After dinner stories by famous men : . m, said the inilk-manufacturcr, with re-proachful dignity, to the pure all things are pure. 118 After Dinner Stories DAVID I. WALSH, the new DemocraticGovernor of JNIassa-cluisetts, was recentlyescorting an Englishgentleman around Bos-ton. They came final-ly to Bunker Hill, andstood gazing at thesplendid monument. This is the place,sir, where Warrenfell, remarked Gov-ernor Walsh. Ah ! replied theEnglishman, with ap-parent interest, which^ Copvn«ht. lnUr.,ali„.,al » bervca howeVCr, discloScd thc fact that he was not very familiar with AmericanHistory. W
After dinner stories by famous men : . m, said the inilk-manufacturcr, with re-proachful dignity, to the pure all things are pure. 118 After Dinner Stories DAVID I. WALSH, the new DemocraticGovernor of JNIassa-cluisetts, was recentlyescorting an Englishgentleman around Bos-ton. They came final-ly to Bunker Hill, andstood gazing at thesplendid monument. This is the place,sir, where Warrenfell, remarked Gov-ernor Walsh. Ah ! replied theEnglishman, with ap-parent interest, which^ Copvn«ht. lnUr.,ali„.,al » bervca howeVCr, discloScd thc fact that he was not very familiar with AmericanHistory. Was he seriously hurt by the fall?The Governor looked at his friend. Hurt! he exclaimed, he was killed, sir! Indeed! was the Englishmans meditative re-tort, as he continued eyeing the monument and evi-dently computing its height. Well, I should thinkhe might have been — falling so far. JOHN K. TENER, the governor of Pennsylvania,is an inveterate smoker and choice as to his selec-tion of cigars. Lighting a Havana recently, hesaid:. By Famous Men 119 The Londoners are indifferent about tlieir to-bacco — indifferent and blase, like an omnibus con-ductor I saw in Oxford Street. You know the London omnibus ? It is a dou-ble decker. If you sit on toj) you must go up anddown by a very steep stairway. Well, this blase conductor pulled up his busat Regent Circus and the ladies bound for PeterRobinsons eagerly got out. But one fat lady, whohad been sitting on the top, came down the steepand winding stairs very slowly. Her skirt flappedaround her ankles, and at every step she stoppedand tlirust it carefully down. The conductorwaited with bored expression, his hand on the bell-rojie; but he lost patience when the fat ladystopped for the fifth or sixth time to thrust downher billowing skirt, and he burst out angrily: Now, then, lydy, urry up, cant yer. Fig-gers aint no treat to me! OX a recent stage journey in Arizona, OwenWister, the novelist, came across an acquaintanceof his early
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