Old Lady (to conductor--her first drive on an electric tram).--"Would it be dangerous, conductor, if I was to put my foot on the rail?"

Conductor (an Edison manque).--"No, mum, not unless you was to put the other one on the overhead wire!"

After a few weeks at boarding-school Alice wrote home as follows:

"_Dear Father_--Though I was homesick at first, now that I am getting acquainted, I like the school very much. Last evening Grayce and Kathryn (my roommates) and I had a nice little chafing-dish party, and we invited three other girls, Mayme and Carrye Miller and Edyth Kent. I hope you are all well at home. I can't write any more now for I have a lot of studying to do. With lots of love to all.

"Your affectionate daughter,

"ALYSS."

To this she received the following reply:

"_My dear Daughter Alyss_--I was glad to receive your letter and to know that you are enjoying yourself. Uncle Jaymes came the other day, bringing Charls and Albyrt with him. Your brother Henrie was delighted, for he has been lonely without you. I have bought a new gray horse whose name is Byllye. He matches nicely with old Fredde.

With much love from us all, I am,

"Your affectionate father,

"WYLLYAM JONES."

The next letter from the absent daughter was signed "Alice."

While Chauncey M. Depew was at the Omaha Exposition, he and President Callaway of the New York Central chanced to go into a booth on the Midway Plaisance.

It was a tame entertainment and there was only a meager attendance when Mr. Depew and Mr. Callaway entered. Their stay would have been very brief except for the fact that they had scarcely taken their seats before there began a steady inpouring of people, which continued until the small auditorium was crowded.

Taking this extraordinary increase of spectators as an indication that something of an interesting nature was about to be disclosed, the two New Yorkers concluded to sit it out. Half an hour's waiting failed to reward their patient expectancy, however, and Mr. Callaway suggested that they move on.

Just then ex-Secretary of Agriculture J. Sterling Morton pushed his way through the crowd, and, extending his hand to Mr. Depew, exclaimed:

"Well, Doctor Depew, so you are really here! I thought that 'barker'

was lying."

"What do you mean?" inquired Mr. Depew.

"Why, the 'barker' for this show is standing outside and inviting the crowd to 'step up lively' and pay ten cents for the privilege of seeing the 'great and only Chauncey M. Depew.'"

That the royal road to learning is full of strange pitfalls is shown by some of the definitions and statements given by school-children--some of whom are well along the way. The following are _bona fide_ samples coming under the knowledge of one teacher:

"About this time Columbus was cursing around among the West Indies."

"Jackson's campaign in the Valley was the greatest piece of millinery-work ever known."

"The Valkyrie were the Choosers of the Slain, and the Valhalla the Haulers of the Slain."

"The eldest son of the King of France is called The Dolphin."

"The Duke of Clarence, according to his usual custom, was killed in battle."

"Heathen are paragons (pagans) that wash up idle things."

"The Indians call their women squabs."

A certain curate in the course of conversation at a dinner party some time ago remarked to a friend, "I had a curious dream last night, but as it was about my vicar I hardly like to tell it." On being pressed, however, he began: "I dreamt I was dead and was on my way to Heaven, which was reached by a very long ladder. At the foot I was met by an angel, who pressed a piece of chalk into my hand and said, 'If you climb long enough you will reach Heaven, but for every sin you are conscious of having committed you must mark a rung of the ladder with the chalk as you go up.' I took the chalk and started. I had climbed up very, very far and was feeling very tired when I suddenly met my vicar coming down. 'Hullo!' I said, 'what are you going down for?'

'More chalk.'"

Mrs. McKinley used to tell of a colored widow whose children she had helped educate. The widow, rather late in life, married.

"How are you getting on?" Mrs. McKinley asked her a few months after her marriage.

"Fine, thank yo', ma'am," the bride answered.

"And is your husband a good provider?"

"'Deed he am a good providah, ma'am," was the enthusiastic reply.

"Why, jes' dis las' week he got me five new places to wash at."

A certain curate was of a painfully nervous temperament, and in consequence was constantly making awkward remarks--intended as compliments--to the bishop and others. Having distinguished himself in an unusual degree during a gathering of clergy to an afternoon tea at the bishop's palace, he was taken to task for his failings by a senior curate, who was one of his companions on the way home.

"Look here, Bruce," said the senior decidedly, "you are a donkey! Why can not you keep quiet, instead of making your asinine remarks? I am speaking to you now as a brother----"

Loud laughter interrupted him at this point, and for the moment he wondered why.

An earnest clergyman one Sunday morning was exhorting those who had anxious and troubled consciences to be sure and call on their pastor for guidance and prayer.

"To show you, my brethren, the blessed results of these visits with your pastor," said he, "I will state to you that only yesterday a gentleman of wealth called upon me for counsel and instruction; and now to-day, my friends--to-day he sits among us, not only a Christian, but a happy husband and father."

A young lady in the audience whispered to a matron: "Wasn't that pretty quick work?"

A good story is told of the late George Augustus Sala in his early and impecunious days. At some festive gathering where Mr. Sala was present, Mr. Attemborough, the famous p.a.w.nbroker, was also a guest.