, and think of the hereafter,
or the heretofore, but that Gipsy warbling "Darling Eyes of Marine
Blue," and forty girls in the wings making up faces, and five hundred
people back of us having fun at our expense was too much, and we just
wanted to die. If there had been a trap door to let us down into the
beer saloon below, we would have taken passage on it in a minute.

But she finally got through singing, the transformation scene came on,
and we went back to our seat in the dress circle, a changed man, and
we never looked at a person in the audience after that, but when the
performance was over and we came out, and Chapin said, "Hello, old man,
guess we got even with you that time," we felt like murdering somebody
in cold blood and feathers. Hereafter if anybody ever catches us taking
a front seat at a leg drama, they can take it out of our wages. Mr.
Speaker, we have spoken.

THE QUEEREST NAME.

There is a case in Chicago where a young man is going to apply to have
his name changed. The man's name is Easus, and he is now about eighteen
years old, and just beginning to go into society. It is alleged that
he was engaged to be married to an heiress, but she has broken off the
engagement until he can get his name changed. She was not very much
mashed on the name, anyway, and Monday night, as she was with him coming
out of Haverly's Theatre, something happened that broke her all up.

The young man's father was a pious man, and he named his son Abijah.
His companion nicknamed him "Bige." Coming out of the theatre with his
intended on his arm, an old friend, a drummer for a Chicago grocery
house, happened to see him, and he went up to him and said, "Why, Bije
Easus, how are you?" Young Mr. Easus shook hands with his friend, and
introduced him to his girl, and she looked at the profane drummer out
of one corner of her eye and trembled for his soul as she thought how he
would be sure to go to hell when he died.

Mr. Easus explained to his friend as they walked out of the building,
that he was engaged to the girl, and when they parted at the platform
of the street car the drummer grabbed her by the hand and shook it as a
terrier would a rat and said, "Well, Mrs. Bije Easus, that is to be, let
me wish you many happy returns."

Mr. Easus colored up, the girl was as mad as a wet hen when she pried
her fingers apart, and they rode home in silence. At the gate she said
to him, "Bije Easus, I never till to-night knew what