So strongly was he affected and in such fertile ground did the seed sown by the great evangelist fall, that the Houston man, who had been accustomed occasionally to evade the truth, determined one morning he would turn over a new leaf and tell the truth in all things, big and little. So he commenced the day by scorning to speak even a word that did not follow the exact truth for a model. At breakfast, his wife said: "How are the biscuit, Henry?" "Rather heavy," he answered, "and about half done." His wife flounced out of the dining room and he ate breakfast with the children. Ordinarily Henry would have said, "They are very fine, my dear," and all would have been well. As he went out the gate, his rich old aunt, with whom he had always been a favorite, drove up. She was curled, and stayed, and powdered to look as young as possible. "Oh, Henry," she simpered. "How are Ella and the children? I would come in but I'm looking such a fright today I'm not fit to be seen." "Yes," said Henry, "you do. It's a good thing your horse has a blind bridle on, for if he got a sight of you he'd run away and break your neck." His aunt glared furiously at him and drove away without saying a word. Henry figured it up afterward and found that every word he said to her cost him $8,000. Grounds for Uneasiness When Sousa's Band was in Houston a week or so ago, Professor Sousa was invited to dine with a prominent citizen who had met him while on a visit to the North. This gentleman, while a man of high standing and reputation, has made quite a fortune by the closest kind of dealing. His economies in the smallest matters are a fruitful subject of discussion in his neighborhood, and one or two of his acquaintances have gone so far as to call him stingy. After dinner Professor Sousa was asked to play upon the piano, of which instrument he is a master, and he did so, performing some lovely Beethoven sonatas, and compositions by the best masters. While playing a beautiful adagio movement in a minor key, the Professor caught sight of his host casting uneasy glances out of the window and appearing very restless and worried. Presently the Houston gentleman came over to the piano and touched Professor Sousa on the shoulder. "Say," he said, "please play something livelier. Give us a jig or a quickstep--something fast and jolly." "Ah," said the Professor, "this sad music affects your spirits then?" "No," said the host, "I've got a man in the back yard sawing wood by the day, and he's been keeping time to your music for the last half hour." It Covers Errors