“Here, please,” I report with quaker knees, poking forth them 13 samditches on plate. Shrieks by her. Deep breathing and 4 sobs. I withdraw myself away from there before she should make a scenery. I slid myself from back door softly like cats walking over ice-cycles. I felt very sorry for Mrs. Calicutt losing me like that, but when I reached trolley-road where I got on, I felt less pity. After all, there was ½ fraction of corned beef and 1 qrt. milk in ice-box, so them 120 At Homers needs not go entirely destitute from food. Maybe they would enjoy that, if conversation was sifficiently fascinating. For what-say famus Japanese philosopher, Oysta-san? He say, “In good company crusts tastes rich, but in bore company ice-cream seems awful poor.” Hoping you are the same, Yours truly, HASHIMURA TOGO. VIII PETS _To Editor Woman’s Page who do so much to make home-life less homely._ Hon. Dear Sir: Mrs. Benjoman Barnum of Pyramid Park, Penn, is the latest lady to turn me loose. Whether she are a relationship to Hon. P. T. Barnum (deceased) I am not aware enough to say, but she have got a very menagerie mind. Her home is a tame zoo full of animals. I am sure, if she had a bigger parlour, she would keep a elephant. “Togo,” she report to me when she hired me off the Fineheimer Employment Bureau, “nothing make home so lively as several Pets.” “I notice this,” is bright reply for me. “You are the most pettish lady I ever worked for.” She did not seem to assimilate them words I said, yet they was truthful. Her home resembled Mr. Noah’s Houseboat in variety of 4-foot, 2-foot & 1-foot beasts it contained. By actual stastistics Mrs. Barnum possessed the following list of live Pets, which she support from sweethearted reasons of kindness: 1 Dog of waggish ways & barking vocabulary. His name was Julius Siezer, but Neighbours call him “Git Out!” because he dug mines in their flower beds. I forgot his nationality, but his complexion was Irish; 1 Cat entitled Florence who earned her food by purring for it. Her feet was deliciously full of thorns; 1 Parrot called Robt. Burns because his soul was in his talk; 1 cannary-bird name Dick. He didn’t seem to have no resemblance to his name; 2 Goldfish Twins, Harry & Carry who spent their days idly swimming in glass & saying nothing. Mrs. Barnum formerly had one husband who went dead. I congratulate him. When all those Pets is going at once, dog-bark, cat-mew, parrot-shriek and cannary-bird warbul, it sound like a brass band composed of dish-pans & steam whistles. “I love my dum friends,” explan Mrs. Barnum to me with kind-eye expression. “I love them most when they are most dum,” I repartee, suppressing my ears from those scrambled sounds. “If you could teach those goldy-fishes to sing, the harmonium would be complete.” While I said thus that dog Siezer approach up and bit me on leg. “He do this in fun,” say Mrs. Barnum.