lates his pledge of loyalty is not even respected by those who profit by his disloyalty, because they fully realize that a man who will betray his fellows is not an honest man and will not hesitate to betray and defraud them as soon as the opportunity offers. It is because employers have so often demonstrated this truth that we marvel that even the greed of a wageworker can at this late day drive him to commit such a blunder as to remain in the employ of an unfair firm when his fellowworkers have gone out in the interest of fair dealing. But it does seem the more some people are humbugged the more easily they are taken in by the crafty manipulators, who use their crooked heads for the purpose of acquiring the fool's money. They seem always to anticipate that they

will fare better in the next betrayal and thus become easy prey for all men who are without the elements of honesty, and desire by hook or crook to gain unfair advantage in the struggle for existence.

After all the warning the labor movement has issued, the trade union member who gets caught in the meshes of the alleged benevolently inclined employer is indeed to be ranked among the stupidest of stupid and the easiest of the easy in the ranks of gullible fools. To sympathize with such a man is on a parity with weeping over the fact that a vicious murderer has been apprehended after killing an innocent victim for the few paltry dollars that might be extracted from his pockets. One is as much entitled to pity as the other.San Francisco Labor Clarion.

When You and I Were Young.

We went down to the old town hall,
My aged wife an' I,

With hearts as drear an' wintery

As was the winter sky.

Impatience dwelt where peace had been
An' sympathy was cold,
An' life the dull indifference
O' growin', growin' old.

A singer came upon the stage,
(An old man, in the cast),
An' sang a tender melody

A-touchin' on the past,

That filled the chambers of my heart
Where faded mem'ries hung:
"When you and I were young, Maggie,
When you and I were young."

I glanced at Maggie by my side,
My hand went out that way,
Hers met me an' I saw the tears
Shine like the dews o' May.
Then I applauded, hard and fast,
The best song ever sung,

Till Maggie said "You're actin' like
When you an' I were young."

-HENRY DAVID STRINGHAM.

Our Slang.

Among our high-school graduate,
Likewise our people up to date;
In country and in city walk,
Both the sex adopt this talk:

At home among our very young,
All are using that word "stung."

For everyone upon the street,
Policemen taking no back seat,
Everyone is trying to flirt;
When they see the latest skirt.
Then you hear some idle brat,
Hi: "There is some class to that."

We ought to turn a new leave,
Instead of saying "I gotcher, Steve;"
The English language we seem to smote,
With such as this: "I gotcher goat."
From this slang we can't get rid,
Everyone yelling: "Oh, you kid."

In our court rooms of today
Lawyers, too, indulge that way,
Even those not free from care,
Along our crowded thoroughfare,
Very queer, but it makes a hit,

Now we hear them saying "You're it."

In our cities' swell cafe

You will find it on display,
From it society can't refrain;
Seems that it has come to reign.
To knock it out we've lost all hope.
Now they're shouting "That's the dope."
-CHARLES P. REGAN.

Song of the Swallow.

A circle in the summer wind, A star of song and feather, A little arrow head of blue, The vane of golden weather.

An opal flame, a jet of spray
About a sunny fountain,

I skim the wind wave of the wheat
The mizzen-masted mountain.

A fellow of my wheeling flight, The soul of speed and glitterOh, hear the gush of rising song, The glad, high hearted twitter.

Till, like a bullet from the sun,
I shoot beneath the rafter,
And, in the chorus of a nest,

The twitter turns to laughter.

A slit of silver frost will make
My singing low and sober

And send me southward with the brown
Memory of October.

A little breath of cloudless air,
A whispered hint of summer,
Will bring me back and make of me
Spring's merriest newcomer.

-ALOYSIUS COLL.

Writing from the Seashore.

She's got a letter started;

It's to her fiance.

It seems they sadly parted
The thirtieth of May.

And when there's nothing better
On hand for her to do,

She hustles out the letter
And writes a line or two.

Of course, when yachtsmen whistle,
Or send ashore a hail,
She drops the poor epistle
And goes out for a sail.

Of course, when she's invited,
She has to golf or ride.
The letter isn't slighted;
It's only put aside.

But when the rain clouds hover
And no men are about,
She recollects her lover
And gets her letter out.

With ardor undiminished
She writes a line or two
And hopes to get it finished
Before the summer's through.

It Wasn't.

He: I've been waiting all evening to say something to you.

She (hopefully): It wasn't "good night," was it?-Browning's Magazine.

Very Likely.

Silas: Why does thet there man in ther band run ther trombone down his throat? Hiram: I reckon he has a taste fer music

Literary Flirtation.

"My daughter is wild about Rudyard Kipling now."

"Don't be uneasy. These summer flirtations never amount to much."

It All Depends.

Tourist (exasperated at not being able to get a satisfactory answer): But, hang it all, man! You surely must know how far it is to the station? Is it three miles? Road Mender: N-no, sur, it ain't so far as that-not if you 'urry.

Hostage.

Traveler: "Will there be time to get a drink, guard?"

Guard: "Yes, sir; plenty o' time, sir." Traveler: "What guarantee have I that the train won't go without me?"

Guard (generously): “Well, sir, I'll go an' have one with you."-Sydney Bulletin.

Better Than Alone.

Mr. Beck Hall: "Good afternoon, Miss Radcliffe. Going for a walk? I hope I

may accompany you!"

Miss Radcliffe: "Yes. Dr. Sargeant says we must always walk with some object, and I suppose you will answer the purpose."-Harvard Lampoon.

Struck Ties for Home.

Inquirer: "Can you tell me where the Frolic Fairies went after they left here?" Local Manager: "Yes; to pieces."

Asks a Good Deal.

"How about the rent of this house of yours, Flitter? Doesn't the landlord ask a good deal for it?"

Flitter Yes. He often asks five and six times a month for it.-Ex.

The Same: Only More.

"I would like," said a book agent to a busy editor, "to call your attention to a little work that I have here."

"Yes?" replied the editor. "Well, let me call your attention to a whole lot of work that I have here."-Youth's Companion.

Not Very Attentive.

A prominent man called to condole with a lady on the death of her husband, and concluded by saying, "Did he leave you much?"

"Nearly every night," was the reply.National Monthly.

Why She Was Buried.

A Birmingham man arm in arm with an old friend, revisiting his native place, after an absence of many years, was discussing old times, when the returned one began a series of questions as to the friends of other days.

"Tell me," said he, "about your aunt, old Mrs. Blank. She must be rather feeble now?"

"We buried her last year," said the other. "Buried her? Dear me! Is the old lady dead?"

"Yes; that's why we buried her," was the

response.