and told Pa he was a disgrace to civilization.  She tried to get Pa to drink some carbolic acid.  Pa finally convinced Ma that it was not him, and then they decided it was the house that smelled so, as well as the church, and all Sunday afternoon they went visiting, and this morning Pa went down to the health office and got the inspector of nuisances to come up to the house, and when he smelled around a spell he said there was dead rats in the main sewer pipe, and they sent for plumbers, and Ma went out to a neighbors to borry some fresh air, and when the plumbers began to dig up the floor in the basement I came over here.  If they find any of that limberger cheese it will go hard with me.  The hired girls have both quit, and Ma says she is going to break up keeping house and board.  That is just into my hand.  I want to board at a hotel, where you can have a bill-of-fare, and tooth picks, and billiards, and everything.  Well I guess I will go over to the house and stand in the back door and listen to the mocking bird.  If you see me come flying out of the alley with my coat tail full of boots you can bet they have discovered the sewer gas.”

MRS. LANGTRY.

America is to be visited by the most beautiful woman in all England, Mrs. Langtry.  It is said that she is so sweet that when you look at her you feel caterpillars crawling up the small of your back, your heart begins to jump like a box car, and a streak of lightning goes down one trousers leg and up the other, and escapes up the back of your neck, causing the hair to raise and be filled with electricity enough to light a circus tent, and that when looking at her your hands clutch nervously as though you wanted to grasp something to hold you up, a sense of faintness comes over you, your eyes roll heavenward, your head falls helpless on your breast, your left side becomes numb, your liver quits working, your breath comes hot and heavy, your lips turn livid and tremble, your teeth chew on imaginary taffy, and you look around imploringly for somebody to take her away.  If all this occurs to a person from looking at her, it would be sudden death or six months illness, to shake hands with her.  If she comes to Milwaukee, there is one bald headed man going to the country where they are not so bad.  You bet!

A PECK AT THE CHEESE.

Geo. W. Peck, of the Sun, recently delivered an address before the Wisconsin State Dairyman’s Association.  The following is an extract from the document: 

Fellow Cremationists: In calling upon me, on this occasion, to enlighten you upon a subject that is dear to the hearts of all Americans, you have got the right man in the right place.  It makes me proud to come to my old home and unfold truths that have been folded since I can remember.  It may be said by scoffers, and it has been said to-day, in my presence, that I didn’t know enough to even milk a cow.  I deny the allegation; show me the allegator.  If any gentleman present has got a cow here with him, and I can borrow a clothes-wringer, I will show you whether I can milk a cow or not.  Or, if there is a cheese mine here handy, I will demonstrate that I can—­runnet.