ng, will give great
pleasure to the hosts of Israel who are looking forward to that feast of
fat things."

It is a standing rule of a company whose boats ply the Great Lakes that
clergymen and Indians may travel on its boats for half-fare. A short
time ago an agent of the company was approached by an Indian preacher
from Canada, who asked for free transportation on the ground that he was
entitled to one-half rebate because he was an Indian, and the other half
because he was a clergyman.--_Elgin Burroughs_.

Booker Washington, as all the world knows, believes that the salvation
of his race lies in industry. Thus, if a young man wants to be a
clergyman, he will meet with but little encouragement from the head of
Tuskegee; but if he wants to be a blacksmith or a bricklayer, his
welcome is warm and hearty.

Dr. Washington, in a recent address in Chicago, said:

"The world is overfull of preachers and when an aspirant for the pulpit
comes to me, I am inclined to tell him about the old uncle working in
the cotton field who said:

"'De cotton am so grassy, de work am so hard, and de sun am so hot, Ah
'clare to goodness Ah believe dis darkey am called to preach.'"

On one occasion the minister delivered a sermon of but ten minutes'
duration--a most unusual thing for him.

Upon the conclusion of his remarks he added: "I regret to inform you,
brethren, that my dog, who appears to be peculiarly fond of paper, this
morning ate that portion of my sermon that I have not delivered. Let us
pray."

After the service the clergyman was met at the door by a man who as a
rule, attended divine service in another parish. Shaking the good man by
the hand he said:

"Doctor, I should like to know whether that dog of yours has any pups.
If so I want to get one to give to my minister."

Recipe for a parson:

To a cupful of negative goodness
Add the pleasure of giving advice.
Sift in a peck of dry sermons,
And flavor with brimstone or ice.

--_Life_.

A pompous Bishop of Oxford was once stopped on a London street by a
ragged urchin.

"Well, my little man, and what can I do for you?" inquired the
churchman.

"The time o' day, please, your lordship."

With considerable difficulty the portly bishop extracted his timepiece.

"It is exactly half past five, my lad."

"Well," said the boy, setting his feet for a good start, "at 'alf past
six you go to 'ell!"--and he was off like a flash and around the
cor