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Show A ST. Louis cat died of sunstroke. What this country wants is more sun and less bootjacks. Who says it is unhealthy to sleep in feathers? Look at the spring chicken, and see how tough she is. The little daughter of a leading physician in a certain country town presented the following as her first school essay: "There was a little girl and she was very sick. They sent for my papa and she died very quick." A newly married lady was telling another how nicely her husband could write. "O you should just see some of his love letters." "Yes, I know," was the freezing reply. "I've got a bushel of them in my trunk." A peddler overtook another of his tribe on the road and thus accosted him: "Halloo, friend, what do you carry?" Rum and whisky," was the reply. "Good!" said the other, "you may go ahead. I carry grave-stones." A politician boasted that he could tell any kind of wine or liquor, blindfolded, merely by the taste. He was tried with one kind after another, and readily named them. At last a glass of water was handed him. He tasted it, hesitated, tasted it again, smelled it, retasted it, and then said, "I give it up. That's a brand of liquor I never got hold of before." O, these delightful August nights, when the mosquitoes come around and sample a man and take job lots and sing about it like young calliopes; when the round, red moon rises in the clear horizon for the dogs to bark at and the cats to rave over; when the baby has to be looked after every ten minutes, to see that he hasn't floundered the covers off; when it's too cold for a sheet and too warm for a blanket, when your girl begins to hanker after oranges at seventy-five cents a dozen; and when soda water at ten cents a glass is a drug in the market! Oh, these dear, delightful August nights; how we revel in them. |