."

   *    *    *

   The packer from Chicago admired a picture by Rosa Bonheur.

   "How much is that?" he demanded. The dealer quoted the price as $5,000.

   "Holy pig's feet!" the magnate spluttered. "For that money, I can buy live hogs and——"

   His wife nudged him in the ribs, and whispered:

   "Don't talk shop."

   The sister spoke admiringly to the collegian who was calling on her after field day, at which she had been present.

   "And how they did applaud when you broke that record!"

   Her little brother, who overheard, sniffed indignantly.

   "Pa didn't applaud me for the one I broke," he complained. "He licked me."

   A woman lion-hunter entertained a dinner party of distinguished authors. These discoursed largely during the meal, and bored one another and more especially their host, who was not literary. To wake himself up, he excused himself from the table with a vague murmur about opening a window, and went out into the hall. He found the footman sound asleep in a chair. He shook the fellow, and exclaimed angrily:

   "Wake up! You've been listening at the keyhole."

   The visiting Englishman, with an eyeglass screwed to his eye, stared in fascinated horror at the ugliest infant he had ever seen, which was in its mother's arms opposite him in the street car. At last, his fixed gaze attracted the mother's attention, then excited her indignation.

   "Rubber!" she piped wrathfully.

   "Thank God!" exclaimed the Englishman. "I fancied it might be real."

   *    *    *

   The teacher had explained to the class that the Indian women are called squaws. Then she asked what name was given 

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