WEEKLY - .11 o r. W A1. K r G A ZE'I‘ 111. WYN KEN AND BLYN KEN. Wynken and Blynken and Nod one night Sailed of! in a wooden shoe—— Bailed on a river of crystal light Into a sea of dew: ‘ Where are you going and what do you wish? "" The old moon asked the three; , “We have come to fish for the herring fish That live in this beautiful sea; Nets of silver and gold have we!” Said Wynken, Blynken, And Nod. The old moon laughed and sang a song, As they rocked in the wooden shoe; And the wind that sped them all night long Ruflled the waves of dew. The little stars were the herring fish That lived in that beautiful sea: “Now cast your nets whenever you wish- Never afeared are we!” So cried the stars to the fishermen three: Wynken, Blynken, ' and Nod. ‘ All night long their nets th 7y threw To the stars in the twinkling foam, Then down from the skies came the wooden shoe, " Bringing the fisherman home; ’Twas all so pretty a sail, it seemed As if it could not be And some folks thought ’was a dream they’d dreamed Of sailing that beautiful sea: But I shall name you the fishermen three VVynken, Blynken, And Nod. Wynken and Blynken are two little eyes, And Nod is a little head, And the wooden shoe that sailed the skies Is a wee one‘s trundle bed. So shut your eyes while mother sings Of wonderful sights that be, And you shall see the beautiful things. As you rock in the misty sea. When the old shoe rocked the fishermen three: .‘Wynken. Blynken, And Nod. —~ Eugene Field in Longman’s Journal. NEVER DESPAI‘R! Who has not heard or read about London Bridge, that famous thorough- fare of England’s busiest centre of traf- fic, of its endless stream of humanity, constantly passing to and fro in their daily pursuits, of innumerable tales of woe, of lives lost, misspent and forlorn, of tragedies, occurring only to be at once forgotten and followed by more startling crimes, the' inevitable result and outcome of everyday life in the English metropolis. It was on a dark and foggy evening. The hour when the tired toilers- seek the comfort of their fireside, when everybody goes to his home—provided he has a. home—had come and gone. Suddenly tWO pedestrians approaching from opposite directions came to a sud- den and rather unpleasant collision on the bridge. One of them, young and dressed in the height of ' fashion, had come from the aristocratic regions of . the West End, while the other,who had approached from the laboring districts of Southwark, was much older and was poorly clad. “Thunder and lightning, sir,” ex- claimed the younger of the two, “why could you not get out of my way, when you saw me approach?” The other, evidentlya laborer, merely shrugged his shoulders. “Where were you going post haste?" continued the first speaker, noticing the- man s dejected attitude. “There!” came the hoarse answer, pointing down to the river. “There? Well, my man, our road is the same. Take me with you!” ~ The poor laborer cast a surprised look at the well- dressed young man. “You?” he said. “You, go down there? Impossible! What has put such a dreadful thought into your head? You look like a rich man; you have youth besides, consequently you should be happy.” ‘ “Wrong, my friend, altogether wrong. Wealth is not always akin to happiness,” responded the young man. "Come, rouse yourself, I Can see things also have gone wrong with you, walk with me a short distance and let me explain." ‘ Strange! - Here were two persons who had not even known of each other’s ex- istence five minutes before, but withal,. they felt themselves drawn toward one another by that sympathetic flash which so very often influences our des- tinies. They walked side by side while the rich man poured his heart out to his poor companion, telling him that he had led anything but a happy life, al- though possessing everything that usu- ally goes to make life worth living. He was a bachelor who had inherited great wealth from his uncle. He had drained the pleasure cup of all kinds of amuse- ments, had kept servants, horses. and carriages; numberless friends had con- gregated at his splendidly furnished apartments and in his country' resi- dences; he had. lived like a sybarite and thrown away his money with both hands, and now he was tired of life, satiated and blase in spite of his youth. Melancholy, remorse and misanthropy troubled him incessantly, and he could not help repeating to himself that his life had been an utterly useless one. Therefore he had finally come to the deliberate conclusion to end his worth- less existence in the waters of the River Thames. The laborer was dumbfounded. Never in his life had he listened to such a queer tale. ‘ ‘How incomprehensible!” he exclaim- ed. “My life tells exactly the opposite story. I am very poor, having ailing wife and seven children, and, alas, no food for them; thus far I have honestly and tirelessly tried to make the two ends meet—in a manner—by hard work, but a few days ago I lost my place at the factory on account of dull times. I can- not witness the misery at home any longer; it tears my heart to look at my starving loved ones; and though my suffering wife tries hard to console me and give me courage, bidding me not to despair, I’ see no escape. I have no hope leit and am resolved to put an end to my miserable existence. May God in —.~_..__ : public property. “N ow I lnow that there are people 1 . this world who are a great deal mor : unhappy than I considered myself to be. fool that I was,” be reflected. .' “But cheer up, man, there is help 11:: a case like yours. Come, lead the way. take me to your house. I guess I caz; end your troubles, as far as the—the—-~ jumping into the Thames is concerned I think there is no special hurry abou it, do you?” A cab soon brought the two Ivonne (andidates for destrustion to the dirt; narrow lanes of the workingmen’s qua;- ters in Southwark, where it stopped 11.. front of a tumbled down cottage. Pov- erty and want stared at them from every nook and corner as the m.1ster o the house and the young man enters . a, small but tidy and scrupuloust clean room. A group of children of a pro nounced type had hardly recognized . their father when they ran up to him. and pitifully begged for bread. Her eyes, red and swollen from crying, her body emaciated from want and sick 11:ss. the mother painfully tried to rise from her work, aided by her 17 year old daughter Ma1 y. The young man was shocked when he beheld this scene of what appeared un merited but great misery. But when his sympathetic and astonished gaze full )f pity had fastened itself upon the face and figure of the beautiful girl, he gave _ . Full of a." a start of genuine surprise. generous impulse and quickly 1esolved, he grabbed the laborer by the hand, ex- claiming: “Cheer up, I shall be back in an hour or less,” he explained, and left before the family had time to recover from their astonishment over the unexpected visitor. All the father was able to do in reply to the many questions of his wife and children was to console and cheer them in a half hearted manner. The poor man’s suflferings .had made him scepti- cal; he had lost faith in himself and in others, almost in God. Suddenly the door opened once more to admit the man who was up pe1 most in their thoughts. Behind him appear- ed two servants carrying baskets filled with choice eatables and sundiy bottles which they deposited upon the table and at once withdrew. The young man stepped up to the as tonished laborer, saying in tremulous tones: “My friend, to—night you have saved my life. Let me ofier you and yours a small token of my gratitude. Do me the honor to accept what I brought you, also this sum of money. And now. cheer up, for you will have no more worries if I can help it.” All shed tears of joy. Again and again they showered blessing and ex- pressions of their overwhelming grati tude upon their noble benefactor; but when Mary approached him to kiss his hand for saving her mother, whose life was fast ebbing away from sheer want- and ailment, he drew back, saying: “My friend! I have moreto tell you. My name is John Graham, and, as I have already informed you, I have in- herited great wealth. But I have no peaceful home,m my life is not a regu lated one. When an hour ago I left you I went to the next police station, to find out all I could about you, also to your former employer, and to the clero gy- man of this district. I have heard noth- ing but good spoken of you, especially so and in the highest degree,‘ of your daughter Mary, for whom I should like to care exclusively, if you will let me.’ These gracious words were followed by silence, unbroken but for the sobbing of Mary’s mother, who finally remarked with suppressed tears choking her ut- terance, that Mary was her sole depend- ence for the household work. that she alone cared for the little ones when their father was away at his work, and she, the mother, sick in her bed, that Mary had never worked away from home, and was hardly in a fit condition to be employed elsewhere. “Employment? A position? My dear madam, you have altogether miscon strued my meaning. Nothing is further removed from my thoughts than a de- sire to see your daughter work for others. I Want her for my own, for my wife! I could not pay the debt of gratitude which I owe the family of the man who preserved my life more ap- propriately than to henceforth keep want and distress from their home. And on the other hand, what better com- pensation could I ask in return than the permission that would give me the right to do so by making your beautiful daughter my wife, providing she shares my love and is willing to make me the happiest of men!" Of course, there was no objection, and a few weeks later the marriage took place. Two men, tired of life, were fated to become the preservers of two families who henceforth led a happy and useful existence. The young couple founded an asylum for poor laborers. If you, fair reader, ever