g in the
doorway of an Atlanta store. Wondering what the darky could be doing,
standing on a cold, wet night in such a draughty position, the
proprietor of the shop said:

"Jim, what are you doing here?"

"'Sense me, sir," said Jim, "but I'm gwine to sing bass tomorrow mornin'
at church, an' I am tryin' to ketch a cold."--_Howard Morse_.

"The man who sings all day at work is a happy man."

"Yes, but how about the man who works and has to listen to him?" Miss
Jeanette Gilder was one of the ardent enthusiasts at the debut of
Tetrazzini. After the first act she rushed to the back of the house to
greet one of her friends. "Don't you think she is a wonder?" she asked
excitedly.

"She is a great singer unquestionably," responded her more phlegmatic
friend, "but the registers of her voice are not so even as, for
instance, Melba's."

"Oh, bother Melba," said Miss Gilder. "Tetrazzini gives infinitely more
heat from her registers."

At a certain Scottish dinner it was found that every one had contributed
to the evening's entertainment but a certain Doctor MacDonald.

"Come, come, Doctor MacDonald," said the chairman, "we cannot let you
escape."

The doctor protested that he could not sing.

"My voice is altogether unmusical, and resembles the sound caused by the
act of rubbing a brick along the panels of a door."

The company attributed this to the doctor's modesty. Good singers, he
was reminded, always needed a lot of pressing.

"Very well," said the doctor, "if you can stand it I will sing."

Long before he had finished his audience was uneasy.

There was a painful silence as the doctor sat down, broken at length by
the voice of a braw Scot at the end of the table.

"Mon," he exclaimed, "your singin's no up to much, but your veracity's
just awful. You're richt aboot that brick."

She smiles, my darling smiles, and all
The world is filled with light;
She laughs--'tis like the bird's sweet call,
In meadows fair and bright.
She weeps--the world is cold and gray,
Rain-clouds shut out the view;
She sings--I softly steal away
And wait till she gets through.

God sent his singers upon earth
With songs of gladness and of mirth,
That they might touch the hearts of men,
And bring them back to heaven again.

--_Longfellow_.

SKATING

A young lady entered a crowded car with a pair of skates slung over her
arm. An elderly gentleman arose to give her his seat.