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"Come, little boy," his grandma said, "Upon this chair you'll sit, And hold the worsted in your hands, And help your grandma knit." "Oh, yes," the little boy replied, And smiled a little bit; "There's nothing I like more to do Than help my grandma,—nit!"

A CONCLUSION.

"My grandfather is ninety years old, and he hasn't got a gray hair on his head," said Mollie.

"Mercy!" cried Bella. "He must be awful bald!"

A DELICIOUS IDEA.

Mr. Hawkins had just returned from the North, and had described some of the ice-boating he had seen to Frankie.

"It must be fun!" said Frankie, enthusiastically.

"It is great fun," said his father.

"I say, daddy," said Frankie, "it's a pity the ocean never freezes, isn't it? Wouldn't it be fine to put an ocean steamer on skates and see it scoot over?"

NOT ENCOURAGED.

"I suppose you boys at school are playing games about all the time, aren't you?" asked the visitor.

"Pretty nearly," replied Jack. "We know pretty nearly all of 'em."

"I suppose you are a champion?"

"I am at most of 'em. I don't get much chance at hookey, though," said Jack.

A SMALL BOY'S REFLECTION.

"Didn't George Washington ever tell a lie, mamma?"

"They say not, my son."

"Don't they tell awful fibs about public men, mamma?"

THE TEST.

"Do you expect to go to college, Warren?"

"Yes, sir."

"And which one, my lad?"

"Well, I don't know yet. I think Yale; but before I'm ready to go, Harvard may brace up and win something."

A PUZZLING TRANSACTION.

It happened in this wise: The two gentlemen were Irish, and, as every one knows, the sons of that nationality are excitable. Up to a certain time they had lived as peaceful neighbors should, but when Mr. O'Farrel's cow had her career cut short in a summary fashion by being smothered under a load of hay that lost its balance and toppled off from Mr. McSway's wagon, why, it necessarily followed that the Celtic blood warmed with anger in Mr. O'Farrel's veins, and, in no genial mood, he sought his hitherto pleasant neighbor, and demanded compensation for the loss.

"Sure, now, that is a sad misfortune," commented Mr. McSway; "and how much do ye want me to pay for the cow?"

"Oi want tin dollars, and oi want it roight now."

"Faith, you're er bit loively, Mr. O'Farrel. But didn't oi understand that yez sold the cow's hide an' tallow down ter the village? How much did yez get for the baste?"

"Yis, oi did, an' oi got tin dollars an' fifty cints for it, Mr. McSway."

"Well, then, accordin' to that, yez owe me fifty cints; so pay it roight now, if you plaze, Mr. O'Farrel."

Probably it will not astonish the reader to know that before the excited and very much muddled O'Farrel recovered himself he paid the fifty cents; but even to this day he has failed to satisfy himself whether he owed the money to McSway or not.

A LIKELY STATEMENT.

"I guess I know why they never speak of George Washington as Washington the Great," observed Polly. "It's because there wasn't never any other Washington to compare him with."

A RECORD.

"How are you doing in your athletics, Wilbur?"

"Pretty good. Went a hundred yards in seven seconds yesterday."

"What?"

"Truth—honest. On my sled."

A SMALL BOY'S NOTION.

I'm mighty glad I'm not a girl, With all their folderols! Just think—they cannot help 'emselves— They can't help liking dolls!

PHYSIOLOGY AND HYGIENE.

"We've got a new study in our school," said Harry. "It's called fizzleology and—ah—fizzleology and—"

"Hygiene?" said his father, trying to help him along.

"That's it," said Harry. "Fizzleology and high-jinks."

NO DOUBT EARNED.

"I've been promoted," observed Bobbie Hicks, with a sly wink at his chum. "I used to be Captain of our soldier company, but now I'm a General."

"Indeed? And who promoted you?"

"The neighbors. They said I was getting to be a general nuisance."