go to London, and while “doing" the town should have a chance to visit this institute, over the main entrance to which 15 the motto “Never Despaii,” you will surely have no difficulty to recognize the gray- haired superintend- ent as one of the heroes of this true tale, the old laborer, and by his side his now fully recuperated wife, trying to do all the good in their power to those in need—From the French. Eighty Years’ Copyright. Italian publishers retain the copy- ! right on the works they print for eighty years, after which the works become 3 just published a decree, however, that His infinite meicy have pity on my 1 family I” ‘ Poor to How!” The rich young man’s countenance was full of deep pity and ' " .. unbidden tears gathered in his eyes. after the expiration of the copyright, the works shall revert to the State. which will tax reproductions. The first important work to come under the lawis Rossini’ s “Barbiere de Seviglia,’ first produced in February, 1816, the rights in which were given by the com poser to the musical academy he founded at Pesaro. Instead of becom- ing public property, the proceeds from the opera will go to the Government, which will use them for the support of '3 Rossini’s academy. The Government has 01.1311 N T1111: B 1:131}. A CUSTOM OF SATURDAYS THAT HAS BEEN RUDELY BROKEN. I The Almost Forgotten Sunday Tens of Our Grandmothers and Some of the Dalnties Which Distinguished the “’llolesomo Dinners of Other Days. The New York Post in reminiscent :vein, says that no more remarkable change has come acros the social face of American city and country life-es— pecially in the cities and their sub- urbs—than the gradual fading away of “baking day.’ Less than a genera- tion ago every Saturday morning in the house of each family of standing was sanctified to the use of the bak- ing-tin, and mothers and daughters, with whatever cousins or aunts hap- pened to be visiting or within call, used to spend at least half the day in the depths of their kitchen, arrayed in dainty print dresses and big ging- ham aprons, only going up stairs when the cupboard shelves were loaded down with deftly browned loaves of cake and rows of flaky pics. -.The “gi1ls,” which was the proper "term for ,_ housemaids, were superflu- u --~these mornings, except as hum- bled, “elpers and fetchers of wood, wa- ter’ and concomitants. “Baking day” was the supreme weekly event in the houslholds that we1e households. Newadays, save in the most old-fash- ioned of families, the kitchen maid has‘ her kitchen to herself on Satur- days quite as much as on any other day of the week. This has resulted in the almost com- plete disappearance of the rich and solid while light cakes of many sorts that formerly every good housewife thought necessary to keep up the rep utation of her establishment. ”It has made the once fashionable flaky pics that were feminine accomplishments quite as much as French and dancing disappear completely. And the ban- ishment of “baking day” is responsi- ble for the ending of a function that was at one time well nigh universal— the old Sunday “tea,” which was ver- itably a tea, and consisted of a cold dish or two, fragrant Oolong or Sou- chong and heaps of sweet goodies ga- lore, oblong silver cake-baskets piled with wedges of flaky cake, preserves, jellies, hot biscuits and pickles. There may be some towns in the country where the old-fashioned bak- ing still goes on, and Sunday tea is still what it used to be. but these places are few.‘ It is no longer the fashion for the mistress of a house- hold to be prepared and able to make the delightful old dishes her grand- mother was an expert at. The major- ity of these delicacies are beginning to be’lost in oblivion nowadays. The cOok-books‘and tons of recipes that find their way Into print do not con- cern themselves with this lost section of American cookery. They deal with the sauces, the dressings, the garnish- ings, and the meats of European chefs, but they leave out the rich, creamy fiakiness of the old pies and cakes. Cakes and pies, too, have somehow come to be merely incldentals of a meal instead of the staple features they used to be. The old-time rules and recipes, Ithe quantity of for, would certainly shock any house- keeper of today. These articles were thrown in with a lavish hand and an implicit faith in the infallibilty of the “rule.” Housewives were not infre- quent'in those days who made ten to fifteen pies and as many loaves of cake in a single morning. \Vhile the full glory of “baking day” was re- flected-Sunday night, and the richest loaves and the finest preserves were set forth then for the visitors who were always there, the supply never- theless was planned to last .the whole week through. Especially was this the case in the suburbs, to which city folks used frequently to journey on tho first day of the week to see their relatives and friends, and when a marriagcable girl of any popularity was sure to have four or five of her best young men drop in late Sunday afternoon with the full expectation of being asked to “tea.” Nor did the in- vitation ever fail to come, and many a Jack proposed marriage to Jill af- ter being hypnotized by her mamma’s cooking. ' MODERN PRCVERBS Merit causes envy in the base, and emulation in the noble. He who agrees with us is a wise fellow and well instructed. Before you become angry. find a reason for not being so. , It is- the acme of good breeding to respect a feeling we-do not share. The foolish man strives for the good opinion of others, a wise man for his own. Learn to imitate the v. 