A Hospitable Heathen

It was high noon and Monday. Worse yet, it was the thirteenth day of the month. A knock was heard at the kitchen door of the Burns mansion. The Chinese servant opened the door. A tramp of long and varied experience accosted him:

"I've been traveling and have played in mighty hard luck," observed the tramp. "I lost all of my money, and now I'm hungry -- very, very hungry. Can't you please give me a little bite of something to eat?"

The Chinaman comprehended the situation at once. A benevolent, placid smile spread itself over his entire countenance.

"You likee flish?" he asked of the tramp.

"Yes, I like fish first rate. That will do as well as anything."

"Come Fliday," said the hospitable heathen. -- New York Times.