One of the late Mr. Gladstone's most highly-prized collections was that of his walking-sticks. In a small hallway inside his study some fifty or sixty were clustered together in a rack—among them being an Irish shillelagh and two lovely gold-headed malaccas, presented to him by Lord Rosebery and Lord and Lady Aberdeen. His own favourite stick was a plain English oak, thin and strong, with a straight handle and a plain silver baud.
Dr. Sage: 'You are troubled with headaches, and you do not sleep well. Evidently what you need is exercise. What is your occupation ?' Patient: ' I'm a wood sawyer.' Dr. Sage: ' Well—er,suppose you do not grease your saw for a week or two.'

Mr. Isaacs (enthusiastically): ' I vould go t'rough tire for meiu vife undt family.' Mr. Cohen (dejectedly): 4 Ach ! dot vos nuddings ! 1 haf gone t'rough dree tires for mein vife undt family, undt even den I gan't get enough moneys to satisfy deir egstravagencies.'

Master : ' Mary, how was it I saw you handing your friends in the kitchen my best cigars V Mary : ' 1 can't tell, sir, for the life of me, for I'm sure I covered the key hole.'

Editor's Child : 'What is the matter with papa to-day '■ He is iu an awful bad humour.'

Editor's Wife : 1 Yes, my dear. The regular funny man of the paper is ill, and your father is trying to keep the department going.'

' Well,' said Snaggs, ' 1 think many dogs iiave far more sense than their masters.'

' Yes,'chimed in Craggs. '1 have a dog like that myself.' And yet he couldn't make out why they laughed.
