“Do you sing all that?”
“N-o. I’m only in the first scene: ‘Early mornin’ on the farm.’”
“What do you do?”
“I crow.”
THE WRONG PASSENGER.
One may, perhaps, presume so far upon old acquaintanceship as to indulge occasionally in a mild, practical joke, but to attempt familiarity with strangers is “another kind of game.”
A city street arab was wont to play rather roughly with a good-natured bulldog, owned by a shopkeeper of the neighborhood. One day the boy was walking with a friend when he saw the dog approaching.
“Hi! there’s Towse!” he cried. “Now see me scare him!”
He stepped in front of the dog, with arms extended, and partially blocked the passage. The animal looked surprised, stopped, and evidently considered within himself what it would be best to do.
“I never knew him to act like that,” said the joker. “He always lies down on his back and rolls. I’ll stir him up a little.”