course you will say I'm stung again, and that some one should
lead me out to the end of the Chicago Crib and push me into the
lake, and all that sort of rot; but hang it all, Jim, if I could
get that girl I would take her if she didn't have a cent. I guess
I'll light my p1pe.

Yours as ever,

Billy.

P. S.--"Good by, Jim; take care of yourself."


More Horse Sense
Have you ever sat on the edge of the bed in the morning with
your elbows on your knees, your head buried in your hands, and
wondered if there was anything you overlooked the night before
that would have made you feel worse? Among the more polite, this
feeling is spoken of as the realization of indiscretion in diet;
but we plain people call it old Colonel R. E. Morse. There are
lots of things that will give you a Colonel, but a R--R--S-- is
the only thing that will make you feel like a person with a future
instead of a person with a past. You must cleanse your liver, and
that's all there is to it. Here's the proposition: Say there were
two glasses of aperient water standing on a table. One was muddy-
looking, bad-tasting, warm, and flat, and wouldn't touch your
liver. The other was clear, pleasant-tasting, cold, and sparkling,
and acted instantly upon your liver. Which would you take? Inasmuch
as our circulation is confined entirely to the most intelligent,
all we ask is, that you give this proposition one moment of your