LATE FROM THE NURSERY.
Governess. "NOW, FRANK, YOU MUST PUT YOUR DRUM DOWN, IF YOU ARE GOING TO SAY YOUR PRAYERS."
Frank. "OH, DO LET ME WEAR IT, PLEASE; I'LL PROMISE NOT TO THINK ABOUT IT."
A FINE POLISH.
CONSOLING FOR CONSOLS.
Young Hardman. "GOING TO DINGLEY CROSS ROADS?"