"SABLES."
Pastor. "How I do regret, my dear Madam, to see you wearing these sad Habiliments of Woe!" Widow. "'M ye-es. Black never did suit me!"
THE PALACE OF (ADVERTISING) ART.
(A Long Way After the Laureate.)
I found myself a huckster's pleasure-place,
Wherein 'twas horrible to dwell.
I said, "O Soul, the object of our race
Is ever one—to sell."