"But these children, madam—you surely are not a widow?"
"I fear you were mistaken, sir, when you first came up. These are not my children. This is an orphan asylum!"
Exchange.
WORDSWORTH ON WOMAN.
A maid whom there were none to praise
And very few to love;
A violet by a mossy stone
Half hidden from the eye;
Fair as a star when only one
Is shining in the sky.
Poems of the Affections.
DIVIDED.
"Johnny," said his mother severely, "some one has taken a big piece of ginger-cake out of the pantry."
Johnny blushed guiltily.
"Oh, Johnny!" she exclaimed. "I didn't think it was in you."