No Rip Van Winkles Wanted

This story is t-old of Mr. Josepn Jefferson : A number of years ago he played a one-night engagement ifl a Bmall Indiana town, appearing in hls favorito part. The hotel at which he staid -was infested by an Irisïunan "recently landed," who actcú as porter and general assistant. Judged ly the deep and serious interest which he took in the house, he migïit have been clerk, lessee, and proprietor rolled into one. At about six o'clock in the inornlng Mr. Jefferson was startled by a violent tíhumplng Jon bla door. When he struggled into consciousness, and realized tihat he had left no cali at the office, he was naturally inöignant. But bis sleep was epoiled for that morning, bo he aróse, and soon after appeared before tbe clerk. "See here," he demanded of this Individual, "why was I called at thia unearthly hour ?" "I don't know, Bir," answered the clerk. "I'U ask Mike." The Irishman was accordlngly summoned. Saiá the clerk : "Mike, tliere was no cali íor Mr. Jefferson. "Wliy did you disturö him ?" Taking the clerk by the lapel of tflie coat, the Hibernian led him to oih; side. aud said, in a mysterious whisper : "He were shnoring loike a horse, sor ; ind oi'd heerd the b'ys saying eometliLng about how he were aftiher shlapiug for twlnty years, so oi says to mesilf, 'Moike, it's a-cooming noto 'im again, and it's yer juty to get the crayther out o' yer house