'rtues of 3' our enemies rather than the faults of y our friends. He who suffers without cause is more fortunate than he who causes sufievring. The woman who banishes Delicacy often becomes accomplice to the mur- der of Innocence. Forgiveness is "Heaven-sent balm that has been known to cure even the wounds of self-love. Self-love, like the Serpent in Cleo- patra’s flowers and fruit, often lie-s hidden among the motives of our best actions. He who makes an“ assertion with- out suflicient data, or upon hearsay, is apt 'to breed up a wolf that may some day turn upon and injure himself. Errors in religion may cause pity, but never excite anger in a wise man. Take a torch in your hand and try to examine the stars by its light, and you will understand how near the fi- nite mind combs'rto penetrating the in- finite. try to eggs, S cream, sugar and butter they called ' YANKEES IN BABYLON THEY ARE UPTURNING SOME ES- TABLISHED CHRONOLOGIES. Discoveries that l’rove the World Count- less Years Older Than Even Biblical. Students Supposed—American is'Doing the Work, The University of Pennsylvania, through its expedition to Babylonia, has secured to. American enterprise the honor of rendering history one- of the most- Valuable services ever re- ceived from science. Excavations. began February 6, 1889. under the direction of Dr. John P. Peters, aid. have been continued to the present date under the conduct of himself, Mrs. J. H. Haynes and Pm fessor Hilprecht. In the valley between the Euphrates and Tigris rivers, rife with deadly fo- vers, and with the thermometer rang- ing from’llo to 120 degrees, the expo- dition has prosecuted its arduous la- bors with a result which mmks a1: epoch in science. Amc1ican discoveries in Babylonia supply the world with history 2,250 years older than we have ever re- ceived. It has long been believed by arch- aeologists that the old mound of Nip- DUI‘. Where American explorations have been concentrated, held valuable secrets, but the perils, hardships and expense of the undertaking have de- layed investigation. Nippur was a mighty city, the seat of learning and culture, long before its sister city, Babylon, became great and beautiful under Nebuchadnezzar, 604 B. C. The earliest Babylonian kings, of whom we have had any account until now, were Sargon I. and his son, Bur- Sin, 3,800 B. C. The American dis- coveries at Nippur are eloquent with the works of these mighty builders. Beneath the walls which Sargon and Bur-Sin built and the pavements which they laid, American research has revealed the pavements and walls of_a lower citY. The last wall unearthed is 17 feet high, 45 feet broad, and rests upon another wall of unknown proportions. The latest encyclopacdia (issued 1895) reads: “Babylonia is one of the first. centres at which men reached a high state of culture. Whether the beginnings of this cultu1e untedate that of Egypt it is impossible to de- C1de ”’ This question is decided Egypt was young when Babylon was old and wise. Professor Hilprecht is deciphering cuneiform inscriptions on tablets which date back 7,000 B. ”C. Other tablets which await his attention date back, it is believed, 10,000 B. C. And that marvelous old telltale mound of Nippur has not surrendered its last secret. According to “Biblical chronology,” the world was born 4,004 B. 0. According to the American discov- eries at Nippur, the world was at 4,004 not an infant, but an old world. At least 6,000 B. C. it was living, read- ing, writing, loving. hating, warring, and building temples of worship “on high places to strange gods.” It is well for the infirm of faith that “Biblical chronology,” as indicat- ed by marginal figures on the pages of our Bibles, is in no sense an inte- gral part of the Bible, but of a system devised by Archbishop Usher and as- sistant scholars 250 years ago. Geology has long declared with no uncertain voice that theworld is older by countless years ‘than the age fixed for it by this chronology. Archaeology, with learned minis- ters of the church for inter'pieters, is reinforcing this conclusion. ~—The Il- lustiated American. Dioney The Gamin’s Idea, A; street gamin was. yesterday “shinin’ up” an elderly gentleman, who was leaning against a building. He was supported by two canes, which attracted the attention of the bootblack, who sought to know why they were necessary. " The gentleman explained that he had an injured knee, and was thinking of having his leg taken off. but he‘ added that it would cost $1,000. ‘ “My!” exclaimed the lad, “that’s an awful pile of money,” and then, af- ter a moment’s hesitation, added: “and it might kill you.” “But if it kills me,” the gentleman responded, “the doctors will give my family $5,000.” The boutblack polished away for some time, and then looked up and remarked: NIP—Duluth News-Tribune. A SUGGESTION FROM PARIS. “I’d have the thing out 1 , , small, § that they were all under a pound in . 