THE JOCUND WIND.

For a practical joker there is nothing like the wind. It blows clothing hung out to dry from one neighbor's yard into another; it will whisk your hat off in a jiffy, and compel you to make yourself a spectacle chasing after it; it is worse than the small boy who removes gates on All-Halloween, for it not only removes gates, but sky-lights and window-shutters. Worst of all, it is no respecter of persons. It will prank with a King as readily as with a beggar, and years ago in France it had its joke with no less a person than the Prince-President himself—the one who subsequently overthrew the republic and proclaimed the empire, with himself as Emperor, Napoleon III. According to the chronicles, the way of it was this:

When the Prince-President, on his journey through France, came to Bordeaux, a triumphal arch had been erected for him by the prefect at the entrance to the town. A wreath suspended by a rope was to be let down on his head as he passed under it, and the arch bore this inscription: "He has well deserved it." But a gust of wind carried off the wreath, so there was nothing left but the rope with this legend—"He has well deserved it."


This is a true story of Peter Apple, of Oakland, Marion County, Indiana. He was a raw recruit when his company took part in an attempt to storm a battery at Vicksburg. The fire of the rebels was so hot, however, that the Union troops were forced to retreat. Private Apple was so excited, however, that he did not hear the command to retreat, and in the disorder of the contest rushed over the breastworks unharmed and grabbed a gunner by the collar. Then he turned about and dragged the man back to the retreating Indianians, and cried out:

"Boys, why did you not come on? Every fellow might have had one!"


Mrs. Hope. "Ethel, Miss Nerfus is coming to-day, and I want you to be mamma's good little girl."

Ethel (aged five). "Oh yes, indeed, mamma! I'm always very particular about what I do when visitors are here."


AUNT SAMANTHA. "Now I see why that youngster gave me these felt slippers for Christmas."