us, 216?"

"I am--bitious."

"Go, then," cried the editor, rising and waving his hand
imperiously--"go and 'seek the bubble reputation'."

"The bubble shall be sought," the young man replied, and leaping into a
man-hole in the floor, disappeared. A moment later the editor, who after
dismissing his subordinate, had stood motionless, as if lost in thought,
sprang suddenly to the man-hole and shouted down it: "Hello, 216?"

"Aye, aye, sir," came up a faint and far reply.

"About that 'bubble reputation'--you understand, I suppose, that the
reputation which you are to seek is that of the other man."

In the execution of his duty, in the hope of his employer's approval, in
the costume of his profession, Mr. Longbo Spittleworth, otherwise known
as 216, has already occupied a place in the mind's eye of the
intelligent reader. Alas for poor Mr. Inhumio!

A few days after these events that fearless, independent and
enterprising guardian and guide of the public, the San Francisco _Daily
Malefactor_, contained a whole-page article whose headlines are here
presented with some necessary typographical mitigation:

"Hell Upon Earth! Corruption Rampant in the Management of the Sorrel
Hill Cemetery. The Sacred City of the Dead in the Leprous Clutches of a
Demon in Human Form. Fiendish Atrocities Committed in 'God's Acre.' The
Holy Dead Thrown around Loose. Fragments of Mothers. Segregation of a
Beautiful Young Lady Who in Life Was the Light of a Happy Household. A
Superintendent Who Is an Ex-Convict. How He Murdered His Neighbor to
Start the Cemetery. He Buries His Own Dead Elsewhere. Extraordinary
Insolence to a Representative of the Public Press. Little Eliza's Last
Words: 'Mamma, Feed Me to the Pigs.' A Moonshiner Who Runs an Illicit
Bone-Button Factory in One Corner of the Grounds. Buried Head Downward.
Revolting Mausoleistic Orgies. Dancing on the Dead. Devilish
Mutilation--a Pile of Late Lamented Noses and Sainted Ears. No
Separation of the Sexes; Petitions for Chaperons Unheeded. 'Veal' as
Supplied to the Superintendent's Employees. A Miscreant's Record from
His Birth. Disgusting Subserviency of Our Contemporaries and Strong
Indications of Collusion. Nameless Abnormalities. 'Doubled Up Like a
Nut-Cracker.' 'Wasn't Planted White.' Horribly Significant Reduction in
the Price of Lard. The Question of the Hour: Whom Do You Fry Your
Doughnuts In?"

THE OCEAN WAVE

A SHIPWRECKOLLECTION

As I left the house s