"A person may take a walk one day," he said, "attired in a light summer suit, and still feel quite warm. Next day he needs an overcoat."
"That's nothing," said the American. "My two friends, Johnston and Jones, were once having an argument. There were eight or nine inches of snow on the ground.
"The argument got heated, and Johnston picked up a snowball and threw it at Jones from a distance of not more than five yards. During the transit of that snowball, believe me or not, as you like, the weather suddenly changed and became hot and summerlike, and Jones, instead of being hit with a snowball, was scalded with hot water!"—Tit-Bits.
PERSUASION BETTER THAN FORCE.
"Talk of opening oysters," said old Hurricane, "why, nothing's easier, if you only know how."
"And how's how?" inquired Starlight.
"Scotch snuff," answered old Hurricane very sententiously. "Scotch snuff. Bring a little of it ever so near their noses and they'll sneeze their lids off."
"I know a genius," observed Meister Karl, "who has a better plan. He spreads the bivalves in a circle, seats himself in the center, and begins spinning a yarn. Sometimes it's an adventure in Mexico—sometimes a legend of his loves—sometimes a marvelous stock operation in Wall Street.
"As he proceeds, the 'natives' get interested—one by one they gape with astonishment at the tremendous and direful whoppers which are poured forth, and as they gape my friend whips them out, peppers 'em, and swallows them."
"That'll do," said Starlight, with a long sigh. "I wish we had a bushel of the bivalves here now, they'd open easy."—Philadelphia Post.