LITMIR.BIZ

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chew of tobacco, and thought it all over.

      "I won't do it," he finally said.

      "All right, then," she replied; "I'll write to Mrs. CUPID and tell her the whole story, and I'll stay here besides. It'll be hard enough on me for a while if I go, and harder still if I stay; but I'll do it to spite you. I'll break off your match with Mrs. CUPID if I do stay, now mark my words."

      JEFFRY MAULBOY walked back and forth, and emitted the choicest string of curses that his extensive and valuable collection enabled him to cull. At last he stopped in front of her, and said savagely:

      "I'll do it. But if you ever lisp a word to any living soul till I'm safely married to CUPID, I'll kill you, dead sure. Do you hear that?"

      "When and how is the thing to be done?" he growled again.

      "The sooner the better," was ANN'S reply. "If you don't hear from me by to-morrow noon, go to the Half-way House at Forney's Crag. That's all you've got to do. I'll have the lawyer and minister both there. You'd better be there too. That's all I say."

      Alone in his room, JEFFRY admitted that ANN had been too smart for him.

      "And I'm mighty afraid that, somehow or other, the old she-dragon will get the best of me yet in this infernal business," he soliloquized. "Anyhow, I'll sleep on it," and he went to bed.

      He got up in the morning, firmly resolved to break his engagement with ANN.

      "She was only bluffing me last night," he said. "She daren't tell CUPID." But he didn't feel easy for all that.

      After breakfast he took his hat and started out.

      "Where are you bound, JEFF?" inquired ARCHIBALD.

      "Anywhere," was the reply. "Come along."

      JEFFRY was awful dull company, so Archibald thought. He took very large chews of tobacco, and expectorated freely into the eyes of the small boys whom they chanced to meet, and if he didn't make a good shot, he swore awfully. Once he went away across a field on purpose to kick a very small dog, and ARCHIBALD waited for him.

      "Why, JEFFRY," said ARCHIBALD, "what ails you? You're awfully down in the mouth this morning."

      "And so you'd be if you was in my boots," was the reply.

      And then he up and told ARCHIBALD the whole story.

      The latter was so thoroughly dumbfounded that a decently-smart boy could have blown him over without any apparent effort.

      "Why, JEFF," said he, "only to think of it. Ain't it awful? And ANN BRUMMET, too; ain't I glad it ain't me, though."

      "That's no way to console a fellow, you fool," said JEFFRY. "You'd better offer to help me out of the scrape."

      "Why, so I will, of course," said ARCHIBALD. "If I hadn't saved your life, of course you wouldn't have got into it; and so I feel bound, you know, to see you out of it. What shall I do?"

      "Why, just go over to the Half-way House, and tell ANN I can't come. Tell her I've got the small-pox, or broke my leg, or my old man's dying—or anything, so that she understands I can't come."

      "You'd better give me a letter," said ARCHIBALD, "and I'll slip it under her door and run off. I never could remember all that, I should be so flustered, you know."

      "No," replied JEFFRY, "I shan't give you any letter. I ain't fool enough to commit myself to any woman in black and white."

      "Well," replied ARCHIBALD drearily, "just as you say. Oh, what a knowing man the Hon. MICHAEL is! He said you'd make me pay that debt of saving your life, sooner or later, and it's turned out sooner. But I'll go, JEFFRY, if I can get away from BELINDA. She tags me round everywhere, and wants to court me all the time. Ain't it dreadful? What time shall I go?"

      "Three o'clock," answered JEFFRY. "Tell her I'd come if I could but I can't anyhow. Be sure and tell her that, and anything else you've a mind to."

      (To be continued.)

      PIGEON ENGLISH

      Certainly newspaper writers are given to making very remarkable statements. In describing General CHANGARNIER, a newspaper lately informed us that "he stoops his head, which is sprinkled over with a few gray hairs when walking." Now, if the general's head be sprinkled when walking, we may fairly infer that the gray hairs, unless brushed off, remain upon it when it stands still. We are additionally mystified by the further statement—still with reference to the same officer—that "he enjoys the personal demeanor of the French people to a remarkable degree." This we are very much delighted to hear, although we have not the slightest idea what it means.

      Corroborative

      A late item of war news states that "the Prussians have advanced to Dole," while from several other sources we learn that the Prussians have come to Grief.

      ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS

      Ambergris.—Can you give me the motto of the City of Strasbourg?

      Answer.—We cannot at this moment recall the Flemish version of it, but it means, in English, "We make our own Pies."

      Katrina Shwachenzittern.—We have had some difficulty in deciphering your manuscript. Your grievance, however, seems to be that one of your boarders, an Alsatian, keeps a ten-pound brass cannon in his bedroom, and fires a grand salvo with it whenever a French victory is announced. This, of course, is very foolish. The best way of putting a stop to it would be for your German boarders to keep guns of even larger calibre in their rooms, and fire the Frenchman down. You will then have a perfect right to charge all your boarders for extra fires.

      Ney.—Please explain two things about the war. First: How did the Mobile Guard come to leave Mobile? Second: Is Francs-Tireurs the French for FRANK BUTLER'S black-and-tan terriers?

      Answer.—We cannot perceive much difference between NEY and BRAY.

      Artichoke.—You are mistaken in supposing total deafness to be an indispensable qualification in a candidate for the position of prompter to a theatre.

      Flippertygibbet.—How is the belligerent attitude of the Russian Bear likely to affect the New York money market?

      Answer.—Turn a rushin' bear into any market, and see what the result will be.

      Paterfamilias.—I am the unhappy father of three brace of twins, and wish to dispose of one out of each brace. Can you advise me in the matter?

      Answer.—If you don't mind being put in the Lockup, perhaps you had better apply to "Dr." LOOKUP.

      Sad-you-See.—We cannot sympathize with you in your wail about the markets being "flat." Wait a while, patiently, and they will come "round."

      Peter Dole.—Your questions about cooking turkeys for Thanksgiving Day are so multitudinous, that we can only reply to them generally. In Europe it is the usage for Crowned Heads and their families, only, to eat sausages with their turkey; and, if ever the true story of the Man with the Iron Mask comes to be unveiled, it is more than likely that the mystery will be found to hinge upon that fact.

      A PRESIDENTIAL FLOUT

      According to the Washington special despatches to the Philadelphia Inquirer, the President has tendered a Cabinet appointment to several distinguished members of the Union League of that city. Either from excessive modesty, however, or, as is probable, from prudent doubts as to their ability to fill the position, all of these gentlemen have declined to accept the offer.

      It is surmised that the object of the President's recent visit to Philadelphia (ostensibly to see his old friend, Mr. BORIE), was to examine the roll of the League, comprising two thousand members, for the purpose of selecting one who might serve on a pinch to fill the office in question.

      This was a bitter stroke of satire on the part of Mr. GRANT, since it is generally understood in Philadelphia, that, outside the ranks of the Mutual Admiration Society to which we have referred, there are

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