a fog-bank.

   "Umph," said the ostrich as he surveyed his victim, "because a man looks sad at the opening of a jack-pot, it doesn't necessarily follow that he's only got ace-high."

   An ass felt it his duty to destroy superstition, so he went up to the brass idol in the market-place and gave it a vigorous kick.

   A dog came to him as he lay groaning on the ground, nursing his broken leg, and said, "Well, did you prove anything?"

   "Nothing," said the other. "Except that I am an ass."

   Deductions to be drawn: Any old thing.

   A Bee, the queen of all the hives, ascended to Olympus with a present of some super-refined honey for Jupiter.

   The god was delighted with the honey, and in return offered to grant any request the Bee might make.

   "Give to me, I pray, O Lord of the Heavens! a sting, that, small and weak as I am, I may not be defenceless against my enemies."

   Jupiter was quite put out at this demand, as he knew the weapon would be used principally against mankind, whom he much loved. But a god's promise must be kept, so he said:

   "It is granted you."

   "Many thanks, most potent one!" cried the Bee, running the new-gained weapon in and out with much satisfaction.

   Jupiter sternly cut short her thanks, and continued:

   "In using this means of defense and offense you will imperil your own life, for the sting shall remain in the wound it makes and you shall die from the loss of it."

   The Bee flew around for a moment, and then lit on the back of the god's neck.

   "You will kindly reconsider that last clause," she said, "or," in a very meaning tone, "I die right here."

   Jupiter felt a cold chill take its agitated way up his spinal column.

   "All right," he said, hastily. "I don't want to be small about it. Have it your own way. Only please get off my neck!"

   The Bee went joyously back to earth, humming a song of praise.

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