"But it's too late to catch him, and I'm not dressed. I've taken off my boots, and "

Just then Mr. Stevens, a neighbor of Mr. Watson, drove by, when Watson pounded on the glass in a frantic manner, almost frightening the horse.

"Here, Stevens," he shouted, " you're hitched up; won't you run your horse down to the train and hold that book agent till I come? Run! Catch 'im now!"

"All right," said Mr. Stevens, whipping up his horse and tearing down the road.

Mr. Stevens reached the train just as the conductor shouted "all aboard!"

"Book agent," he yelled, as the book agent stepped onto "Book agent! hold on! Mr Watson wants to

the train.

see you."

"Watson? Watson wants to see me?" repeated the seem ingly-puzzled book agent. "Oh, I know what he wants he wants to buy one of my books; but I can't miss the train to sell it to him.”

"If that is all he wants," said Mr. Stevens, driving up to the car window, "I can pay for it and take it back to him How much is it?"

"Two dollars for the "Early Christian Martyrs," said the book agent, as he reached for the money and passed the book out through the car window.

Just then Mr. Watson arrived, puffing and blowing, in his shirt sleeves. As he saw the train pull out he was too full for

utterance.

"Well, I got it for you," said Stevens, "just got it, and that's all."

"Got what?"

66

66

The book-Early Christian Martyrs,' and

By

-the-great-guns!" moaned Watson, as he places

his hand to his brow and fell exhausted onto a depot seat.

Josh Billings on Courting.

Courting is a luxury, it is sallad, it is ise water, it is a beveridge, it is the pla spell ov the soul. The man who has never courted haz lived in vain : he haz bin a blind man amung landskapes and waterskapes; he has bin a deff man in the land ov hand orgins, and by the side ov murmuring canals. Courting iz like 2 little springs ov soft water that steal out from under a rock at the fut ov a mountain and run down the hill side by side singing and dansing and spatering each uther, eddying and frothing and kaskading, now hiding under bank, now full ov sun, and now full ov shadder, till bimeby tha jine and then tha go slow. I am in faver ov long courting; it gives the parties a chance to find out each uther's trump kards, it iz good exercise, and is jist as innersent as 2 merino lambs. Courting iz like strawberries and cream, wants tew be did slow, then yu git the flaver. I have saw folks git ackquainted, fall in luv, git marrid, settel down and git tew wurk, in 3 weeks from date. This is jist the wa sum folks larn a trade, and akounts for the grate number ov almitey mean mechanicks we hav, and the poor jobs tha turn out.

Perhaps it iz best i shud state sum good advise tew yung men, who are about tew court with a final view to matrimony, az it waz. In the fust plase, yung man, yu want tew git yure system awl rite, and then find a yung woman who iz willing tew be courted on the square. The nex thing is tew find out how old she is, which yu kan dew bi asking her and she will sa that she is 19 years old, and this yu will find won't be far from out of the wa. The nex best thing iz tew begin moderate; say onse every nite in the week for the fust six months, increasing the dose as the pasheint seems to require it. It is a fust rate wa tew court the girl's mother a leettle on the start, for there iz one thing a woman never despizes, and that iz, a leettle good courting, if it is dun strikly on the square. After the fust year yu will begin to be well ackquainted and will begin tew like

the bizzness. Thare is one thing I alwus advise, and that is not to swop fotograffs oftener than onse in 10 daze, unless yu forgit how the gal looks.

Okasionally yu want tew look sorry and draw in yure wind az tho yu had pain, this will set the gal tew teazing yu tew find out what ails yu. Evening meetings are a good thing tu tend, it will keep yure religgion in tune; and then if the gal happens to be thare, bi acksident, she kan ask yu tew go hum with her.

Az a ginral thing i wouldn't brag on uther gals mutch when i was courting, it mite look aztho yu knu tew mutch. If yu will court 3 years in this wa, awl the time on the square, if yu don't sa it iz a leettle the slikest time in your life, yu kan git measured for a hat at my expense, and pa for it. Don't court for munny, nor buty, nor relashuns, these things are jist about az onsartin as the kerosene ile refining bissness, liabel tew git out ov repair and bust at enny minnit.

