The lesson was in Roman history, and the prince was unprepared.

"We come now to the Emperor Caligula. What do you know about him, prince?"

The question was followed by a silence that was becoming awkward when it was broken by the diplomatic tutor. "Your highness is right," he said, "perfectly right. The less said about this emperor the better."

The following copies of queer advertis.e.m.e.nts have been collected and printed by club women:

"Bulldog for sale; will eat anything; is very fond of children."

"Lost--Near Highgate Archway, an umbrella belonging to a gentleman with a bent rib and a bone handle."

"Mr. Brown, furrier, begs to announce that he will make up gowns, capes and so forth, for ladies out of their own skin."

"Wanted, a herder for 500 sheep that can speak Spanish fluently."

"For Sale--House in good neighborhood, by an invalid lady three stories high and heated with furnace."

A contemporary contains the startling news that "A carload of brick came in for a walk through the park."

An error for which nervousness may have been responsible was that made by the boy who was told to take the Bishop's shaving water to him one morning and cautioned to answer the Bishop's inquiry "Who's there?" by saying, "The boy, my Lord." Whether from nervousness or not, the boy managed to transpose the words of this sentence with ludicrous effect, and the Bishop was surprised and perhaps alarmed to hear in response to his inquiry the answer, "The Lord, my boy."

Tailor--"Do you want padded shoulders, my little man?"

Willie--"Naw; pad de pants! Dat's where I need it most."

Dr. Tupper does not hesitate to take examples from his own profession, as witness his curious story of the young clergyman who, after preaching a funeral sermon, wished to invite the mourners to view the remains, but became confused and exclaimed:

"We will now pa.s.s around the bier."

"Wossatchoogot?"

"Afnoonnoos. La.s.sdition."

"Enthinkinnut?"

"Naw. Nothninnut 'cept la.s.speechrosefelt's. Lottarot."

"Donsayso? Wosswetherpred.i.c.kshun?"

"Sesrain. Donbleevetho. Funthingthiswethernevkintellwossgunnado."

"Thasright!"

President Eliot of Harvard recently visited a hotel in New York, and when he left the dining-room the colored man in charge of the hats picked up his tile without hesitation and handed it to him.

"How did you know that was my hat when you have a hundred there?"

asked Mr. Eliot.

"I didn't know it, sah," said the negro.

"Didn't know it was mine? Then why did you give it to me?"

"Because you gave it to me, sah."

"How small have you felt?" she asked anxiously.

"Well," he replied, "I have felt as small as a man in the presence of the head plumber."

"That isn't enough."

"I have felt as small as the Prohibition nominee for Vice-President."

She shook her head.

"Or as a man when his wife catches him in a lie."

"That isn't anything."

"I have felt as small as the man who made a righteous complaint to the president of a trolley line."

She shook her head again sadly.

"That isn't anything to the way I feel," she said. "You know I have never been to Europe, and I've been talking with a girl who has just returned."

In one of the Atlanta Sunday-schools recently the lesson for the day had to do with Mammon and the corrupting influences of great riches.

Toward the close of the exercises the superintendent called upon the infant cla.s.s to repeat the Golden Text, which had special reference to man's inability to serve his Creator and the money-G.o.d at one and the same time. The cla.s.s failed to respond as it should, when the superintendent, noticing his own young hopeful in the ranks, who had that very morning been drilled thoroughly on the text, called on him.

The response was immediate, though a slight departure from the original, for in a voice that was distinctly heard in all parts of the room there came the following modification:

"Ye can not serve G.o.d and mama!"