BRICKLAYER (to mate, who had just had a hodful of bricks fall on his

feet)--"Dropt 'em on yer toe! That's nothin'. Why, I seen a bloke get

killed stone dead, an' 'e never made such a bloomin' fuss as you're

doin'."

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A preacher had ordered a load of hay from one of his parishioners. About

noon, the parishioner's little son came to the house crying lustily. On

being asked what the matter was, he said that the load of hay had tipped

over in the street. The preacher, a kindly man, assured the little

fellow that it was nothing serious, and asked him in to dinner.

"Pa wouldn't like it," said the boy.

But the preacher assured him that he would fix it all right with his

father, and urged him to take dinner before going for the hay. After

dinner the boy was asked if he were not glad that he had stayed.

"Pa won't like it," he persisted.

The preacher, unable to understand, asked the boy what made him think

his father would object.

"Why, you see, pa's under the hay," explained the boy.

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Hopkinson Smith tells a characteristic story of a southern friend of

his, an actor, who, by the way, was in the dramatization of _Colonel

Carter_. On one occasion the actor was appearing in his native town, and

remembered an old negro and his wife, who had been body servants in his

father's household, with a couple of seats in the theatre. As it

happened, he was playing the part of the villain, and was largely

concerned with treasons, stratagems and spoils. From time to time he

caught a glimpse of the ancient couple in the gallery, and judged from

their fearsome countenance and popping eyes that they were being duly

impressed.

After the play he asked them to come and see him behind the scenes. They

sat together for a while in solemn silence, and then the mammy

resolutely nudged her husband. The old man gathered himself together

with an effort, and said: "Marse Cha'les, mebbe it ain' for us po'

niggers to teach ouh young masser 'portment. But we jes' got to tell yo'

dat, in all de time we b'long to de fambly, none o' ouh folks ain' neveh

befo' mix up in sechlike dealin's, an' we hope, Marse Cha'les, dat yo'

see de erroh of yo' ways befo' yo' done sho' nuff disgrace us."