Some Snap Shots
at the Little Ones
fg$K f In Darkest America.:' jl2
Good Short Stories
A Memphis gontlomun who has Just ro
turnoil (rum an overland trip through Miss
issippi says that ono day hu stopped tit u
negro cabin to tusk tho way to thu village
(or which ho woo bound,
In reply to this hull mi old whito-liendod
man camo to tho door and tho following
conversation took place:
"Can you toll mo how to got to H 7"
naked tho traveler.
"Snltlnly I kin, Bali," replied thu darky.
"You follow dlB horo road till Jlst before
you Kits in sight oh do next houso and doi.
you turns to de right and dar ain't no odder
road to put you oft again from dar on till
you gits whar you Is a-golng."
One of those drummers who does a good
deal of driving about tho country delights
in telling about an old-tlnio bonlfaco who
runs a country hotel within a day's drive of
Dotrolt, relates the Free PreBs.
"Sharp as a tack," declares tho drummer.
"Always us smooth na oil until someono
trios to nmko n run on him and then he
can get back harder, faster and In fewer
words than any man I over heard talk.
"1 saw a man eomo In there ono day
from tho city. lie la all right nt home, but
was feeling his oats that day and opened
up on the old landlord by saying: 'Hello,
grandad, get your frame Into circulation.
Don't set around horo llko a bump on n
log. I want accommodation for man and
boast."
" 'Where's tho man?' asked tho old chap
In a Hash."
Mark Twain's daughter, MIbs Clorn L.
Clemens, In entering upon her career bb a
concert singer, hod a long conference with
a manager, relates tho Saturday evening
Tost. Many matters were discussed, plans
tnado and detallB settled, Miss Clemens dic
tating hor own Ideas, The young singer,
who had experienced considerable difficulty
In obtaining parental consent to a public
career, showod her earnestness by tho busi
nesslike manner In which she looked Into
affairs,
When matters had been fully considered
and tho manager was about to leave Miss
Clemens said, with the largo determination
that small bodies not Infrequently possess.
"1 wish It distinctly understood that my
father's name Is not to bo mentioned at nil
In connection with my singing In public."
Mark Twain, who had been sitting In the
room during the Interview, In which, how
ever, he had tnkon no pnrt, looked up
quizzically and said with n twinkle In his
eyes:
"You see what It Is to have a thankless
child."
"We went to Now Orlenns by way of
Hot Springs and Toxas," said tho girl who
camo homo rocently decked with tho green
and orango and purple of tho carnival
colors, reports tho Washington Post. "Leav
ing Hot Springs wo changed enrs at n
place called Malvorn. Tho porter w"8 pol
ishing my boots as wo camo Into tho sta
tion where wo .were to wait for tho train.
Tho iiaino seemed familiar to me. Then I
recalled Hrot Harto's poem.
" 'Is Malvern Hill near hero?" I asked.
"i can't say, madam," he nnswind,
mii",,ly ' neVLr Iaiml of Mnlvurn
" 'Mover heard of it?' I said. 'Why,
there was a great battlo fought there.'
" 'Lately?' ho inquired.
" 'Mo,' 1 said, 'during tho civil war. Why,
it was nt Malvern Hill that the colled
troops fought so gallantly. 1 should think
every colored man would know about
thnt.'
"Ho looked up at mo, seriously, almost
reprovingly. ,
"'Madam,' sold he, 'I never Inquires
Into trouble. I ain't never been n man of
won' "
Thoro Is nothing so democratic ns fair
minded Ignornnco, observes tho Philadel
phia Press. It respects no moro than docs
death. It Is being told Just now how n
inombor of n certain well-known club In
Philadelphia eamo across a striking ex
ample of this. There had been a theolog
ical discussion in tho smoking room and to
sustnln his argument this member called
ono of tho library assistants, n fellow. It
must bo owned, but newly engaged for thu
plnco. "Is Justin Martyr In tho library?"
OBked tho cnsulst. "I don't know, sir,"
replied tho nttendant. "I don't think he
Is a member, but I'll ask tho porter." This
story sounds somehow as if It were not
quite new, but there Is nnother ono, truly
nn old ono, about tho lato Dean liurgou.
which Is somewhat nlong the samo lines.
Ho caught himself ono day whon talking of
tho nature of man ns distinct from the
lower orders of crentlon. "Man," ho de
clared, Ms a progressive being; tho others
nro stationary. Think, for example, of the
nss! Always and everywhere It Is tho
samo crenturo, and you never saw and
nover will seo a moro porfoct nss than
you soo nt tho present moment!"