A STEEPLE-CHASE.
REGGIE'S CONVALESCENCE.
Mamma. "Don't imagine you're sick, Reggie, or you'll never get well."
Reggie. "All right, mamma; then I'll play off well, and go skating just to stop my sickness."
"How is your little sister, Robbie?"
"She's getting well, she's taking celuloid milk." And he marched off proud of having accomplished such a big word, for sterilized or celuloid was all one to this little man of five.