The Small Boy

Every day we have evidenco that the small boy has no soul. The other day a crowd gatherod around a farmer whose wagon-load of butter and eggs was fust in a mud-hole, aud, while some snggested that he pull his horso gee, and othern that he pull him haw, the everpresent small boy yelled, "It's no use, i mister, tr old hoss ain't stout enough. Take Mm out an' hiteh in a roll of yer butter."- OH City Derricl: A (iel ia St. Joseph, Mo., went to a ! clnig store to buy arsenic with which to kill hurself. The clerk happened to know that she litul quarreled with her lover, und he gues.sed her purpose. lic gavo her corn starch instead of arsenic, and hurried out to teil her lover. The lover repented huving grieved the girl, went to her house, found her lying on a sofa waiting in vain to die of adose of corn starch, and made up with her. An English journalist died recently from the effects of slipping on a bit of ; peel, and falling on the pavement. He i hurt his knee oud erysijjelas set in.