The wife of a successful young literary man had hired a buxom Dutch
girl to do the housework. Several weeks passed and from seeing her
master constantly about the house, the girl received an erroneous
impression.

"Ogscuse me, Mrs. Blank," she said to her mistress one day, "but I
like to say somedings."

"Well, Rena?"

The girl blushed, fumbled with her apron, and then replied, "Veil, you
pay me four tollars a veek--"

"Yes, and I really can't pay you any more."

"It's not dot," responded the girl; "but I be villing to take tree
tollars till--till your husband gets vork."


Kate Douglas Wiggin's choicest possession, she says, is a letter
which she once received from the superintendent of a home for the
feeble-minded. He spoke in glowing terms of the pleasure with which
the "inmates" had read her little book, "Marm Lisa," and ended thus
superbly:

"In fact, madam, I think I may safely say that you are the favorite
author of the feeble-minded!"


Harold Jenks, a syndicate editor of Denver, was talking about the low