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She painted her so deep a dye.

Said Mrs. A.

In some dismay,
“I no such thing could ever say:

I said that you

Much stouter grew
On too much sugar—which you do."

THE ARGONAUT.

DOMESTIC ECONOMY.

A

several pieces of tinware which needed mending, conceived the idea of getting the iron and solder and doing the mending himself. His wife, filled with vague forebodings perhaps, said that the expense was such a trifle that it would hardly pay to do it one's self, to which he responded :

“I'll admit that, in this one instance, it would not pay, but there is something in want of repair every little while, and if I have the tools here for fixing it we are saved just so much expense right along. It may not be much in the course of a year,

but
every

little helps, and in time the total amounts to a nice little lump. We don't want the Astors lugging off all the money in the country.”

He got the iron, one dollar and fifty cents' worth of solder and ten cents' worth of rosin. He came home with these things and went into the kitchen, looking so proud and happy that his wife would have been glad of the purchase were it not for an overpowering dread of an impending muss. He called for the articles needing repair. His wife brought out a pan.

“ Where's the rest? Bring 'em all out, an' let me make one job of 'em while I'm about it.”

He got them all and seemed to be disappointed that there were no more of them. He pushed the iron into the fire, got a milk pan inverted on his knees, and with the solder in his hand, waited for the right heat.

“ That iron only cost a dollar, and it'll never wear out, and there's enough solder in this piece to do twentyfive dollars' worth of mending," he exclaimed to his wife.

Pretty soon the iron was at right heat, he judged. He rubbed the rosin about the hole which was to be repaired, and held the stick of solder over it, and carefully applied the iron. It was an intensely interesting moment. His wife watched him with feverish interest. He said, speaking laboriously, as he applied the iron :

“The only-thing-I-regret-about-it-is-that-I-didn't-thinkof-getting-this-before-we"

Then ascended through the ceiling the awfullest yell that woman ever heard, and the same instant the soldering iron flew across the stove, the pan went clattering across the floor, and the bar of solder struck the wall with such force as to smash through both the plaster and the lath. And before her horrified gaze danced her husband in an ecstasy of agony, sobbing, screaming and holding on to his left leg as desperately as if it were made of gold and studded with diamonds.

“Get the camphor, why don't you ?” he yelled. “ Send for the doctor. Oh, oh, I'm a dead man,” he shouted.

Just then his gaze rested on the soldering iron. In an instant he caught it up and hurled it through the window, without the preliminary of raising the sash.

It was some little time before the thoroughly fright

ened and confused woman learned that some of the molten solder had run through the hole in the pan

and on his leg, although she knew from the first that something of an unusual nature had occurred. She didn't send for the doctor. She made and applied the poultices herself to save expense. She said :

“We don't want the Astors lugging off all the money in the country."

DANBURY NEWS.

“NEARER HOME.”

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NE sweetly solemn thought

Comes to me o'er and o'er,
I'm nearer home to-day

Than I ever have been before.
Nearer my Father's house,

Where the many mansions be;
Nearer the great white throne,

Nearer the jasper sea;
Nearer the bound of life,

Were we lay our burdens down ;
Nearer leaving the cross,

Nearer wearing the crown.
But lying darkly between,

Winding down through the night,
Is the dim and unknown stream

That leads at last to the light.
Closer, closer my steps

Come to the dark abysm,
Closer, death to my lips

Presses the awful chrism.

Saviour, perfect my trust,

Strengthen the might of my faith,
Let me feel as I would when I stand

On the rock of the shore of death;

Feel as I would when

my

feet
Are slipping over the brink;
For it may be I'm nearer home,
Nearer now, than I think.

PHEBE CARY.

A SCHOOL-BOY ON CORNS.

CORNS

MORNS are of two kinds-vegetable and animal.

Vegetable corn grows in rows, and animal corn grows on toes. There are several kinds of corn : There is the unicorn, the capricorn, pop corn, corn dodgers, field corn, and the corn, which is the corn your feet feel most. It is said, I believe, that gophers like corn, but persons having corns do not like to“ go fur” if they can help it.

Corns have kernels, and some colonels have corns. Vegetable corn grows on the ears, but animal corn grows on feet at the other end of the body. Another kind of corn is the acorn ; this grows on oaks. The acorn is a corn with an indefinite article added. Try it and see. Many a man when he has a corn wishes it

was an acorn.

Folks that have corns sometimes send for a doctor, and if the doctor himself is corned he probably won't do sọ well as if he isn't. The doctor says corns are produced by tight boots and shoes, which is probably the reason why when a man is tight they say he is corned. If a farmer manages well, he can get a good deal of corn on an acre, but I know of a farmer that has the corn that makes the biggest acher on his farm. The bigger crop of vegetable corn a man raises, the better he likes it ; the bigger crop of animal corn he raises, the better he does not like it. Another kind of corn is the corn dodger. The way it is made is very simple, and it is as follows—that is if you want to know : You go along the street and meet a man you know has a corn, and a rough character; then you step on the toe that has the corn on it, and see if you don't have occasion to dodge. In that way you will find out what a corn dodger is.

CRAZY NELL.

FOUNDED ON FACT.

“COME, Rosy, come !" I heard the voice and looked

Out on the road that passed my window wide, And saw a woman and a fair-haired child

That knelt and picked the daisies at the side. The child ran quickly with its gathered prize,

And, laughing, held it high above its head; A light glowed bright within the woman's eyes,

And in that light a mother's love I read.

She took the little hand, and both passed on:

The prattle of the child I still could hear, Mixed with the woman's fond, caressing to

That came in loving words upon my ear.

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