"The old steward,-hm,-the old steward, well, he got too big for his breeches, and we fired him." Now it happened that a little girl stood by and overheard the conversation, and not long after a second gentleman made the round of the ship, and coming up to a fellow traveler said: "John, we do not see anything of the old steward this trip; what do you suppose has become of him?" They looked around and saw a little girl peeping out from a cabin door. "Well, well, my little friend, could you tell us what has become of the old steward?" "I don't like to say." "Oh, that's a nice little girl, I am sure; was he discharged?" "Yes, sir." "What was the matter? What was the matter?" "His pants were too short." THE MERCHANT AND THE BOOK AGENT ANONYMOUS A book agent importuned James Watson, a rich merchant, living a few miles out of the city, until he bought a book entitled "The Early Christian Martyrs." Mr. Watson didn't want the book, but he bought it to get rid of the agent; then taking it under his arm he started for the train which takes him to his office in the city. Mr. Watson had not been gone long before Mrs. Watson came home from a neighbor's. The book agent saw her, and went in and persuaded the wife to buy a copy of the book. She was ignorant of the fact that her husband had bought the same book in the morning. When Mr. Watson came back in the evening, he met his wife with a cheery smile as he said: "Well, my dear, how have you enjoyed yourself to-day? Well, I hope." "Oh, yes! had an early caller this morning." "Ah, and who was she?" "It wasn't a 'she' at all; it was a gentleman-a book agent." "A what?" "A book agent, and, to get rid of his importuning, I bought his book, the 'Early Christian Martyrs.' See, here it is." "I don't want to see it." "Why, husband?” "Because that rascally book agent sold me the same book this morning. Now we've got two copies of the same book-two copies of the 'Early Christian Martyrs,' and-"} "But, husband, we can- 99 "No, we can't, either! The man is off on the train before this. Confound it! I could kill the fellow "Why, there he goes to the depot now!" said Mrs. Watson, pointing out of the window at the retreating form of the book agent making for the train. "But it's too late to catch him, and I'm not drest. I've taken off my boots, and Just then Mr. Stevens, a neighbor of Mr. Watson, drove by, when Mr. Watson pounded on the window-pane in a frantic manner, almost frightening the horse. "Here, Stevens! You're hitched up! down to the train and hold that book Catch 'im now!" Won't you run your horse agent till I come? Run! "All right," said Mr. Stevens, whipping up his horse and tearing down the road. Mr. Stevens reached the train as the conductor shouted "All aboard!" "Book agent!" he yelled, as the book agent stept on the train. "Book agent! hold on! Mr. Watson wants to see you." "Watson? Watson wants to see me?" repeated the seemingly 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, I can pay for it and take it 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 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 utter ance. "Well, I got it for you," said Stevens; "just got it and that's all." "Got what?" " "Got the book-'Early Christian Martyrs,' and paid "By-the-great-guns!" moaned Watson, as he placed his hand to his brow and swooned right in the middle of the street. THE COON'S LULLABY (Sings) ANONYMOUS Heah, yo' Rastus, shet yo' sleepy head, Mammy's gwine tuh rock huh lamb tuh res'- Swing oh; swing oh;-Lucy whar yo' bin so late? Hurry up yo' rascals fo' dah's corn bread on de plate, Fo' mammy loves huh honey, yes she do! Swing oh; swing oh; fo' mammy loves huh honey, yes she do. Swing oh; swing oh; fo' mammy loves huh honey, yes she do. Laws now, Rastus, I done gwine to swat yo' one ha'd, Monst'us drefful Bogie man am waitin' in de ya'd— Swing oh; swing oh;-Petah, yes I see yo' git! Neber in dis whole, roun' wo'ld I seen sich chilluns yit, (Sings) Swing oh; swing oh; fo' mammy loves huh honey, yes she do. Swing oh; swing oh; fo' mammy loves huh honey, yes she do. (After the last chorus the speaker should softly hum the tune again, with an occasional "Sh!" to the audience, and with pantomime of putting the baby in the cradle, putting it to sleep, and softly tiptoeing out.) mam my loves huh hon ey, yes she do. PARODY ON BARBARA FRIETCHIE ANONYMOUS Drough der streeds of Friedrichtown, All day drough Friedrichtown so fasd, Und der repel flag skimmerin' oud so pright, Off all der flags dot flopped in der morning vind, Nary a vone could enypody find. Ub shumbed old Miss Frietchie den, Who vas pent down py nine score years und den. She took der flag the men hauled down, Und pud id in der vinder vere all could see Yust den ub came Stonewall Jack, Ridin' on his hosses' pack, Under his prows he squinted his eyes, By gracious, dot old flag make him much surprize. "Halt!" Vell, efery man stood sdill, She freezed on dot olt flag right quick, A look of shameness soon came o'er |