5 3 to the farmer, “certainly weigh less rolls?” . 0 ‘ ter in pound rolls from a farme1. No- 7 MR. HILLES’ WEDDING TRUNK. It Received the Wtentlon of Bull- 'road Men Along the Route. The New York Journal .deglares it was the most gorgeous trunk that ever reached the metropolis. Even the pro fessional baggage smashers treated it gently and handled it with care. And 1they grinned as they did so, for on every part of the trunk were evidences that Mr. Hines rwas onhis wedding trip. The ltrunk was not so gorgeous when Mr. Hilles bought it. It was just a plain, ordinary trunk. The change in its appearance between Lancaster, Ohio, which its owner calls home, and the Imperial Hotel. where he is tem- porarily living, was due to Mr. Hilles' . popularity. . THE TRUNK IN TRANSIT. He used to be a railroad man. Lately he has gone in for politics, and he is now superintendent of the State Or- phan Asylum. A week ago he was mar- ried. His railroad friends knew this, and also knew that he had secured passes for 'his wedding trip to this city. So, when the «trunk appeared at the railroad station, they affixed a placard to it. This read: “To all Railroad Men—The owner of this trunk is on his wedding trip, trav- eling on a pass. As he is a friend of all railroaders, any attention or cour- tesiesin the way of small J souvenirs will be greatly appreciated.” This notice made 1all the trouble. It was the starter for a series which finally made Mr. Hilles’ trunk eclipse all others which ever came to New York. All along the line new placard-s and souvenirs were attached. The signs were put on with railroad glue, which is warranted not to give way :to anything except an axe. By the time Pittsburg was reached the trunk bore, besides its original label, the inscrip- tion: “Go light with this trousseau.” In addition to the placard two old shoes and a empty beer bottle were fastened to e hand-1e 'by wire rail- road seals. At Harrisburg there were more bottles and more shoes, and the inscription: “Don’t be nervous; take ‘it easy.” - Finally Philadelphia was reached and more bottles and shoes were brought into use. so was a good-sized doll, which was fastened on with in- sulated electric light wire. Between Philadelphia and IVashington- some one bought about five pounds of rice. Then they daubed that part of the trunk not otherwise occupied, witn railroad glue, and plastered this thick with rice. At Washington huge streamers of white ribbon were fast- ened to the" “handles and straps and some thoughtful person tied on a. cata- logue of housefurnishing goods. The first Mr. Hilles knew of all this was when he and 'his bride left Wash- ington for this city. Between the time he looked at the trunk‘ and its arrival in Jersey City some one had tied to the trunk a live rabbit and another a doll. Along with these went an inscription: “It’s my first wedding trip, and if you will forgive ‘me, I will never do it again.” The trunk was given official recog- nition at Jersey City. .The baggage smasher extraordinary came down to ‘ see it. Then he ordered that a special truck be brought. To this was at- 1 tached a white horse and four men in . . I ter as long as he could, and kc-was ‘ allowed to occupy the cell in which new ginghamjumpers lifted the trunk from the car to the truck and marched beside it as it was drawn to the ferry- boat. In this city rthe trunk was care- fully guarded until it landed in the baggage room of the Imperial. “I suppose you appreciate the evi- dence of your popularity among rail- road men?” Mr. Hines-was asked. “Humph! Yes; I suppose so,” ‘he re- plied. “But what can I do about it; I can’t kill ’em all.” Original \Veights. A Canadian banker bought his but ticing that these rolls looked rather he weighed them and found weight. So he had the farmer brought into court. “These butter rolls,” said the Judge ' than a pound. Have you any scales '2” “I have,” answered the farmer. ' “And have you weights?” “No. No weights.” “Then how can you weigh your “That’s very simple,” said the far- 1 THE RHINOCEROS.. ms Hide. His Horn, and the Foam!