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Useless
MRS. CROSSLEY was

enjoying a shopping tour and was critically examining various articles on the counter of the drygoods emporium.

"What is this thing used for?" she finally asked.

"I really don't know,” answered the clerk. “I think it is intended for a Christmas present."

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Another “Safety First" TWO colored gentle

men" were on their way down to the recruiting office and discussing which branch of the service they would join.

RB.FULLER Sam was for the cavalry -so he could ride—but the other said:

Waiter, for once you brought me soup that is nice and hot"Ah reckon ah ain't

Yes, sir; it scalded my thumbs something terrible, sir" gwine join no horse army. When ah's 'treatin' from them Germans ah

Not Needed don' want no horse holdin' me back.” THE welfare worker glanced around ap

prehensively as she entered the humble

dwelling. A Useless Question

“Are you not afraid to live here? I do IMAGINATIVE YOUNG WOMAN: "If you not see any fire-escape." had a million dollars what would you do the “Law, no, miss. I don't need one,” refirst year?"

turned the satisfied slum-dweller. “WhenHONEST YOUNG MAN: “I wouldn't live ever the cops come up after me I make my that long."

getaway over the roof.”

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AFFECTED Lady: “I think I shall rest. I am really dawnced out
OLD Gent (hard of hearing): “Not so darned stout, just nice and plump,

I should say ”

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HARPER'S MAGAZINE

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JANUARY, 1918

No. DCCCXII

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A Writer's Recollections

BY MRS. HUMPHRY WARD

PART

I

0 we all become gar to greet their father expected from the rulous and confidential South, only to hear, as the summer day as we approach the died away, that two hours' sharp illness, gates of old age? Is it that very morning, had taken him from that we instinctively them. Of what preceded my arrival as feel, and cannot help a black-haired, dark-eyed child, with

asserting, our one ad my father, mother, and two brothers, at vantage over the younger generation, Fox How, the holiday house among the which has so many over us?—the one mountains which the famous headadvantage of time!

master had built for himself in 1833, I After all, it is not disputable that we have but little recollection. I see dimly have lived longer than they. When another house in wide fields, where they talk of past poets, or politicians, or dwarf lilies grew, and I know that it was novelists, whom the young still deign to a house in Tasmania, where at the time remember, of whom for once their esti- of my birth my father, Thomas Arnold, mate agrees with ours, we can sometimes the Doctor's second son, was organizing put in a quiet—“I saw him”—or “I education in the young colony. I can talked with him”—which for the mo just recall too, the deck of a ship which ment wins the conversational race. And to my childish feet seemed vast—but the as we elders fall back before the brill William Brown was a sailing ship of iance and glitter of the New Age, ad- only 400 tons!-in which we made the vancing “like an army with banners,”

voyage home in 1856. Three months this mere prerogative of years becomes and a half we took about it, going round in itself a precious possession. After all, the Horn in bitter weather, much run we cannot divest ourselves of it, if we over by rats at night, and expected to would. It is better to make friends with take our baths by day in two huge it-to turn it into a kind of panache barrels full of sea water on the deck, -to wear it with an air, since wear it we into which we children were plunged must.

shivering by our nurse, two or three For me, the first point that stands out times a week. My father and mother, in the landscape of the past is the ar their three children, and some small rival of a little girl of five, in the year cousins, who were going to England 1856, at a gray stone house in a West- under my mother's care, were the only morland valley, where fourteen years passengers. earlier, the children of Arnold of Rugby, I can remember too being liftedthe “Doctor” of Tom Brown's School weak and miserable with toothache-in days, had waited on an afternoon in June my father's arms to catch the first sight

Copyright, 1917, by Harper & Brothers. All Rights Reserved.

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