s a lead.

When the father only is present, you may be a little reckless. Give the
father a cigar and venture, "Good luck, old man; it looks like your
mother-in-law."

If possible, find out beforehand how old the child is. Call up the
Bureau of Vital Statistics. If it is two months old, say to the mother,
"Rather large for six months, isn't he?"

If the worst has happened and the child really does look like its
father, the most tactful thing is to say, "Children change as they grow
older." Or you may suggest that some mistake has been made at the
hospital and they have brought home the wrong baby.

If left alone in the room with the baby, throw a sound-proof rug over it
and escape.

ABOU BEN WOODROW

(IN PARIS)

[Illustration]

Abou Ben Woodrow (may his tribe increase!)
Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,
And saw, among the gifts piled on the floor
(Making the room look like a department store),
An Angel writing in a book of gold.
Now much applause had made Ben Woodrow bold
And to the Presence in the room said he,
"_Qu'est-ce que c'est que ca que tu ecris?"_
Or, in plain English, "May I not inquire
What writest thou?" The Angel did not tire
But kept on scribing. Then it turned its head
(All Europe could not turn Ben Woodrow's head!)
And with a voice almost as sweet as Creel's
Answered: "The names of those who grease the wheels
Of progress and have never, never blundered."
Ben Woodrow lay quite still, and sadly wondered.
"And is mine one?" he queried. "Nay, not so,"
Replied the Angel. Woodrow spoke more low
But cheerly still, and in his May I notting
Fashion he said: "Of course you may be rotting,
But even if you are, may I not then
Be writ as one that loves his fellow men?
Do that for me, old chap; just that; that merely
And I am yours, cordially and sincerely."
The Angel wrote, and vanished like a mouse.
Next night returned (accompanied by House)
And showed the names whom love of Peace had blest.
And lo! Ben Woodrow's name led all the rest!

MY MAGNIFICENT SYSTEM

In these days when the streets are so perilous, every man who goes about
the city ought to be sure that his pockets are in good order, so that
when he is run down by a roaring motor-truck the police will have no
trouble in identifying him and communicating with his creditors.

I have always been very proud of my pocket system. As others may wish to
install