1897. 



THE AMERICAN BEE KEEPER. 



185 



" 'Archibald SIoss. ' 



"I starts up wit' a jump. I could 

 hardl}' believe my. ears. The chap in the 

 big box, lookiu down at me, says: 



"The remainder of your sentence is 



remitted for your bravery in nursing 



Commander Jackson and those who were 



sick with the yellow fever." 

 ******* 



"'Oh, glory, halleuiah!' I cries. I 

 couldn't help it. 



"And afore I'd been on old England's 

 shores a week I were copped agin." — 

 Westminster Budget. 



A Story of Du Maurier. 



One day, while taking his favorite 

 walk about the heath, Du Maurier saw 

 a gathering of people on the borders of 

 the shallow pond which is a particular 

 attraction to Hampstead. A thin coat- 

 ing of ice covered the water, excepting 

 ■where a little dog had broken through 

 and was ineffectually struggling to ge4 

 out again. The ice was, however, so 

 ■weak that whenever this little creature 

 drew its front paws up over the edge it 

 broke under his weight and forced him 

 to repeat this painful operation again 

 and again, until it looked as though the 

 poor animal woald become exhausted in 

 his efforts. 



Du Maurier was in delicate health at 

 the time, aud, knowing that the water 

 was nowhere more than three feet deep, 

 called to the idlers in the crowd, 

 "Here's half a crown for the man who 

 fetches that dog ashore." The offer was 

 not accepted, at least not soon enough 

 to satisfy the mercurial artist. So, de- 

 spite the doctor, into the pond rushed 

 Du Maurier, breaking his way through 

 the thin ice until he reached the drown- 

 ing doggie, which he seized in his arms; 

 and brought ashore, amid the cheers of 

 the bystanders. 



His only thought now was to run 

 home rapidly in order to prevent a chill. 

 He was overtaken, however, by a man, 

 who pressed him to accept a piece of 

 money by way of reward. Du Maurier 

 declined, with thanks, and pressed on 

 with renewed vigor. The man, how- 

 ever, would not be discouraged in his 

 charitable intention, but repeateJly 

 urged our artist to accept a tip for his 

 trouble. The annoyance at length grew 

 beyond even Du Maurier's fondness for 

 a joke, for the \iell meaning patron in- 



sisted upon putting a tip into Du Mau- 

 rier's hands while he was fumbling for 

 his doorkey on the front steps of his 

 own house. 



Between this and the miserable chilli- 

 ness of his garments Du Maurier finally 

 forgot that courtliness which was his 

 distinguishing mark and snapped out, 

 "Damn it, go to the devil!" 



"Oh, I beg your pardon, sir!" said 

 the now blushing persecutor. ' 'I did not 

 know you was a gentleman. " — Harper's 

 Weekly. 



There Are Others. 



"What is your husband's politics?" 

 asked the new neighbor. 



"Jim?" said the lady addressed. 

 "Jim? He's a anti. " 



"Anti what?" 



"No; not anti what; jist a anti. He's 

 ag'in anything that happens tobe. "— 

 Cincinnati Enquirer. 



A Man of Resource. 



A good story is told of the late Count 

 Gleichen when he was an embassador 

 in London. At a dinner party it was 

 his hard luck to have to conduct to table 

 a lady of a taciturn and unresponsive 

 nature. 



To all his polite nothings she answer- 

 ed never a word. Nothing daunted, he 

 continued to ply her with small talk, 

 till at last she slowly turned her head 

 toward him and deliberately yawned. 



The count was equal to the occasion. 



"Ah, madam," he said loudly, "I 

 also have sjold in my teeth. " — Strand 

 Magazine. 



More Competent. 



Gussie^ — Really, mamma, I don't 

 know which one I love best — Reggy or 

 Jack. 



Mamma — Why not leav o the choice to 

 some competent judge? 



Gussie — Some one versed in the arts 

 of love? 



Mamma — Dear, no! Some one well 

 up in Bradstreet's. — New York Journal. 



The oldest tree in England is the yew 

 tree at Braburn, in Kent, which is said 

 to be 3,000 years old, while at Fortig- 

 nal, in Perthshire, is one nearly as old. 

 At Ankerv.'yke House, near Staines, is 

 a yew tree which was famous at the 

 date of the signing of Magna Charta. 



