In A Sad Plight

Cold and ehiUing, the iey blast swept through Chicago's streets. He stood on a down-town corner, ashiverng object of sympathy. He was evidently au actor and of a nature far above such a petty trifle as a snow-storin. But no heavy overcoat enwrapped his manly form, and he made vain efforts to assume an appearance of warmth and comfort The collar of his well-worn coat was turnad up around his slender necU and his hands were thrust deeply into his pockets. When the damp snow aceumulated in the folds of his coat he carefully brushed it off, preserving always thedignity becoming aRoscius. As hegazed in supreme indifference at the flying flakes he was joined by a brother artist. one who was eridently in asnug berth, for his overcoat was adorned with the far cuffs and collar which all well-regulated actors wear. "Aw, I say, old man," said he of the affluent air, "this looksawfully tough, you know. Cawn't you get your coat out?" "WeU, old boy," said the shivering tragedian, "I could, but I met with a little accident" "VVhy, it was only S3," said the other. "I can lend you that, you Itnow, if you're short. " 'Wel!, no, it's not that, ofd chap," replied he of the cold chills; "I have the money, but - " 'But what? Why don't you get your coat out?" "WeU, you remernberdown in Peoría when I sold me best coat and vest last week?" "I do, of course. and you did well, old boy. What's that to do with the overcoat?" "Well. the fact is, you see, that in the pocket of that vest was the ticket for the overcoat." And he resumed his pose on the corner, trying to look as if he did not feel the cold and clinging mantle which slowly formed about him.