

"The Presbyterian blue-light I reserve for my own use. Witness it burn.

"Well, Colonel, I hope you have enjoyed your dinner?"

"Thoroughly, sir, thoroughly. This is one of the many occasions in my
life, Humphrey, when I rejoice in my early good breeding. Were it not
for that, I should feel constrained to inquire whom you throttled and
robbed in crossing Fifth Avenue, two hours ago, during the forty seconds
when my back was turned."

"And my pious rearing would compel me to answer, 'No one.'

"The wherewithal to procure this Christmas dinner dropped straight from
heaven, Colonel. I saw it fall, and gratefully seized it, just in the
middle of the crossing."

"Thanks. I have taken the liberty of helping myself to the rest of the
matches, Humphrey."

"Quite thoughtful of you. We'll use one apiece for the other cigars. Do
you know I really enjoyed the first half of that smoke. It was quite
like renewing one's youth."

And so, in easy converse, they strolled slowly down Fifth Avenue.

As Sir Humphrey hesitated in his walk, evidently suffering discomfort
from his right boot, he presently remarked:

"I say, Colonel, I think I'll call around tomorrow at a few of my
friends' houses, and see if some benevolent housewife won't let me have
a shoe for this right foot."

"Or why not try your cigar on the ebony janitor of the apartment-house
across the way. He has access to the trash-boxes, and could no doubt
secure you a shoe--maybe a pair."

"Thanks, Colonel, for the suggestion, but there are a few things I never
do. I never fly in the face of Providence. I shall smoke that cigar
intact."

And they walked on.

THE REV. JORDAN WHITE'S THREE GLANCES

The Reverend Jordan White, of Cold Spring Baptist Church, was so utterly
destitute of color in his midnight blackness of hue as to be considered
the most thoroughly "colored" person on Claybank plantation, Arkansas.

That so black a man should have borne the name of White was one of the
few of such familiar misfits to which the world never becomes insensible
from familiarity. From the time when Jordan, a half-naked urchin of six,
tremblingly pronounced his name before the principal's desk in the
summer free Claybank school to the memorable occasion of