"No Old Settlers' Meeting, or Pioneers' Fair, Was complete without grandfather Squeers in the chair, "To lead off the programme by telling folks how 'He used to shoot deer where the Court-House stands now'-- "How 'he felt, of a truth, to live over the past, When the country was wild and unbroken and vast, "'That the little log cabin was just plenty fine For himself, his companion, and fambly of nine!-- "'When they didn't have even a pump, or a tin, But drunk surface-water, year out and year in, "'From the old-fashioned gourd that was sweeter, by odds, Than the goblets of gold at the lips of the gods!'" Then The Raggedy Man paused to plaintively say It was clockin' along to'rds the close of the day-- And he'd _ought_ to get back to his work on the lawn,-- Then dreamily blubbered his pipe and went on: "His teeth were imperfect--my grandfather owned That he couldn't eat oysters unless they were 'boned'; "And his eyes were so weak, and so feeble of sight, He couldn't sleep with them unless, every night, "He put on his spectacles--all he possessed,-- Three pairs--with his goggles on top of the rest. "And my grandfather always, retiring at night, Blew down the lamp-chimney to put out the light; "Then he'd curl up on edge like a shaving, in bed, And puff and smoke pipes in his sleep, it is said: "And would snore oftentimes, as the legends relate, Till his folks were wrought up to a terrible state,-- "Then he'd snort, and rear up, and roll over; and there In the subsequent hush they could hear him chew air. "And so glaringly bald was the top of his head That many's the time he has musingly said, "As his eyes journeyed o'er its reflex in the glass,-- 'I must set out a few signs of _Keep Off the Grass!_' "So remarkably deaf was my grandfather Squeers That he had to wear lightning-rods over his ears "To even hear thunder--and oftentimes then He was forced to request it to thunder again." THE GENTLE ART OF BOOSTING BY JOHN KENDRICK BANGS The Idiot was very late at breakfast, so extremely late in fact that some apprehension was expressed by his fellow boarders as to the state of his health. "I hope he isn't ill," said Mr. Whitechoker. "He is usually so prompt at his meals that I fear something is the matter with him." "He's all right," said the Doctor, whose room adjoins that of the Idiot in Mrs. Smithers-Pedagog's Select Home for Gentlemen. "He'll be down in a minute. He's suffering from an overdose of vacation--rested too hard." Just then the subject of the conversation appeared in the doorway, pale and haggard, but with an eye that boded ill for the larder.