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had been caught in a steel trap while engaged in the degrading pursuit of trying to steal a restaurant keeper's chickens. In a yard within a block of the department building the pirate, confined in a chicken coop iron grated for the occasion, was shown to an exulting and enthusiastic crowd.

Word went forth at once that the Baron's days of freebooting were over and that while the Federal law said that he neither must be killed nor caught, yet it made an exception in case he was caught red-clawed in the act of murder. Quickly friends went to the scene of the

imprisonment and there they found not the Baron, but an ordinary, rat loving, red shouldered hawk whose caste is ninety-nine degrees lower in the bird family than that of the falcon.

Before the exulting ones knew that their triumph was vain, a shadow passed over the chicken coop prison. Looking up the crowd saw Baron Rob Roy going down wind hot-paced to the river for a game dinner. He is still making the same daily journeys. His enemies still wait their chance. Uncle Sam says it will be a long wait and Uncle Sam is probably right.


The Hunting Season

A hunter popped a partridge on a hill;

It made a great to-do and then was still.
It seems (when later on his bag he spied)
It was the guide.

One shot a squirrel in a nearby-by wood—

A pretty shot, offhand, from where he stood.
It wore, they said, a shooting-hat of brown,
And lived in town.

And one dispatched a rabbit for his haul

That later proved to measure six feet tall;
And, lest you think I'm handing you a myth,
It's name was Smith.

Another Nimrod slew the champion fox.

He glimpsed him lurking in among the rocks.
One rapid shot! It never spoke nor moved,
The inquest proved.

A "cautious" man espied a gleam of brown:

Was it a deer—or Jones, a friend from town?
But while he pondered by the river's rim,
Jones potted him.

—philadelphia Public Ledger.

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"conductor!" exclaimed an irate woman who carried many bundles, as she paused on the platform of the crowded car, "I thought I told you that I wanted to get off at Fiftysecond street."

"But, madam"

"Don't you say a word! I know all about your car being very full, and not being able to remember where everybody gets off. I've heard all that before."

"But, madam, I"

"You may be sure that I shall report you, sir; and for your impudence, too!"

She alighted, the conductor rang his bell and as the car started he said politely, as he touched his cap:

"I'm very sorry, madam, but Fifty-second street is half a mile further on."—Chicago Record-Herald.

Feline Creatures

Slimm—"Our landlady says she likes to see her boarders have good appetites."

Smart—"Well, some women are naturally cruel."—Boston Transcript.


Domestic Bliss

"Do You and your wife agree?" "Oh, yes, always—at least, I do."—Cleveland Plain Dealer.

What the Maid Said

Mrs. Dalton had become very tired from shopping, and, slipping on her kimono, prepared herself for a period of rest. Her colored maid appeared just at this point and announced a caller.

"No, Anne," said Mrs. Dalton; "I cannot see him. Please tell him to excuse me as I am in negligee."

When the message was delivered Mrs. Dalton heard her visitor laugh so heartily that it even penetrated to her bedroom.

Calling Anne she asked the maid the cause of the hilarity.

"I dunno, ma'am, I really dunno," answered Anne.

"What did you tell him?" asked Mrs. Dalton.

"Why I done tole him to please 'seuse you, as you was naked as a jay."


Many Such

"kathkrink Shrewsbury is engaged to be married." "Who is the lucky man?" "Her father!"—Tozi<n Topics.^

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And Will Be Again

Frenchman—Pleasant woman, that! Is she unmarried?

Chicagoan—Yes; twice.—Harper's Weekly. J*

Worst Fears True

"How about this barefoot act you've booked for the op'ry-house? Some of the leading citizens are a little worried about it."

"We have suppressed all the objectionable features."

"That's just it. We was afeered you would."

Louisville Courier-Journal. J*

How About Chain Armor

"Is it to be a street gown, madam?" "Yes; something suitable for rioting in. I've joined the suffragettes."—Kansas City Journal. J*

As Language Is

"well, now that you have brought the subject up. Miss Dobbson," said little Fribley, "how old are you?"


"Oh, I am as old as I look," smiled Miss Dobbson.

"Really?" said Fribley. "I'm astonished. You really don't look it, you know."—Harper's Weekly. J*

Hard to Please

"what is Bliggin's grievance against the railroad company?" "He has two grievances; one is that some of the trains don't stop at his station, and the other that after he gets on board the train loses time by stopping at other stations."—Washington Star.


Justice at Last

Breathless Urchin — "You're — wanted — dahn—our—court—and bring a hamb'lance."

Policeman—"What do you want the ambulance for?"

Urchin—"Muvver's found the lidy wot pinched our doormat!"—Punch.



One Of The Strikers—"I've lost me best hat-pin, Lizzie!"

Another—"Where did vou leave it last?"

The First—"I left it sticking in that scab, Rachel Lispinsky!"—Puck.

The Virtuoso on the Farm

New Boarder—"Haven't you got any fancy dishes here?"

Rural Landlord—"Sure thing! Mame, bring the gentleman that mustache-cup your grandfather used to use!"—Puck.

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A Youngster who was attending a public school in one of the large cities was sent home by the teacher for being untidy. The teacher wrote a note to the boy's mother requesting that Johnnie be given a bath. The boy returned to school the next day as untidy as before with a note from his mother to the teacher. The note read as follows:

"My Johnnie is no rose, don't smell him, learn him."—National Monthly.


We All Know Him

Once there was an old goat that tried to pass himself off for a sheep.

The watchful shepherd at once detected the imposture.

He killed the goat. But he sold the flesh for mutton.—Chicago Tribune.


Usually So

"I Have difficulty in satisfying my wife. She has a thousand wants."

"I have difficulty in satisfying mine, and she has only one want."

"What is it?"

"Money."—Baltimore American.

The Only Joy There Was In It

He—Let us keep our engagement a secret for at least six months.

She—A secret? The only reason I got engaged to you was that I thought it would be nice to have my picture on the society page.— Chicago Record-Herald. M

Erratic Popular Taste

"young man," said the woman at the ticket office, "why don't you answer me when I ask you whether this is a moral and proper show?"

"Because," answered the theater treasurer frankly, "I'm not a good enough judge of human nature to know which way to answer without losing a customer."—Washington Star.

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