Good Stories Reprinted from the Ladies' Home Journal of Philadelphia

On one of the Southern railroads there is a station-building that is commonly known by travelers as the smallest railroad station in America. It is of this station that the story is told that an old farmer was expecting a chicken-house to arrive there, and he sent one of his hands, a newcomer, to fetch it. Arriving there the man saw the house, loaded it on to his wagon and started for home. On the way he met a man in uniform with the words "Station Agent" on his cap.

"Say, hold on. What have you got on that wagon?" he asked.

"My chicken-house, of course," was the reply.

"Chicken-house be jiggeredl" exploded the official. "That's the station!"

And Tommy Did

"And now," said the teacher, "I want Tommy to tell the school who was most concerned when Absalom got hung by the hair ?"

TOMMY: "Abs'lom."

The Prayer of Cyrus Brown

"The proper way for a man to pray,"
Said Deacon Lemuel Keyes,
"And the only proper attitude,
Is down upon his knees."

"No, I should say the way to pray,"
Said Reverend Doctor Wise,
"Is standing straight, with outstretched arms,
And rapt and upturned eyes."

"Oh, no; no, no," said Elder Slow,
"Such posture is too proud:
A man should pray with eyes fast closed
And head contritely bowed."

"It seems to me his hands should be
Austerely clasped in front,
With both thumbs pointing toward the ground,"
Said Reverend Doctor Blunt.

"Las' year I fell in Hodgkin's well
Head first," said Cyrus Brown,
"With both my heels a-stickin' up,
My head a-p'inting down,

"An' I made a prayer right then an' there—
Best prayer I ever said,
The prayingest prayer I ever prayed,
A-standing on my head."

    —SAM WALTER FOSS.

Couldn't Tell Which

Jones had come home later than usual and had ready a good explanation, but his wife gave him no chance, and immediately began to tell him what she thought of him. He endured it patiently all evening, quietly read his paper and went to bed. His wife was still talking.

When he was almost asleep he could hear her still scolding him unmercifully. He dropped off to sleep and awoke after a couple of hours, only to hear his wife remark:

"I hope all the women don't have to put up with such conduct as this."

"Annie," said Jones, "are you talking again or yet?"

The Greater Calamity

Two or three urchins were running down a long and very steep flight of steps, when the foremost stumbled and fell headlong twenty to thirty feet, and was only stopped near the bottom by doubling backward around the newel-post. It looked as though his back was broken, and that he was a dead small boy, but he gathered himself up, thrust his hands anxiously in his trousers' pockets, and ejaculated;

"B' gosh, I b'l'eve I lost a cent."

Her First Railroad Ride

An old lady in Missouri took her first railroad trip last week, says "The Butter Democrat." She noticed the bell-cord overhead, and, turning to a boy, she said: "Sonny, what's that for?" "That, marm," he said, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, "is to ring the bell when you want something to eat."

Shortly afterward the old lady reached her umbrella up to the cord and gave it a vigorous pull. The train was in the middle of a trestle. The whistle sounded, the brakes were pulled on, the train began to slacken its speed, windows were thrown up, questions asked, and confusion reigned among the passengers. The old lady sat calmly through it all.

Presently the conductor came running through the train and asked: "Who pulled the bell?"

"I did," replied the old lady meekly.

"Well, what do you want?" asked the conductor impatiently.

"Well," said the old lady meditatively, "you may bring me a ham sandwich and a cup of tea, please."

The Parson and the "Light"

A parson had had a call from a little country parish to a large and wealthy one in a big city. He asked time for prayer and consideration. He did not feel sure of his light. A month passed. Some one met hie youngest son. "How is it, Josiah; is your father going to B–?"

"Well," answered the youngster judicially, "paw is still prayin' for light, but most of the things is packed."

Turn About is Fair Play

Last Christmas a middle-aged tinplate-worker married a widow whose acquaintance he had made but a few weeks before while working some little distance away from home.

"Sarrah," he said nervously, after the guests had departed, "I 'ave a weddin' present for ye."

"What is it, John?" said Sarrah with a smirk.

"I 'ope ye won't be 'fended, Sarrah," said John, more agitated than ever, "but it is—er—er—it is five of 'em."

"Five of wat?" asked Sarrah.

"Five children!" blurted out John desperately, anticipating a scene.

"I didn't tell ye I 'ad children—five of 'em."