Smoothing His Father's Wrinkles

Children are very observing, and they apply their observations in funny ways sometimes. "A six-year-old genius who lives out West rejoices in the name of Henry. One day his mother was ironing out some recently-washed linen.

"Henry stood by and intently watched the facility with which the wrinkles disappeared upon the advent of the flatiron. From time to time he glanced uneasily at his somewhat elderly papa, who lay recumbent upon a sofa, dreaming the happy hours away.

"The youth gazed with sorrow upon the furrows that remorseless time had ploughed upon the once smooth brow of his father, and then was the future voter seized with a brilliant idea.

"During a temporary absence of his mother, he seized a flatiron, and tiptoeing softly to his father's side, began industriously smoothing and ironing out the wrinkles from that gentleman's forehead. The father dreamed that he was standing on his head in the centre of Vesuvius during an eruption. We hope the boy will smooth his father's care-wrinkles in a less painful and more effectual way when he grows older."


The meanest paymaster in the universe is Satan. He never yet employed a hand that he didn't cheat. Young man, engage your service to a better Master.

"Is THAT the second bell?" inquired a gentleman of a colored porter. "No, sah," answered the porter, "dat am the second ringin' of de fust bell. We hab but one bell in dis establishment."

"SPEAKING of the different kind of taxes," queried the teacher, "what-kind is it where Whiskey is taxed?" "I know," said one boy, holding up his hand. "Well, what is it?" "Sin-tax!" shouted the young grammarian.