e I went into the village inn, and there
asked the time. But my host could not oblige me. 'I can't tell you
exactly, for, you see,' he said, 'we have no use for clocks. In the
morning we go by the smoke rising from the chimney at the parsonage up
on the hill. The parsonage people are very regular. We dine when dinner
is ready. At 4 P.M. the whistle of the train coming from Massmunster
tells us that the time has come for another meal, and at night we know
that it is time to go to bed when it is dark. On Sunday we go to church
when the bell rings. Our parson is a very easy-going man, and he doesn't
mind beginning half an hour sooner or later."

FORCE OF HABIT.

Force of habit impels us to do a great many ridiculous things. That
clever little compendium of wit and information, _Tit Bits_, well
illustrates this fact with a story of a railway porter, living in
Lancashire, who was in the habit of frequently getting up in his sleep,
and from whose actions it was evident that his daily occupation was ever
present in his mind. One night he jumped up hurriedly, ran down to the
kitchen, vigorously opened the oven door, and cried out, "Change here
for Bolton, Bury, and Manchester."

A PROPER RETORT.

A good story is told of a self-respecting carpenter who was sent to make
some repairs in a private house. As he entered the room in which the
work was to be done, accompanied by his apprentice, the lady of the
house called out, "Mary, see that my jewel-case is locked."

The carpenter understood, and, as he was an honest man, he was
indignant. He had his opportunity, however, and he used it. He removed
his watch and chain from his waistcoat with a significant air, and gave
them to his apprentice.

"John," he said, "take these back to the shop. It seems that this house
isn't safe."

SOMETHING WRONG.

It was a very cold morning, and Bobbie came rushing into the house very
much excited.

"Mommer," he cried, "there's something the matter with me. Please send
for the doctor. _I'm breathing fog!_"

A DOG STORY.

A London dog story is apt to be a hard sort of a tale to believe, but it
is never lacking in interest. The latest is of a dog who takes a daily
walk with its mistress. The animal has observed that at a certain
crossing the policeman stops the traffic to allow his mistress to pass
over. The other day the dog went out alone, and when he came to the
crossing he barked to attract the policema