"Yes," replied the wide awake little Eddy, "but the old hens always goes with them, auntie."
MY BRAINLESS ACQUAINTANCE.
By Paranete.
IV.—MY BRAINLESS ACQUAINTANCE SWALLOWED.
"WHEN the box was opened," the pin continued, "all the papers were taken out, and carried to a large dry goods store in what seemed to me a very large city. We were put just behind one of the large glass windows, where everybody could see us, and we felt quite proud, and much enjoyed looking at all the strange things, and at people who passed.
"One by one the papers were sold, until finally ours was the only one left, and we remained so long in the window that we began to think we should never get out. By that time we were tired of staring out at the street all the time, and wanted a change. One day a lady came into the store and asked the clerk for some pins.
"So he came over to the window and took us out. How delighted we were! The lady put us in her little satchel, and soon we felt ourselves rolling along the street in a carriage. Pretty soon we were taken out and laid in the bureau drawer of the lady's room, where we remained a long while. Then she laid us on the little shelf belonging to the bureau, where we could see everything that went on in the room.
