She seemed so coy; but to my joy,
At last, by chance, I met her.
The fair unknown is now my own,
And soon I'll not forget her.
Last evening she encouraged me—
My triumph is complete, oh;
I own 'twas rash—I made a mash
Of pretty, young Miss Quito.
—Wasp.
A Point Usually Overlooked.
The youthful heir to a Walnut Hills ancestral establishment is of an inquiring turn of mind and directs his attention especially to the elucidation of religious problems. Last week he heard a Sunday school address on "The Prodigal Son." Just what the small boy thought of the address his father was curious to learn, and so he said to him that night at supper: "My son, tell me which of the characters in the parable of the prodigal son you sympathized with?" "Well, papa," replied the cherub with perfect nonchalance, "I think I'd feel disposed to sympathize most with the calf."
—Cincinnati Commercial Gazette.