A Trlfky Parrot.
RATHKIt dignified young woman
entered a florist's shop on Mndl-
son avenue. A shrill voice, re-
'jJJs$i sembllng that of an old woman,
Vial I erected her with:
"Shut the door! Don't you know It la
cold 7"
Much cmbarmsnrd she looked about for
thp pjoakcr, saying: "Kxcuso mo, but the
wind blew so hard I could hardly tcoac the
door."
Then, to her great astonishment, sho
found she had been conversing with a
parrot. Angered nt tho bird for deceiving
her bo, the turned her buck to tho cage
and was Intent upon examining some flow
ers. Suddenly the Bame voice, or what
Becined to be, said to her:
"What can I do for you, miss?"
"If you hold your tongue I shall be grati
fied above all tilings," replied the young
woman, turning around as she spoke and
discovering the florist's wife. New York
Press.
Punishment Dtmlttrd.
" Senator Dolliver of Iowa tells this story
on himself: "I reached a certain small
town during a campaign," said he, "and
found that tho proprietor of the hotel
where I usually stopped was in Jail. Ho
hnd gone there of his own accord, rather
than pay a Judgment which he considered
unjust. He asked the sheriff to please let
him out for two hours to hear his old
friend Dolliver spenk. The sheriff agreed,
and sent an order for the release of the
prisoner for two hours for that purpose.
"Then he considerately added at the end
f the order: "The rent of your punish
ment Is remitted.' "
The It)I'lt'N llookmark.
The San Francisco land grabbers methods
of conveying bribe money to employes of
the land office recalls the manner In which
a certain lobbyist out west used to make
It "worth while" for legislator to vote
as he wished. A Hlble society had placed
a copy of tho scriptures In each room of
every hotel In the state. Whenever the
lobbyist wished to bribe a member of
the legislature he would Invite him to
his room and, after going over all the
legitimate arguments in favor of his meas
ure, would nsk If the legislator hail ever
read the book of Job. It was a fairly safo
guess that he had not, but even If he hud,
it mudo no difference.
"It is a wonderful story," the lobbyist
would say, "and I think you would find
It profitable to read it." Then he would
place the lliblc in his guest's hand, bidding
him read Job while he, the lobbyist,
Btcpped out for a few moments.
"How do you like it as far as you have
read?"he would ask when ho returned.
If the legislator Bald he liked it, the
lobbyist knew that the bank noto which
lie had previously placed between the
leaves at the beginning of the book of
Job was of a satisfactory denomination.
Brooklyn Eagle.
Spend fleasan with a Hear,
Judge Henderson M. Somervllle of the
Board of United States General Appraisers
once defended an Arkansas negro charged
with robbery. The defense was an alibi.
When the defendant took tho stand he de
clared that ho could not have been at the
scene of the crime at the time It was com
mitted, because It was "berry time" and
ho was In the woods.
"But how do you know you were In the
woods on that particular day?" he was
asked.
"Because, boss," was the reply, "on .flat
my I met a bar. He wua de blgges' bar
s5 .V cT W
I ever did see, and I run an' I run, till I
come out on de lake, an' de Ice broke, an"
I fell in an' wui nearly drowned."
"I thought you said It was berry time?"
tho prosecuting attorney exclaimed.
"So It win, boss, when I met ,dat bar,
but he chased mo from Juno clear Into
January." New York Times.
They Itellrvcil In Omens.
Mollle Shawlier believes In omens. She
Works for Mrs. Jeff Sizemore of Marlon,
Ind., or did until recently. Mrs. Sizomore
also believes in omens and signs and
things.
Mrs. Sizemore was upstairs. She started
down. At the same time Mollle started
up.
"On back!" shouted Mrs. Sizemore. "It's
bad luck to pass on a stairway."
"I won't go back," answered Mollle; "it's
bad luck to turn back after you start
upstairs."
"I say you will go back," retorted Mrs.
Sizemore In a threatening voice.
"I say I will not go back," retorted
Mollle.
They "mixed." When the breeze had
blown over and the police took Mollle to
Jull, where she displayed a badly disfig
ured countenance, she said: 'I wouldn't
turn back for her. I turned back once be
fore for a woman In IjOuIsvIHc, where I
worked, nnd the next day my husband got
a divorce from me." Topeka Journal.
