_King_.--"In order to get any good of my outlay for your invention, I must make a war, and do so as soon as I can arm my troops--before your secret is discovered by foreign nations. How much do you want?" _Inventor_.--"One million dollars." _King_.--"And how much will it cost to make the change of arms?" _Inventor_.--"Fifty millions." _King_.--"And the war will Cost--?" _Inventor_.--"But consider the glory and the spoils!" _King_.--"Exactly. But if I am not seeking these advantages? What if I decline to purchase?" _Inventor_.--"There is no economy in that. Though a patriot, I am poor; if my own country will not patronise me, I must seek a market elsewhere." _King_ (to Prime Minister).--"Take this blackmailer and cut off his head." A Talisman Having been summoned to serve as a juror, a Prominent Citizen sent a physician's certificate stating that he was afflicted with softening of the brain. "The gentleman is excused," said the Judge, handing back the certificate to the person who had brought it, "he has a brain." The Ancient Order Hardly had that ancient order, the Sultans of Exceeding Splendour, been completely founded by the Grand Flashing Inaccessible, when a question arose as to what should be the title of address among the members. Some wanted it to be simply "my Lord," others held out for "your Dukeness," and still others preferred "my Sovereign Liege." Finally the gorgeous jewel of the order, gleaming upon the breast of every member, suggested "your Badgesty," which was adopted, and the order became popularly known as the Kings of Catarrh. A Fatal Disorder A Dying Man who had been shot was requested by officers of the law to make a statement, and be quick about it. "You were assaulted without provocation, of course," said the District Attorney, preparing to set down the answer. "No," replied the Dying Man, "I was the aggressor." "Yes, I understand," said the District Attorney; "you committed the aggression--you were compelled to, as it were. You did it in self-defence." "I don't think he would have hurt me if I had let him alone," said the other. "No, I fancy he was a man of peace, and would not have hurt a fly. I brought such a pressure to bear on him that he naturally had to yield--he couldn't hold out. If he had refused to shoot me I don't see how I could decently have continued his acquaintance." "Good Heavens!" exclaimed the District Attorney, throwing down his note- book and pencil; "this is all quite irregular. I can't make use of such an ante-mortem statement as that." "I never before knew a man to tell the truth," said the Chief of Police, "when dying of violence." "Violence nothing!" the Police Surgeon said, pulling out and inspecting the man's tongue--"it is the truth that is killing him." The Massacre