A little boy, fond of "playing conductor," arranged the dining room chairs in line and called in his one passenger, a lady of serious mind, to know at what place she wished to stop.
"The station nearest heaven, my dear," she answered.
"Oh, you're on ee yong t'ain, lady—you're on ee yong t'ain!"
—Detroit Tribune.
An Unreliable Symptom.
Chicagoan (decisively)—I feel it in my bones that Chicago is going to have the fair.
New Yorker—I should advise you to see a physician. I know a man who felt something in his bones, and it turned out to be rheumatism.
V. S.