ed largely of philanthropy. After that age, gray
hairs start out upon the temple, and "old lady" becomes the
tune--no longer old maid.

GRAVE, GAY, AND EPIGRAMMATIC.

COMPENSATION.

"Too late!" he shrieked--with bulging eyes
He watched the train pull out--
And, overcome, gave vent to rage
In one tremendous shout.

"We'd caught the thing in plenty time!"
He turned around and said:
"But for the hour you took to put
That hat upon your head!"

"I know it!" happily smiled his wife;
"But did you notice, sweet,
How everybody rubbered 'round
When we came down the street?"

_New York World._

EASTER GOSSIP.

Dey's done had chicken at her house,
It's easy tellin' dat
By de contentment in her face
An' de feathers in her hat.

_Washington Star._

FAR FROM MARKET.

Soon after the Civil War, General Ingalls, U.S.A., visited a friend in the
South. Taking a walk one morning he met a boy coming up from the river
with a fine string of fish.

"What will you take for your fish?" asked the general.

"Thirty cents," was the reply.

"Thirty cents!" repeated the general in astonishment. "Why, if you were in
New York you could get three dollars for them."

The boy looked critically at the officer for a moment and then said,
scornfully:

"Yes, suh; en' I reckon if I had a bucket of water in hell I could get a
million dollars for it."--_Saturday Evening Post._

MOZART'S MILITARY MARCH.

Cardinal Gibbons was facetious when the Irish ladies' choir of Dublin
called on him. Turning suddenly, he asked:

"Which one of you is the oldest?"

None claimed the honor and all blushed. The talk drifted around to Gilmore
and his band, and Cardinal Gibbons told of how Gilmore, at Coney Island,
hearing that the cardinal was in the audience, played "Maryland, My
Maryland," and how it pleased him.

"Gilmore," said the cardinal, "was famous for his playing of Mozart's
'Twelfth Mass.' Once he played it in a North Carolina town and next day
the local paper announced that he rendered with great effect Mozart's
'Twelfth Massachusetts.'"

_Pittsburgh Dispatch._

THE BOSS.

Who is it, when the people rise
And make the welkin ring with cries
For freedom, sits with upturned eyes?
The Boss.

Who is it makes a little slate
And nominates the candidate--
But lets the people pay the freight