He Read The Papers

An honest farmer trom Frauklin was urning into Race street Tuesday, on liis way to the circus, when a UI), ray hnird man laid hishand upuu hls shoulder. " My.friend," he lnqulred frravely, "can o teil me wliere tlie Rcv. John Wilson ves?" "Go 'way from me. I don't want no ruck with yer ttiimble rig." " But, my dear air. I ani a preach - " "Noyou don't. You can't come ton me, au I want ye to keep off. I don't want togueson your curds." " My dear sir - " " Go 'way, I eay," shouted tlie lionest 'armer, wlio was becoming exeeedinjfly vrotli. "Git, or I'll liave ye 'rested. :tin'i a man come to the show without ïaviu' to run '"s-t ihe card sharks, sweat)oards, thimble rijrs 'u' contidence niscals. 've read all about ye, an' I don't want ye o open yer head to me," and he moved apldly toward the circus, shaking lila iead with an;ry wisdom. The tall man looktd shocked ; and he ndoubtedly was so. For he was actually dominie, who ministers to the spiritual wants of a flock in one of the southeiii owiis of the county. The honest faimt-r lad been deceived by appearances, for the ieacher was dressed alter a preratllng tyle, and his clothes were only wh.it tlie grlculturist knew as "gambler's plaid.'1