g down to the street below and fell flat on his back in the mud;
but "truth crushed to earth will rise again!" He rose, and standing
with his back against a lamp post, he looked up into the faces that were
gazing down, and said in an injured tone: "Gentlemen, (hic) you may be
able to fool some people, but, (hic) you can't fool me, (hic) I know
what made you kick me down them stairs, (hic, hic). You don't want me
up there--that's the reason!" So, life hath its discords as well as its
harmonies.

There was music in the magnificent parlor of a modern Chesterfield.
It was thronged with elegant ladies and gentlemen. The daughter of the
happy household was playing and singing Verdi's "Ah! I have sighed to
rest me;" the fond mother was turning the pages; the fond father was
sighing and resting up stairs, in a state of innocuous desuetude,
produced by the "music" of old Kentucky Bourbon; but he could not
withstand the power of the melody below. Quickly he donned his clothing;
he put his vest on over his coat; put his collar on hind side foremost;
buttoned the lower buttonhole of his coat on the top button, stood
before the mirror and arranged his hair, and started down to see the
ladies and listen to the music. But he stumped his toe at the top of the
stairs, and slid down head-foremost, and turned a somersault into the
midst of the astonished ladies. The ladies screamed and helped him to
his feet, all crying at once: "Are you hurt Mr. 'Rickety'--are you
hurt?" Standing with his back against the piano he exclaimed in an
assuring tone: "Why, (hic) of course not ladies, go on with your music,
(hic) that's the way I always come down----!"

[Illustration: MR. "RICKETY."]

Two old banqueters banqueted at a banquet. They banqueted all night
long, and kept the banquet up together all the next day after the
banquet had ended. They kept up their banqueting a week after the
banquet was over. But they got separated one morning and met again
in the afternoon. One of them said: "Good mornin':" The other said:
"Good evenin'!" "Why;" said one, "It's mornin' an' that's the sun;
I've investigated the queshtun." "No-sir-ee," said the other, "You're
mistaken, it's late in the evenin' an' that's the full moon." They
concluded they would have no difficulty about the matter, and agreed to
leave it to the first gentleman they came to to settle the question.
They locked arms and started down the street together; they staggered
on till they came upo