It may interest some of our readers to glance through this short characteristic sketch of James Seymour, born in London in 1702, which is more strongly impressive than many longer memoirs. The fact that he displayed a fondness for drawing and painting in boyhood, and subsequently gained celebrity by his skill in designing horses, is too well known to comment upon. Once the proud Duke of Somerset employed Seymour to paint a room at his seat in Sussex with the portraits of his running-horses. Having admitted the artist to his table, he one day drank to him, saying, "Cousin Seymour, your health." The painter replied, "My lord, I really believe that I have the honor of being of your Grace's family." This hurt the pride of the Duke so much that he rose from the table and ordered his Steward to pay Seymour and dismiss him. Finding, however, that no one in England could complete the pictures begun, he condescended to send for his cousin. The painter responded to the message in these words: "My lord, I will now prove that I am of your Grace's family, for I won't come." * * * * * ENOUGH FOR HIM. The approach of St. Patrick's day reminds one of a little incident, laughable enough, that took place during last year's parade in New York. The gallant sons of Ireland had turned out resplendent in their green regalias, marching with proud step to the music of the band. Those on horses cantered along as best as the legs of their weak-spirited nags would permit. One jovial son had considerable trouble with his horse, which seemed possessed with the insane idea that he was the whole procession, much to the annoyance and at the same time amusement of the other paraders. At last the animal, during one of its erratic movements, caught a hoof in one of the stirrups. That settled it. With a look of infinite disgust the rider exclaimed, "Faith, if yez are going to git up, me boy, thin it's toime for me to git down." And he thereupon dismounted. * * * * * EXPERIENCE. "My daddy's awful good to me," said Jennie, "treats me just like I was his sister." "Pulls your hair, does he?" asked Flossie, who has a brother. * * * * * BOBBIE'S BILL. Bobbie has been learning business methods recently, which may account for a bill which his father found recently upon the breakfast table, reading as follows: NEW YORK, _January_ 15, 1897. MR. PAPA TO BOBBIE, _Dr._ For not paying him his allowance for three weeks, at 25 cents a week .75 Interest at 6% .05 --- .80 Please pay up! * * * * * AN ACCOMPLISHMENT. "I can run faster than you can, Hal," bragged Jimmie.