And thus his Voice rang through the stifling air,
    “Plenty of room in front, move forward, there!”

It was raining; parasols leaked into my shoes, soaking water-proofs embraced me, and monstrous brogans crushed my feet to chaos; then, umbrellas punched my eyes, out, jabbed holes in my hat, and wrote hieroglyphics all over my shirt bosom, while baskets of meat were deposited in my lap, and the intruding tail of a codfish roughly slapped my face a dozen times.

In short, I emerged from that car ruined, wilted, and utterly demoralized.

When I got home my wife didn’t know me, and I could only prove my identity by carefully scraping my feet, hanging up my hat, and otherwise exhibiting the results of her superior disciplinary powers.  My hardest work, however, was to establish the fact that I hadn’t been rolled in the gutter, my rheumatic hobble, dilapidated aspect, and blood-shot eyes telling fearfully against me.

The next time I ride in a horse-car, I shall take a private hack.

S.R.  DEEN.

* * * * *

A Con of the Period.

When this cruel war is over, and crowds of tourists rush to see the place where LOUIS NAPOLEON surrendered, why will that place be like BRYANT’S Minstrels?

Because such a lot of people will go to See DAN.

* * * * *

Con from Our Correspondent in benighted Africa.

Why would CAESAR have made a fine novelist?

Because he was a great Roman—­Sir.

* * * * *

[Illustration:  HAD HIM THERE.

Brown. “BET YOU FIFTY DOLLARS THE WAR IS OVER IN FRANCE IN FIVE DAYS.”

Smith. “BET YOU A HUNDRED IT ISN’T.”

Brown. “SHELL OUT YOUR HUNDRED—­THE WAR IS OVER THERE NOW, ISN’T IT?—­HA!  HA!  HA!”]

* * * * *

LETTER FROM A SCHOOLMASTER.

MR. PUNCHINELLO:  Respected Sir:—­I am a schoolmaster, and in investigating, for the benefit of my pupils (number limited; English and classical courses; French and guitar extra; scholars bring their own slippers and tooth-brushes; privileges of a home, etc., etc.), the vast arena of Science, applied and unapplied, I have found that there are many things that the world does not yet know.  This may surprise you, but it is nevertheless true.  Through the medium of your valuable journal I propose to give to the world, to which we all owe so much, a few hints in regard to the deficiencies of Science, and thus place these, my carefully nurtured ideas, at the service of my race.