Serenades

It is moonlight on the hill. From out the trees a gcntle zephyr creeps to rob the hyacinth of its perfumed breath, and adovvn the garden walk the whippoorwill lends his monotone of sadness to the balmy night. Sleep, with brooding wïngs, sits silent o' er the scène. - Hut hark! it is the tinkling guitar, strummed by the lovely Augustus. He comes. Bcneath the vine-cfad window in the ghostly gloaming he pauses, and up the flower-trellised wall he shoots a melancholy tenor fraught with the passionate inqniry, "Must I leave thee here alone?" No answer returns save the haiinting echo and the low clicking of a distant door. The sccne changes. It is the back yard tableau. A white robed old man bends over a chained dog, and soothes his too eager spirit as he loosens the collar. A low voice says "S-cc-ceck him, Buil - take a short cut round the rose-bush." And the old man is alone. The clatter of a fallen guitar comes from the front; a sound like the rush of a steeple-chase ncaring a hedge is borne back, and neck and neck two figures cross the pickct fence to disappear down the dim pérspectïve of the deserted streef. Then the old man meots Buil as hc returns on the outer walk, and removes in a discouraged manner a dark object from his foaming mouth, while the animal retires to his kennel in silence. The door opens and shuts on the white robed form, and all is still again. But as he gets in bed and shoves the old lady's feet out of the warm place, he mutters, "Buil is gettin' old, an' serenades don't pay divydends like they used to, but if the business keeps up, I think you will be justified in startin' anolher patehwork quilt, Maria. The last fellow left real cassumer." "What sorter sample did you gel P" "Tolerable fair. There was a long strip with a pistol-pocket hangin' to it, and one gallus' butt'n." - Macon, [Ga.,] Tdtgraph. On a recent Saturday evening a man stepped hito a grocery store at Northampton, Mass., with a bundie eontaining a pair of boots, which he laid down for a moment. Near by were several lobsters, which had been done tip for a lady from a ncighboring village, making a package similar in size to the other. By some chance the owners exchanged bundies, and the gentleman after having nearly reached home fonnd his "boots ' suspiciously moist and took them back to the store. But the lady went home, placed the supposed lobsters on ice in order to keep them in good condition for dinner, and did not discover the mistake until just before dinner time.