A Mean Man.
"My desr," Bald Mrs. Newlywed, her
face flushed with the excitement of her
afternoon In the kitchen, "I want you to
be perfectly frank with mo now. What
would you suggest to improve these dough
nuts I made today?"
"Well," replied Mr. Newlywed, lifting
ono with a slight effort. "I think it might
be better If you made the hole bigger."
Philadelphia Telegraph.
Told On Himself.
The late Tom Ochiltree was touring Texas
with Grant after tho civil war. and on ono
occasion being compelled to do his share of
Story telling told the following on himi-elf:
"A few months before the end of tho civil
war I was sent by the commanding general
on a special and Important mission. 1 had
Somo dispatches that must go through, and
I had to take a very roundabout way to
deliver them. After delivering them I took
a shorter road back, and on my way I
passed through part of tho country where
1 formerly lived, stopping ono night at a
large farm house that was 'occupied by an
old lady and her daughter, with the usual
complement of negroes. I dismounttd and
asked the old woman If she could accom
modate me and my horse over night. She
replied that men with my uniform were
always welcome to everything she had.
"Well, after partaking of a splendid sup
per, of course we got to talking about the
war. After an hour or two the daughter
asked me to what army I belonged. I told
her; then sho said sho had a brother in
that army and wanted to know if I was
acquainted with him. I told her that I re
gretted very much to tell her that her
brother was dead and that I was the last
man to leave his grave. At that she burst
Into tears and, running into the parlor,
dropped on the sofa, weeping bitterly. The
old woman was considerably affected, but
had better control of herself than her
daughter. Our conversation kept up for a
while, and as the conversation went on
the old woman found out that we were old
acquaintances. As soon as she found that
out she Jumped up nnd ran to where the
daughter was crying, and said:
- 'Daughter, Btop crying this minute.
Your brother Is Bound and well. I am sure
of It, for Hint man out there Is no one but
that red-headed Tom Ochiltree, and be
would rather lie on credit than tell tho
truth for cash." Philadelphia ledger.
Had l.nek at lMt.
"Sheriff Storey's unties lately," began the
elderly politicimi, "makes me wunt to g.vo
him the same advico that tho Irishman
gave the corpse with the largo gold lliled
front tooth.
"What was that?"
"Why, you remember tho story of the
woman that lost her husband in tho surf at
Iing Beach ono summer? lie went swim
ming, got too far out and didn't get back.
Tho widow offered a reward for the body,
and finally, about two weeks later, a sure
enough floater stranded somewhere down
the beach. It was found by a couple of
Irishmen, who had heard of tho jno reward.
So they brought the remains up to where
the widow was staying. She came, saw
and wept, and then gave directions for thj
dlspnrul of the body. Just as It was being
removed the lower Jaw fell open, as some
times happens, revealing a largo gold-filled
front tooth.
" 'That's not my husband!' exclaimed
the woman. 'Ho had false teeth. I shall
not pay you for this. Take It away.'
"And she marched Into the house with
some show of Indignation that she so nearly
had been tricked.
"Tho Irishmen looked after her and then
at one another. Then one shook his flat
vindictively at tho remains.
" "Had 'cess to you, he muttered; 'If
you'd a-kept yor mouth shut you'd a-got
a dacent funeral.' "Newark News.
He Wouldn't Dictate.
"Near my homo over In Virginia," says
tho business woman, "there is a small
Baptist church where every Sunday a
colored man called Undo Kastus preaches.
I have always suspected that Undo Kastus
doesn't know how to read, though bo won't
confess It. 1 am sure his eldest daughter
selects bis texts for him, but I wouldn't
daro tell him I think so. Ho came to see
me the last time I was at home and I
promised to send him a new lilble from
Washington. His last namo Is Kobcrtson
or Kohinson, and when I was asking him
how 1 should address the package, I In
quired how he spelled his name. Uncle
Kastus wasn't to be caught by any such
transparent trick as that.
"'Well, Miss Betty,' he said, 'I nln't
a-going to tell you how I spells It. You
Jes' sicll It the way you likes best. I
certainly ain't a-going to dictate to a
lady.' "Washington Post.
