He was informed by Mr. TUBBS
That he would fall down dead,
Or else get killed by stones or clubs,
With that thing in his head.

But, such is life! Poor WILLIAM went
And sung his Shoo Fly o'er:
Not knowing that he would be sent
Where Shoo Flies are no more,

He was a singing, one wet day,
And likewise dancing too,
When lightning took his sole away--
Let this warn me and you!

* * * * *

HINTS FOR THE CENSUS.

DEAR PUNCHINELLO: I have always been in favor of the Census, the system
is questionable, perhaps, though that depends on how you like it. I have
found that it answers very well where the parties are highly
intelligent-like myself, for example.

I drew up the following proclamation to read to the U.S. official in my
district:

_Q._ What is your name? _A_ SARSFIELD YOUNG. What is yours?

_Q._ What is your age? _A._ A., being asked how old he was, replied: If