* * * * * He was a Southern local politician running for office, and believed in making a thorough canvass in person. One day he was addressing a crowd of negro voters who had turned out to greet him, when he caught sight of a gray-wooled old man on the outskirts of the crowd. The old uncle had a rusty sword with him, and the orator thought he saw his opportunity to catch the negro vote. "There," he cried, pointing to the apparent veteran, "that gentleman over there illustrates the bravery of your race. Men of his merit I admire. Brave men of your race should be upheld; their dignity should be maintained. And were I in office, I would fight for you the same as that aged hero fought for us. Look at him. There he stands to-day with his trusty sword, the weapon that he drew in defence of his country. What better example could--" Broad smiles that threatened to divide the faces of that colored crowd had been spreading during the latter part of the orator's harangue; but when the old darky broke in with, "'Deed, massa, youse am right 'bout dat sword bein' drawn, but Ise done drawed it in a raffle," it completely broke up the meeting. * * * * * ANOTHER QUESTION. "I hate to bother you, Pop; but, really, I'd like to know--" "Well, what?" "How it happens that baby fish don't get drowned before they've learned to swim?" * * * * * WHAT SHE WANTED. Sallie was helping herself rather copiously to the preserves, when her aunt said, "Oh, Sallie, not too much, dear. You don't want too much, do you?" "Yeth, I does," said Sallie, "and more too. I want three much!" * * * * * PROVED. "Bah!" cried Bobbie. "The idea of saying the world's round! I know better." "Oh, you do, eh?" said his uncle. "And how do you know better?" "It stands to reason," said Bobbie, "if it was round, the ocean wouldn't stay on it, but go sloshing down it into space." * * * * * MERELY AN IDEA. "Pop," said Willie, "I don't see why, if when you've got toothache you go and have your tooth pulled, it wouldn't be a good thing when your head aches to go and get your hair pulled." Up to this hour Pop has not been able to explain. * * * * * ANOTHER QUESTION. "Pop," said Willie, "why is it called a gymnasium?" "Why? Why, because that's its name--ah--" "Yes, I know that," said Willie, "but why didn't they call it a Tomnasium or a Bobnasium, eh?" * * * * * AN OBSERVANT YOUTH. "Now, Bobbie," said the teacher, "spell pipe." "P-I-P-E," said Bobbie. "That's right. And now tell me something about pipes. What do people do with them?" "Well," said Bobbie, thoughtfully, "boys blow bubbles with 'em; plumbers put 'em in; Scotchmen blow music out of 'em; and men like Pa smoke 'em. It all depends on the kind of pipes you want me to tell you about."