"That's all right, then," returned the parson gently; "I merely mentioned it in case you may have thought we wanted it for the font."
On the outskirts of Philadelphia is an admirable stock farm. One day last summer some poor children were permitted to go over this farm, and when their inspection was done, to each of them was given a glass of milk. The milk was excellent.
"Well, boys, how do you like it?" the farmer said, when they had drained their glasses.
"Fine," said one little fellow. Then after a pause, he added, "I wisht our milkman kept a cow."
MILLENNIUM
What Will We Do?
What will we do when the good days come—
When the prima donna's lips are dumb,