W liar's at Veal P
They were lounging in Senator Foraker's
smoking room the other night, Speaker
Cannon and a dozen senators and repre
sentatives, and this was Senator Caxniack's
story, wiien it got up to him:
"Just after the war, in reconstruction
days, tho democrats down my way hired a
negro to do some campaigning among his
own race. This negro dwelt with great
fervor upon tho scandalous way the north,
was treating tho returning southerners.
" 'Why,' snld tho negro orator, 'de prod
igal son was treated better dan de.se white
folks is being treated. You all remembers
about dut prodigal son. When he come
back his father met him while he was yet
afar off, and put a ring on his finger and
a new robe on him, and killed do fatted
calf yes, suh, de fatted calf.'
"Then a republican negro campaigner
followed. 'Hat nigger didn't tell you all
right about dat fatted calf business,' he
said. "le straight ob de story was another
way. You must remember dat de prodigal
son was sorry for his misdoings. Ite came
back and 'lowed to his father dat he was
not worthy to be his son, but was willing to
go right out Into de cotton Held wld de
oder Held hands and pick cotton.
"'Is dese yore southern white 'folks
sorry? No, snh; not a bit. lcy don't sup
pllcate for anything. Iey Just strops a six
shooter 'rnun' 'cmsclvcs, stalks in and
says, "Whnr Is dat veal?""
Sure to Kill.
Captain Jack Crawford, "the poet scout,
tells a story of the time when In their
Indian campaign Crook nnd Miles were
rivals for the brigadier epaulets, which
finally fell to tho latter. Crawford waa
passing Crook's tent one night and found,
him looking Intently at a particularly bril
liant star. The scout saluted and said:
"There's miles nnd Miles between you and
that stnr, nln't there?" Crook acknowl
edged the jam with a "humph," and Crnw
ford passed on. Half an hour later Crook
Bent for him and said: "I want you lo go
Into tho hostilo country and find Sitting
Hull." This wns practically sure death,
but Crawford said: "Yes. sir, and when I
get there, what then?" "Read him one of
your poems and that will kill him," roared
Crook.
Get There or do.
Senator Dolllvcr's remark about the three
young men who started life together with
stern resolves nnd accomplished the re-solves-hlmsdf.
"Hays of Wabash" and Sir
William Van Home recalls a famous Bay
ing of the last named of tho trio.
When Sir William was president of the
Canadian Pacific railway, tho racing of
thnt road's and the Grand Trunk trains
Into Montreal was a constant sourco of'
danger to the public. Agitation grew hot.
Tho city passed a law to prohibit It. Van
Horno called his engineers together one
morning and read aloud tho ordinance.
"Now. men." bo said, "that's the law,
and you've got to obey It. I shall suspend
any engineer who breaks It. Hint's all
I've got to say except this: Clod help tha
engineer that lets a Ornnd Trunk train
bent him into this town!" New York
Times.
What lie Proposed to Itedoce.
fleneral Iiconnrd Wood, at one time a.
Burgeon himself. Is fond of stories In which
tho Joko Is on the doctor. Ho tells this
one;
A doctor was sought by a man who fan
cied there was something wrong with, his
heart. The physician made a cursory ex
amination, which disclosed a largo swelling
In the man's cnrdlac region.
"There certainly appears to be an extraor
dinary swelling right here," said the
physlelnn, tapping with his finger on the
man's side. "We must reduce this at once,
Blr; at once!"
A faint smile came to the face of tha
patient.
"Oh, Doc!" ho exclaimed, "that swelling
is ray podtctbook! Don't reduco It too
much, please!" New York Press.
Onto Uie Job.
TJeutennnt General Adna H. Chaffee told
the following story tho other day as Illus
trating the unconscious humor which the
Irishman is so often addicted to: "A true
Bon of tho Kmerald Isle had upplled at a
recruiting station In Buffalo for enlistment
In the army. The officer In charge asked
him. Jokingly, I suppose. If ho knew any
thing about drilling. 'Drlllln', was It ye
Bald, sor?' replied the Irishman. 'An
shuro I've wurked in the New York sub
way fir two years. Drlllln', bedod! Ask
me another, Bor." "