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Show THE HARVEST OF THE SHEARS. HE WAS A BAPTIST. Elder Keepalong The dust is frightful on this street. Deacon Ironside Yes, it is about as bad as it can be. Elder Keepalong And for about fifty cents a month each we can iiave it sprinkled Deacon Ironside Sprinkled? Never! It's unscriptural. Chicago Tribune. MUST HAVE BEKN" BOPULAR. ';Is this one of the popular songs of the : day?'' enquired the customer in a music store yesterday. "I guess so," said the clerk. "I saw a man bit with a brick this morning for singing sing-ing it. Detroit jPVw Press. HE WAS DEAD OX. Finder You claim to have lost a pocket-book? pocket-book? Desc ribe it. C aller i who has come in response to ad. vertiseinent ) It was a red leather pocket-book, pocket-book, containing ?"-!6.tS0, a promissory note for ?310.'.H, signed by Erastus Ardus, 12 cents in postage stamps, a receipt for exterminating ex-terminating cockroaches, a tax receipt for $3.1-1, a visitintr card with the name of F. ' Pumpskaw, 2(589 Wabash avenue, on it, and a poem on 'Hope,' clipped from a news-I news-I paper. Eleven stanzas of eight lines each." Finder (handing it over with extreme reluctance) That describes it to a dead certainty, but I do believe you are playing a mind-reading game on me. Chicago Tri-bun". Tri-bun". ' HAVE WAX YEUSlLE. A story is told of an Irishman named Pat, who came to this country recently. One day he found a round bit of tin stamped with the name of a big- brewery. A policeman police-man whom he consulted about it told him for a joke that it was a 5-cent niece. So Pat went into a saloon and called for a beer. He drank it and shoved the piece of tin j across the bar. The barkeeper pushed it back and said: "Why, man, that's tin." j And Pat replied: "Faith and Is it tin? I I thought it wor live; have a glass yourself ; thin." Or COtltSE HE WAS. The man fame in and said he wanted to j see the city editor, aud that gentleman re-' re-' sponded. "I heard something today," said the vis-I vis-I itor, -'that I thiDk ought to be printed." j "What is it?" queried the city editor. -'Well, to bc.e-iu, ita perfectly inexplicable j to me, and if you can explain it, I'll be ! obliged." "I'li have to he3r it first," observed the I city editor. . "That's so, excuse inc. It's this: A mau ! told me only this afternoon that he had I travelled on a Pullman car last niirht, and this morning the porter refused to accept the customary quarter." "Possibly he was liiL'h-toned and wanted a ; half-dollar," suggested the news man. "No, that wasn't it. There was no :rar : about it. It was perfectly straight. He said be offered the porter half a dollar, but I that it was refused on the ground that he : i the porter) was receiving fair pay from the I company; that it was his business to be at-I at-I tentive to Mr. Pullman's patrons; that lie j considered it both a duty and a pleasure to i be polite to all passcntrers on his car, and so on through a whole category of unexpected virtu is. Now," continued the visitor, after I a brief pause, "What do you think of that ? I Isn't it worth publishing?" I ''It certainly is," ventured the city editor thoughtfully. I "Can you explain it?" "Easily" asserted the city editor, with easy grac e and profound confidence. The visitor's face was a perfect picture of incredulity. "Come off," he said bluntly. "But I can," protested the man at the desk. "How?" "The man who told it to you was a liar." Detroit Fret Press. . |