His Coffin

-Souie people appe;ir to Bad real eujoyment in keepmg acoflin, looking at it daily. tryipg it on to see how it fits,, etc. The irrepressible Bernhsrdt, wheu she feels üke hiiving a little quiet fun, lays down in a coflin ind bucles herself la n graveyard. Jt must be cxtremely edifying, and as Artemus Ward would say, '-for tbose who like that sort of atliing, this rnust we the sort of thing they would like." Now, a West Virginia nian carried this coiiin business to the extreme limit of felicity. About, thirty-flve years ago he planted two seeds to raise his: ou n coffin. One of these died, whicb was a pity, for he might have raised a coffin for bis wlfe at the sanie time;: luit the other fiourished and grew.. Fumi a Bhoot it baoame a sapling, and. linally, in the course of thiity years, a fine tree. About eighteen months ago a severo wmd-storni prostrated tlie tree. Hg had it eut into lumber and sent to a Pittsburg firm. In a short time it was returned to him in the ahupe of a beautiful coffln. Of course ;here was nothing left for him to do :)ut to die and be buried in the specimen of home production. "Ma, are we Canitals ■" asked a little Woodward avenue girl of her ïuother tlic other mor: in. Why my child what do you metro ? "ííothing, oiily I hoard you say to Bridget, "boy legs i'ov breakfast."