A POPULAR FEATURE.
"I just love it here," said Bobbie.
"What do you like best about it?" asked the good farmer's wife.
"You haven't any bath-tub in the house," said Bobbie.
Two brawny sunburnt sons of Ireland met each other on the street shortly before an eclipse of the sun.
"Hallo, Pat! are yez goin' ter see the 'clipse?"
"Faith, Tim, oive no tiliscope."
"Oi wonder at yer ignorance. Go home an' smoke some glass if yez want ter see it. That's as good as all the tiliscopes yez can git."
"Shure if that's all yez have ter do, that's aisy enough."
Some hours later Tim was passing down the street when he espied Pat sitting on his stoop staring at the sky and madly pulling away at a short stump of a pipe from which no smoke issued.
"Did yez see the 'clipse, Pat?" he called out.
"Nary a bit of wan have I seen. Is it over?"
"Over? Sure; an hour ago."
"Well, then" (and here Pat hurled his pipe out into the road), "it's all the fault of that glass. Oi must have smoked the wrong kind."
It is said that the sagacity and memory of the elephant exceed those of any other animal. This is very possible, as in the many cases reported the incidents bearing on these two particulars surpass those of other animals.
One of the recent stories related of an elephant's astuteness contains an element of doubt, but the comic side of it makes up for that delinquency. It seems that this particular native African was an attaché of a travelling circus, and part of his performance consisted in sitting on a stool in front of a piano and producing some hideous discords called music. One day, having hit the instrument heavier than usual, he irreparably smashed it. A new one was purchased, but when the elephant took his place on the stool as usual he absolutely refused to do his act and groaned very miserably. He was led out, and after a short time the manager entered with this excuse:
"Ladies and gentlemen, I regret that the disobedience of Jack has caused you a loss of pleasure; but unfortunately the poor fellow discovered that the ivory in the keys of the piano came from his mother's tusks, and he couldn't play for grief."