ner. The bishop, flushed and furious, his watch dangling from its
chain, floundered wildly after him. But as he rounded the corner he ran
plump into the outstretched arms of the venerable Bishop of London.

"Oxford, Oxford," remonstrated that surprised dignitary, "why this
unseemly haste?"

Puffing, blowing, spluttering, the outraged Bishop gasped out:

"That young ragamuffin--I told him it was half past five--he--er--told
me to go to hell at half past six."

"Yes, yes," said the Bishop of London with the suspicion of a twinkle in
his kindly old eyes, "but why such haste? You've got almost an hour."

Skilful alike with tongue and pen,
He preached to all men everywhere
The Gospel of the Golden Rule,
The New Commandment given to men,
Thinking the deed, and not the creed,
Would help us in our utmost need.

--_Longfellow_.

_See also_ Burglars; Contribution box; Preaching; Resignation.

CLIMATE

In a certain town the local forecaster of the weather was so often wrong
that his predictions became a standing joke, to his no small annoyance,
for he was very sensitive. At length, in despair of living down his
reputation, he asked headquarters to transfer him to another station.

A brief correspondance ensued.

"Why," asked headquarters, "do you wish to be transferred?"

"Because," the forecaster promptly replied, "the climate doesn't agree
with me."

CLOTHING

One morning as Mark Twain returned from a neighborhood morning call,
sans necktie, his wife met him at the door with the exclamation: "There,
Sam, you have been over to the Stowes's again without a necktie! It's
really disgraceful the way you neglect your dress!"

Her husband said nothing, but went up to his room.

A few minutes later his neighbor--Mrs. S.--was summoned to the door by a
messenger, who presented her with a small box neatly done up. She opened
it and found a black silk necktie, accompanied by the following note:
"Here is a necktie. Take it out and look at it. I think I stayed half an
hour this morning. At the end of that time will you kindly return it, as
it is the only one I have?--Mark Twain."

A man whose trousers bagged badly at the knees was standing on a corner
waiting for a car. A passing Irishman stopped and watched him with great
interest for two or three minutes; at last he said:

"Well, why don't ye jump?"

"The evening wore on," continued the man who was telling the story.

"Excuse