X 



THE GUIDE TO NATURE 



Secc'mo Fuooa 



First FLOon 



Not the Fault of the Bird. 



"You're a swindler," exclaimed A'lrs. 

 Gobb, as she entered the bird store. 

 "You're worse than a highway robber. 

 You ought to be ashamed of yourself to 

 •cheat a poor, innocent woman the way 

 you did. That parrot I bought of you 

 last week is a fraud. You said it was a 

 fluent talker and you charged me a big 

 price for him too, and that bird hasn't 

 said a single word since I got him. Xot 

 •one word. Do you hear me ? not — one — 

 single — word !" 



"Perhaps," suggested the bird fancier, 

 "you didn't give him a chance." — Xeiv 

 York Globe. 



An Extensive Planter of Peas! 



A congressman received almost daily 

 letters from a constituent asking for 

 garden seed, with emphasis on peas. The 

 demand for peas got so heavy that the 

 congressman was moved to write this 

 letter : 



"I am sending you a half dozen more 

 packages of peas as requested. Say, 

 what are you trying to do down there, 

 plant the whole state in peas?" 



The reply came a few days later. It 

 read: 



"No, I'm not planting them, but they 

 make bully soup. Send along some iuore. 

 — New York Globe. 



Hepaticas. 



On the sunny hillside are they found, 

 Close above the warm protecting ground; 

 Delicate and fragile baby blooms, 

 Fresh from the Springtime's busy looms. 



— Emma Peirce. 



Sunday School Teacher: "Did you 

 ever forgive an enemy?" "Tommy Tuff- 

 nut: "Oncest." Sunday School Teacher : 

 "And what noble sentiment prompted 

 you to do it?" Tommy Tuff nut : "He 

 was bigger dan me." — Life. 



Old Gentleman : "Well, my boy, and 

 when does your birthday come?" Boy 

 (who has been cautioned not to fish for 

 presents) : "Oh, it passed by a long time 

 ago — a year next Saturday." — Melbourne 

 Leader. 



Fashion has a stern decree 



That jewels should at night be worn; 

 Nature laughs decrees to scorn. 



And wears her jewels in the morn! 



— Emma Peirce. 



An elderly church warden, in shaving" 

 himself one Sunday before church time, 

 made a slight cut with the razor on the 

 extreme end of his nose. Quickly calling 

 his wife, he asked her if she had any 

 court-plaster in the house. "You will find 

 some in my sewing basket," she said. The 

 warden soon had the cut covered. At the 

 church, in assisting with the collection, 

 he noticed every one smile as he passed 

 the plate, and some of the younger people 

 laughed outright. Very much annoyed, 

 he asked a friend if there was anything 

 wrong with his appearance. "Well, I 

 should think there is," was the answer. 

 "What is that on your nose?" "Court- 

 plaster." "No," said his friend, "It is the 

 label of a spool of cotton. It says 'war- 

 ranted 200 yards long.' " — Pittsburgh 

 Chronicle-Telegraph. 



