h, and he acts kitteny. He acts
the most human when ladies come into the office. If a book agent comes
in, he makes no attempt to show his disgust.

One day an old person came in with a life of Garfield and laid it on
the table, opened to the picture of the candidate, and left it. The
cockroach walked through the violet ink and got his feet all covered,
and then he walked all over that book, and left his mark. The woman saw
the tracks, and thought we had signed our name, and she said she was
sorry we had written our signature there, because she had another book
for subscribers' names.

When a handsome lady comes in, the cockroach is in his element, and
there is a good deal of proud flesh about him. He puts his thumbs in the
arm-holes of his vest and walks around.

One day we put our face up to a deaf young lady to speak to her, and the
cockroach looked straight the other way, and seemed to be looking over
an old copy of the _Christian Statesman_; but when he found we only
yelled at the lady, he winked as much as to say:

"Well, how did I know?"

O, that cockroach is a thoroughbred!

SUMMER RESORTING.

The other day a business man who has one of the nicest houses in the
nicest ward in the city, and who has horses and carriages in plenty, and
who usually looks as clean as though just out of a band box and as happy
as a schoolma'am at a vacation picnic, got on a street car near the
depot, a picture of a total wreck. He had on a long linen duster, the
collar tucked down under the neck band of his shirt, which had no collar
on, his cuffs were sticking out of his coat pocket, his eyes looked
heavy, and where the dirt had come off with the perspiration he looked
pale, and he was cross as a bear.

A friend who was on the car, on the way up town, after a day's work,
with a clean shirt on, a white vest and a general look of coolness,
accosted the traveler as follows:

"Been summer resorting, I hear?"

The dirty-looking man crossed his legs with a painful effort, as though
his drawers stuck to his legs and almost peeled the bark off, and
answered:

"Yes, I have been out two weeks. I have struck ten different hotels, and
if you ever hear of my leaving town again during the hot weather, you
can take my head for a soft thing," and he wiped a cinder out of his eye
with what was once a clean handkerchief.

"Had a good, cool time, I suppose, and enjoyed yourself," said the man
who had not been out of town.

"Cool