“Then his hair will grow so long that he will stumble over it,” the thoughtful reader may surmise; but be that as it may, Bryan Wise, son of a Crane, Mo., brakeman, has for nineteen years been a total stranger to the barber’s chair, and, having stood the “gaff” for so long a time, it looks as though he will continue to do so. At present his hair touches his waist when it is “undone,” but he wears it in a tight knot at the back of his head. The father of the long-haired youth was and continues to be a great admirer of the former secretary of state, and he has every faith that in the course of time his son will have the opportunity to have his hair cut off. Ker-choo! Arm Out of Joint. Sometimes a sneeze can do more damage than ordinarily. W. H. Wallingford, an automobile salesman of Portland, Ore., will testify to this. Wallingford was talking to a “prospect” in an auto salesroom. During his argument in favor of the car he was selling, Wallingford raised an arm above his head and leaned it against a door casing. Then the sneeze came--and it came so suddenly Wallingford didn’t have time to “get set” for it. His head and shoulders were jerked forward and downward when the ker-choo sounded, and the arm was dislocated at the shoulder socket. A physician reset it, and Wallingford, after a few days of rest, will be back on the job. Night at Ellis Island with Wrecked Mankind. On wire and canvas cots, on wooden benches, and not infrequently on tiled floors, hundreds of men sleep each night on Ellis Island, in New York City. These men are not immigrants, although many, but by no means most, of them are aliens. They are homeless, hungry men, who have neither work nor the wherewithal to live, a condition that is in dire contrast to the comfortable and happy existence of those who live in the small cities and towns of our land, but one that for months has been experienced by thousands of unfortunates in our metropolitan centers. The island has been thrown open to them ungrudgingly, first because of the sympathetic understanding of Commissioner Frederic C. Howe, and, second, because the sudden fall in immigration has left unoccupied a great many rooms and hundreds of cots previously needed for those who came, as many of these men came, to the Land of Promise. You do not have to look closely at these men to see how poorly dressed they are; but, if you were to spend a night with them, you would find that beneath their soiled and wretched outer covering there is no clothing, and that the flesh, that is weak, in many cases is sore and infected and in need of care. For with them underwear long since has become a bitter memory of better days, and their feet are without socks and their boots without soles.