"Where am I?" the invalid exclaimed, waking from the long delirium of fever and feeling the comfort that loving hands had supplied. "Where am I—in heaven?"
"No, dear," cooed his wife; "I am still with you."
Archbishop Ryan was visiting a small parish in a mining district one day for the purpose of administering confirmation, and asked one nervous little girl what matrimony is.
"It is a state of terrible torment which those who enter are compelled to undergo for a time to prepare them for a brighter and better world," she said.
"No, no," remonstrated her rector; "that isn't matrimony: that's the definition of purgatory."
"Leave her alone," said the Archbishop; "maybe she is right. What do you and I know about it?"
"Was Helen's marriage a success?"
"Goodness, yes. Why, she is going to marry a nobleman on the alimony."—Judge.