"Please, sir, Mamma said I was to come here. Baby isn't with us now. Mamma told me to get--ten--cents--worth--of--crape, sir, if you please." Some Day Some day--not now; oh, ask me not again; Impassioned, low, and deep, with wild regret; Thy words but fill my heart with haunting pain-- Some day, but oh, my friend--not yet--not yet. Perchance when time hath wrought some wondrous change, And fate hath swept her barriers away. Then, lifted to some higher, freer range. Thou may'st return and speak again--some day. Oh, leave me now--do not so coldly turn! Thou seest my very soul has suffered sore. Adieu! But, oh, some day thou canst return And bring that drygoods bill to me once more. A Green Hand "I shall never again employ any but experienced salesmen, who thoroughly understand the jewelry business," said a Houston jeweler to a friend yesterday. "You see, at Christmas time we generally need more help, and sometimes employ people who can sell goods, but are not familiar with the fine points of the business. Now, that young man over there is thoroughly good and polite to everyone, but he has just lost me one of my best customers." "How was that?" asked the friend. "A man who always trades with us came in with his wife last week and with her assistance selected a magnificent diamond pin that he had promised her for a Christmas present and told this young man to lay it aside for him till today." "I see," said the friend, "and he sold it to someone else and disappointed him." "It's plain you don't know much about married men," said the jeweler. "That idiot of a clerk actually saved the pin for him and he had to buy it." A Righteous Outburst He smelled of gin and his whiskers resembled the cylinder of a Swiss music box. He walked into a toy shop on Main Street yesterday and leaned sorrowfully against the counter. "Anything today?" asked the proprietor coldly. He wiped an eye with a dingy red handkerchief and said: "Nothing at all, thank you. I just came inside to shed a tear. I do not like to obtrude my grief upon the passersby. I have a little daughter, sir; five years of age, with curly golden hair. Her name is Lilian. She says to me this morning: 'Papa, will Santa Claus bring me a red wagon for Christmas?' It completely unmanned me, sir, as, alas, I am out of work and penniless. Just think, one little red wagon would bring her happiness, and there are children who have hundreds of red wagons." "Before you go out," said the proprietor, "which you are going to do in about fifteen seconds, I am willing to inform you that I have a branch store on Trains Street, and was around there yesterday. You came in and made the same talk about your little girl, whom you called Daisy, and I gave you a wagon. It seems you don't remember your little girl's name very well." The man drew himself up with dignity, and started for the door. When nearly there, he turned and said: