"She wants to hear about Jack the Giant Killer," said the sporting editor, "but doesn't seem to greet our poor efforts with much hilarity. Do you speak English, or only railroad?" "It's not likely she would be able to flag down your cockpit dialect," said the railroad editor with fine scorn. "Clear the track and let me show you how to interest the youthful mind." "Will 'ou tell me dat 'tory?" said the little maiden with a hopeful look in her eyes. "I will that," said the railroad editor, seating himself on a pile of exchanges. "You fellows waste too much steam in pulling out of the station. You want to get right into the exciting part from the first. * * * * * "Now, little one," said the railroad editor, "you see Jack woke up one morning and looked out of the window, and the right of way was blockaded by a bean stalk that had run a grand trunk air line that went clear up out of sight. Jack took on coal and water, and, without waiting to see if he had the track, grabbed hold and steamed off up grade without even whistling at way stations. When he got to the end of the run he found a castle as big as a union depot. So he put on brakes and--" "Tan 'ou tell me de 'tory about Dack de Diant Killer?" asked the little girl. Just then the lady came out, and the little girl jumped down and ran to her. They had a little consultation, and as they went out the door the staff heard the lady say: "B'ess um's heart, muzzer will tell ums all about Jack when us gets home." (_Houston Daily Post_, Sunday morning, January 19, 1896.) The Pint Flask A prominent Houston colonel, who is also a leading church member, started for church last Sunday morning with his family, as was his custom. He was serene and solid-looking, and his black frock coat and light gray trousers fitted him snugly and stylishly. They passed along Main Street on the way to church, and the colonel happened to think of a letter on his desk that he wanted, so he told his family to wait at the door a moment while he stopped in his office to get it. He went in and got the letter, and, to his surprise, there was a disreputable-looking pint whisky flask with about an ounce of whisky left in it standing on his desk. The colonel abominates whisky and never touches a drop of anything strong. He supposed that someone, knowing this, had passed his desk, and set the flask there by way of a mild joke. He looked about for a place to throw the bottle, but the back door was locked, and he tried unsuccessfully to raise the window that overlooked the alley. The colonel's wife, wondering why he was so long in coming, opened the door and surprised him, so that scarcely thinking what he was doing he thrust the flask under his coat tail into his hip pocket. "Why don't you come on?" asked his wife. "Didn't you find the letter?"