Court a gal for fun, for the luv yu bear her, for the vartue and bissness thare is in her; court her for a wife and for a mother, court her as yu wud court a farm-for the strength ov the sile and the parfeckshun ov the title; court her as tho she wan't a fule, and yu a nuther; court her in the kitchen, in the parlor, over the wash-tub, and at the pianner; court this wa, yung man, and if yu don't git a good wife and she don't git a good hustband, the falt won't be in the courting.

Yung man, yu kan rely upon Josh Billings, and if yu kant make these rules wurk jist send for him and he will sho yu how the thing is did, and it shant kost yu a cent

Lewis on Mean Men.

At 9 o'clock yesterday morning an old woman sat in the Michigan Central station wiping the tears from her eyes. It was nobody's business in particular to inquire whether she had fallen heir to a million dollars or was travelling through life with a broken heart, but one certain man stepped forward after

a time and made some inquiries. Then he passed around among the crowd and said:

"Gentlemen, here is a poor old woman who wants to get to Columbus. Let's take up a collection."

In the course of four or five minutes a purse of $3 was made up, but when he had counted it the man said:

"Gentlemen, let's chip in enough more to buy her a new dress. I'm a poor man, but here's a quarter for the old lady." The purse was now increased to nearly $7, and the woman had just pocketed the money when a man stepped forward and said to the collector of the purse:

"Well, Mr. Knickerbocker," replied the man as he but toned his coat, "it's a mighty mean man who won't chip in a quarter to buy his own wife a dress and help her off on a visit!"

Mark Twain at the Tomb of Adam.

The weeping Twain stood with bowed head before the grave of Adam. As the tears rolled down his cheeks he thus mourned:

"The tomb of Adain how touching it was, here in a land of strangers, far away from home and friends! True, he was a blood-relation; though a distant one, still a relation! The unerring instinct of nature thrilled its recognition. The fountain of my filial affection was stirred to its profoundest depths, and I gave way to tumultuous emotion. I leaned upon a pillar and burst into tears. I deem it no shame to have wept over the grave of my poor dead relative. Let him who would sneer at my emotion close this volume. Noble old man -he did not live to see his child; and I-II, alas! did not live to see him. Weighed down by sorrow and disappointment, he died before I was born,- six thousand brief summers

before I was born. But let us try to bear it with fortitude. Let us trust he is better off where he is. Let us take comfort in the thought that his loss is cur eternal gain.”

Max Adler on Going to Sleep.

Mr. Butterwick, of Roxborough, had a fit of sleeplessness one night lately, and after vainly trying to lose himself in slumber, he happened to remember that he once read in an ai manac that a man could put himself to sleep by imagining that he saw a flock of sheep jumping over a fence, and by counting them as they jumped.

He determined to try the experiment, and closing his eyes, he fancied the sheep jumping, and began to count. He had reached his hundred and fortieth sheep, and was beginning to doze off, when Mrs. Butterwick suddenly said:

"Joseph !"

"Oh, what?"

"I believe that yellow hen wants to set."

"Oh, don't bother me with such nonsense as that now. keep quiet and go to sleep."

Do

Then Butterwick started his sheep again, and commenced to count again. He got up to one hundred and twenty, and was feeling as if he would drop off at any moment, and just as his hundred and twenty-first sheep was about to take that fence, one of the twins began to cry.

66

Hang that child!" he shouted at Mrs. Butterwick. 6. Why can't you tend to it and put it to sleep? Hush up, you little imp, or I'll spank you!"

When Mrs. Butterwick had quieted it, Butterwick, although a little nervous and excited, concluded to try it again. Turning on the imaginary mutton, he began.

Only sixty-four sheep had slid over the fence when Butterwick's mother-in-law knocked at the door and asked if he was awake. When she learned that he was she said she believed