HIS PA IS “NISHIATED”--ARE YOU A MASON?--NO HARM TO PLAY aT LODGE--WHY GOATS ARE KEPT IN STABLES--THE BAD BOY GETS THE GOAT UP STAIRS--THE GRAND BUMPER DEGREE--KYAN PEPPER ON THE GOAT'S BEARD--“BRING FORTH THE ROYAL BUMPER “--THE GOAT ON THE RAMPAGE. “Say, are you a Mason, or a nodfellow, or anything?” asked the bad boy of the grocery man, as he went to the cinnamon bag on the shelf and took out a long stick of cinnamon bark to chew. “Why, yes, of course I am, but what set you to thinking of that,” asked the grocery man, as he went to the desk and charged the boy's father with a half a pound of cinnamon. “Well, do the goats bunt when you nishiate a fresh candidate?” “No, of course not. The goats are cheap ones, that have no life, and we muzzle them, and put pillows over their heads, so they can't hurt anybody,” says the grocery man, as he winked at a brother Odd Fellow who was seated on a sugar barrel, looking mysterious, “But why do you ask?” “O, nothin, only I wish me and my chum had muzzled our goat with a pillow. Pa would have enjoyed his becoming a member of our lodge better. You see, Pa had been telling us how much good the Masons and Odd Fellers did, and said we ought to try and grow up good so we could jine the lodges when we got big, and I asked Pa if it would do any hurt for us to have a play lodge in my room, and purtend to nishiate, and Pa said it wouldn't do any hurt. He said it would improve our minds and learn us to be men. So my chum and me borried a goat that lives in a livery stable. Say, did you know they keep a goat in a livery stable so the horses won't get sick? They get used to the smell of the goat, and after that nothing can make them sick but a glue factory. I wish my girl boarded in a livery stable, then she would get used to the smell. I went home with her from church Sunday night, and the smell of the goat on my clothes made her sick to her stummick, and she acted just like an excursion on the lake, and said if I didn't go and bury myself and take the smell out of me she wouldn't never go with me again. She was just as pale as a ghost, and the prespiration on her lip was just zif she had been hit by a street sprinkler. You see my chum and me had to carry the goat up to my room when Pa and Ma was out riding, and he blatted so we had to tie a handkerchief around his nose, and his feet made such a noise on the floor that we put some baby's socks on his feet. Gosh, how frowy a goat smells, don't it? I should think you Masons must have strong stummix, Why don't you have a skunk or a mule for a trade mark. Take a mule, and annoint it with limburg cheese and you could initiate and make a candidate smell just as bad as with a gosh darn mildewed goat.