898. 



THE AMERICAN BEE KEEPER. 



2(> 



Mauifold. 



Cntter — What's the old man with tha 

 ivhiskers writing? 



Peumau— 01], he's getting out some 

 iyndicate stuff. 



"He's uot writing for the papers?" 



"Oh, no. He's a Mormon, and he'n 

 vriting home to his wives." — Yonkerti 

 5tatesmau. 



Potatoes In the Pulpit. 



A clergyman who enjoyed the sub- 

 stantial benefits of a fine farm was 

 slightly taken down on one occasion by 

 uis Irish plowman, who was sitting on 

 ais plow in the wheatfield. The rever- 

 end gentleman, being an economibt, 

 said, with g' eat seriousness: 



"John, wouldn't it be a good plan 

 for you to have a pair of pruning shears 

 tiere and be cutting a few bushes along 

 the fence wnile the horses are rt sting a 

 shoi't time?" 



John, with quite as serious a counte- 

 uance as the divine himsell, said: 



"Look here, wouldn't it be well, sir, 

 for you to have a tub of potatoes in the 

 pulpit, and while they were singing to 

 peel 'em awhile to be rtauy tor the pot?' ' 



The reverend gentleman laughed 

 heartily and left. — Pearson's Weekly. 



Why He Objected. 



The maiden was weeping bitterly. 

 The young man stood opposite her with 

 lushed cheeks and a troubled look on 

 ais face. 



"Then your father has not waited for 

 me to ask for his consent, but has con- 

 peyed his refusal through you?" 



"Yes, Algydear. " (Sob.) 



"And you think there is no chance of 

 tiis relenting?" 

 'N-o-o." 



'But, Lucy, darling, what does your 

 father see in me to object to? Did he 

 5ay?" 



"He said, Algy, that he couldn't see 

 anything in you (sob), and that was why 

 he objected to you." (Sob. )— Pearson's 

 Weekly. 



A Convert of the Wheel. 



"Pedalton used to be very fond of 

 sayiug there is no such thing as perfec- 

 tion in life. " 



"¥'. s Lut that was before he bought 

 his ui w bicycle. " ' — Washington fetar. 



"He" AVas a Woman. 



A person admitted to an English 

 workhouse uot long ago objected to tak- 

 ing the usual bath with the men and 

 confided to the medical officer that "he" 

 was a woman. The woman's story, 

 which she subsequently told, is stranger 

 than fiction. She was educated at a 

 woman's college and married at 16 to a 

 man who ill treated her. She left him 

 and went to live with a brother, who 

 was a painter and decorator. Acquiring 

 a knowledge of the trade, she donned 

 male clothes and became a successful 

 painter and decorator. For 22 years sho 

 lived with htr niece, who kept house 

 for her and posed as the painter's wife. 

 Three months ago she fell from a scaf- 

 fold, and, although she injured her 

 ribs, managed to prevent the doctors 

 from discovering her secret. A failure 

 to obtain employment finally compelled 

 her to seek the shelter of the workhouse, 

 with consequences disastrous to her 

 manhood. — New York Tribune. 



S:evensoti and His Karse. 



Alison Cunningham, Robert Louia 

 Stevenson's old nurse, was much beloved 

 by him, and he sent her a copy of each 

 of his books, with his own inscription 

 on the fly leaf. Generally the inscription 

 is just a line or two, "Alison Cuuniug- 

 hau], irom her boy," or "from htr lad- 

 die." But one of thevolumes, "An In- 

 land Voyage" (1878), contains the fol- 

 lowing : 



My Dear Cunning— If you had not taken so 

 much trouble with me all the years of my 

 childhood, this little book would never have 

 been written. Many a long night you sat up 

 with me when I was ill. I wish I could hope, 

 by way of return, to amuse a single evening 

 for you witn my little book. But, whatever 

 you may think of it, I know you will conunue 

 to think kindly of the aiithor. 



A Story of Wliittier. 



Mrs. Alice Freeman Palmer tells a 

 etory illustrating the almost boyish 

 modesty of the poet Whittier. A little 

 woman forced her way into the ptnetra- 

 lia of a Boston mansion when Whittier 

 was visiting there and, clasping both 

 the poet's hands in her own, exclaimed, 

 "Mr. Whittier, this is the supreme mo- 

 ment of my life!" Whittier stood first 

 on one foot and then on the other, wi h- 

 drew his hands and clasped them behind 

 his back and reulied nrosairallv. "Is io?" 



