It was a pitiful mistake, an error sad and grim.  I waited for the railway train; the light was low and dim.  It came at last, and from a car there stepped a dainty dame, and, looking up and down the place, she straight unto me came.  “Oh, Jack!” she cried, “oh, dear old Jack!” and kissed me as she spake; then looked again, and, frightened, cried, “Oh, what a bad mistake!” I said, “Forgive me, maiden fair, for I am not your Jack; and as regards the kiss you gave, I’ll straightway give it back.”  And since that night I’ve often stood upon that platform dim, but only once in a man’s whole life do such things come to him.

A Kiss in the Rain by SAMUEL MINTURN PECK

  One stormy morn I chanced to meet
    A lassie in the town;
  Her locks were like the ripened wheat,
    Her laughing eyes were brown. 
  I watched her as she tripped along
    Till madness filled my brain,
  And then—­and then—­I know ’twas wrong—­
   I kissed her in the rain.

  With raindrops shining on her cheek
    Like dewdrops on a rose,
  The little lassie strove to speak,
    My boldness to oppose;
  She strove in vain, and quivering,
    Her fingers stole in mine;
  And then the birds began to sing,
    The sun began to shine.

  Oh, let the clouds grow dark above,
    My heart is light below;
  ’Tis always summer when we love,
    However winds may blow;
  And I’m as proud as any prince,
    All honors I disdain: 
  ’She says I am her rain beau since
    I kissed her in the rain.

What He Had Re(a)d

An Irishman, says “The Rochester Times,” recently went before Judge Stephens to be naturalized.

“Have you read the Declaration of Independence?” the Court asked.

“I hov not,” said Pat.

“Have you read the Constitution of the United States?”

“I hov not, yer Honor.”

The Judge looked sternly at the applicant, and asked: 

“Well, what have you read?”

Patrick hesitated but the fraction of a second before replying: 

“I hov red hairs on me neck, yer Honor.”

Apostle and Epistle

A man riding through the mountains of Tennessee stopped one evening to water his horse before a little cabin, outside of which sat an old colored woman watching the antics of a couple of piccaninnies playing near by.

“Good-evening, Aunty,” he called.  “Cute pair of boys you’ve got.  Your children?”

“Laws-a-massy!  Mah chillun!  ’Deed, dem’s mah daughteh’s chilluns.  Come hyah, you boys.”

As the boys obeyed the summons the man inquired their names.

“Clah to goodness, sah, dem chilluns is right smaht named!” said the old woman.  “Ye see, mah daughteh done got ‘ligion long ago, an’ named dese hyah boys right out de Bible, sah.  Dis hyah one’s named Apostle Paul, an’ de uddah’s called Epistle Peter.”