my life that my attention has
been called to this important passage of the Scriptures, but it seems to
me that it is one of the most forcible illustrations of that grand
eternal truth, that the nature of woman is exceedingly difficult to
comprehend."

POLITE

In her "Abandoning an Adopted Farm," Miss Kate Sanborn tells of her
annoyance at being besieged by agents, reporters and curiosity seekers.
She says: "I was so perpetually harassed that I dreaded to see a
stranger approach with an air of business. The other day I was just
starting out for a drive when I noticed the usual stranger hurrying on.
Putting my head out of the carriage, I said in a petulant and weary
tone, 'Do you want to see me?' The young man stopped, smiled, and
replied courteously, 'It gives me pleasure to look at you, madam, but I
was going farther on.'"

* * * * *

A small boy in Boston, who had unfortunately learned to swear, was
rebuked by his father. "Who told you that I swore?" asked the bad little
boy. "Oh, a little bird told me," said the father. The boy stood and
looked out of the window, scowling at some sparrows which were scolding
and chattering. Then he had a happy thought. "I know who told you," he
said. "It was one of those ---- sparrows."

LOST, STRAYED OR STOLEN

It is said that when President Polk visited Boston he was impressively
received at Faneuil Hall Market. The clerk walked in front of him down
the length of the market, announcing in loud tones:

"Make way, gentlemen, for the President of the United States! The
President of the United States! Fellow-citizens, make room!"

The Chief had stepped into one of the stalls to look at some game, when
Mr. Rhodes turned round suddenly, and, finding himself alone, suddenly
changed his tone and exclaimed:

"My gracious, where has that darned idiot got to?"

HE CAME TO PAY

The editor sat with his head in his hands
And his elbows at rest on his knees;
He was tired of the ever-increasing demands
On his time, and he panted for ease.
The clamor for copy was scorned with a sneer,
And he sighed in the lowest of tones:
"Won't somebody come with a dollar to cheer
The heart of Emanuel Jones?"

Just then on the stairway a footstep was heard
And a rap-a-tap loud at the door,
And the flickering hope that had been long deferred
Blazed up like a beacon once more;
And there entered a man with a cynical smile