“ Friend that Accompanies Hin— When the rhinoceros is at home— where it is probable he had much rather be than. dragged around the country in a gaudily painted cart as . one of the attractions of a menagerle, or confined in some zoological garden, where he is prevented from goring the small boy who gazes at him as impudently as he pleases—he lives in Asia or Africa Perhaps it would be more proper to say that he fights in those countries, for the greater para tlon of his long life is made up of- ccmbats with his relatives or any“ other animals who come in his way. Mr. Greenwald says that the hunt- ers and writers who have asserted that a bullet will hardly pierce this animal’s hide are mistaken, and that a rifle ball will penetrate the loose, bag: ' covering with little or- no diffi- culty. The belief that the hide was so tough probably arose from experi- ments made with that which has been-- toughened almost like horn by a pro- cess employed by the' natives who, make from it whipstocks and walk- ingcanes. Clumsy looking as the great brute is, Mr. Gordon Cumming says “a. horse and rider can rarely manage to overtake it.” Another famous Afri— can hunter writes: “He is not often pursued on horseback, and chiefly be- ,cause his speed and endurance are such that it is very difficult to come up with him, to say nothing of the danger attendant upon such a course.” One of the most ’singular- of attend- ants is that which the rhinoceros has. It is a little bird known to hunters as the rhinoceros bird. This little fel« low clings to the animal’s hide by means of its long claws and elastic tail, feeding on the insects that infest the leathery skin. In doing this it renders great service to the huge brute, but a trifling one as compared with its other duty. It acts as senti« nel to warn its movable feeding place of approaching danger. While it is eating ‘it is ever on the alert. and at the first sign of the hunter it flies in the air, uttering its warning note, which is ever quickly heeded, the rhi~ noceros starting off at once .in the di« rection taken by its watchful friend. Mr. Cumming states that when the rhinoceros is asleep, “and the bird, hearing the approach of the hunter. fails to awaken him by its voice, it will arouse him by picking the inside of his ear. , Some species of rhinoceros are l_n‘- clined to peace, and will rarely attack man save in defence of their young or their lives, while othe1s, and mate particularly the keitloa, will attack man or beast simply to gratify their love of fighting. The lion never risks an encounter with a rhinoceros, save when absolutely necessary for his own safety, and it is but seldom the elephant cares to measure strength with him, for the larger animal is far less quick in his movements than the smaller. The rhinoceros of Asia is much bet- ter tempered than its African broth- ers. Nothing is definitely known as to the average age of this animal, but it is generally believed that the duration of life of an Asian rhinoceios is hard- ly less than 100 years. The Drunkard’s Dog. The New York Times reports that Policeman Logan of that city say a man lying intoxicated on the pave- ment, and went toward him, meaning to wake him. As he drew near, how- ever, he saw a brindle bull dog stand- ing beside the sleeper, and as the po- liceman leaned forward to shake the man the dog growled and showed his teeth. Logan stepped back for fear 'of being bitten. The drunkard’s name was Collins. “Hey, there!” said Logan. Collins woke up. “Tell your dog to let me arrest you 9’ Collins st1ugg1ed to his feet, and said to the dog: “Come on, Bully, we’re ’rested.” The dog “heeled” obediently, and the policeman took them to the Thir- tieth street station house. There was no reason why the pup should be locked up, but it was plain that he intended to stick to his drunken mas- Collins spent the night. The dog accompanied Collins when Logan took him down to Jefferson Market Police Court, and was close to him when Justice Hogan asked: “Well, sir, what have you to say 3 for yourself?” I Bully,” whispered pup; and the pup “Talk to him, Collins to the ' jumped up on the bridge, where the justice could see him, sat up, held up his fore paws and whined. Everybody in court was watching . him. mer. “While I’ve been selling the baker butter I’ve been buying pound loaves of bread from him, and I use ' Philadelplfia American. Ics. them for weights- on my scales.”-—! - At Nara-m, onset. Ethel—How many times have you i been engaged? Ella—Since what time?—-1‘own Top- I “Are we sorry?" Collins asked him. The pup whined loudly and more . forlornly than before. He 'looked as if he would cry in another minute. “Well, young man,” said the jus- tice, “I’ll let you \go this time on ac- count of your dog. I don’t think you deserve such faithfulness as he ha shown. It I were a dog, and had drunken master, I would leave him. " But I guess dogs are more faithful than men.’ “Thank the judge, Bully,” said 001- lins. The dog stood up on his hind legs, gave one short, joyous yelp, and bounded out of the court room with his master. Rebuffed. Gentleman—My lad; can you direct me to the Bank of England? Shoeblack—Go on; do ye1 fink I . should be doing this if I was a bank ! director l—World’s Comic. .1 , <.., 1...;
Norwalk Chronicler