* * * * *

[Illustration: THE YOUNG DEMOC TRYING TO PUT THE BIG SACHEM'S PIPE OUT.

_Big Sachem_. "SAY, YOUNG MAN, AIN'T YOU AFRAID YOU'LL BURN YOUR
BREECHES?"]

* * * * *

SARSFIELD YOUNG HAS HIS HEAD EXAMINED.

DEAR PUNCHINELLO:--The last time I visited a barber's shop I wanted my
hair trimmed. Being in somewhat of a hurry for the train, I told the
proprietor to cut it short. As a matter of course, I was left. As for my
hair, there was precious little of that left, though. Science was too
much for it. A hand-glass, brought to bear upon a mirror, opened up a
perspective of pretty much all the back country belonging to my skull,
that is seldom equalled outside the State Prison or the Prize Ring.

I was indignant. I was so mad that my hair stood on end--voluntarily.
The barber talked soothingly of making a discount on the bill; and I,
looking at it in a strictly diplomatic light, gradually permitted myself
to grow calmer. He went further, and did the handsome thing by me--as if
it wasn't enough to cut under his price! A phrenologist by profession,
so he said, he had resorted to barbering simply for amusement, and under
the circumstances he would give me a professional sitting gratuitously.

It has always been a cherished ambition with me to have my head surveyed
and staked out scientifically; SO I told him at once he might take it