A Paragon Of A Husband

" Olí, my huaband is quite a paragon of perfection," aaid Mrs. A. to Mrs. B. "Ah, indeed! Doesn't he drink any more?" asked Mrs. B. "No," said Mrs. A. "About two months ago he carne home intoxicated, and I told him if he ever did so again I'd go home to mu, and he doesn't drink now." " That accounts for it," said Mrs. B. "The other night my husband met him in t)ie street hanging to a lamp-post, and asked him why he didn't go home, and he said he would as soon as he got sober." When Mrs. A. and Mrs. B. pasa each other in the street now, the coolnesa is as thick as a quart of ice cream. - New York Dispatch. The accidental explosión of dynamite a few days ago in the Baltimore waterworka made the number of men killed in that undertaking to date thirty. A tunnel, seven miles in length, is being made for the purposo of conveying water to the city. The work has been two years in progress, and, if the loss of life continúes proportionatqly, 100 men will be killed in the tunnel before its eoropletjo,