Every where ...

Washington was the soul of punctuality. One morning his secretary was
five minutes late and blamed it on his watch. "Then," said Washington,
"you must get a new watch or I must get a new secretary."

THE

HE world demands of you what Washington demanded of his secretary-punctuality. You must be punctual. If you have no watch, you must get one. If you have a bad watch, you must get a new watch. Duty to one's self demands the possession of a dependable watch. This is no hardship when for one dollar you can buy

The

Ingersoll

Dollar Watch

a capable measure of time. In Washington's time his secretary could not get a good watch for a dollar. He could not get at any price as good a watch as the Ingersoll. That's what it means to live in this day when a plain, sturdy, honest, serviceable watch can be bought for one dollar. Sold by sixty thousand dealers everywhere.

ROBT. H. INGERSOLL & BRO, 65 Ashland Building, New York

Readers will oblige both the advertiser and us by referring to EVERY WHERE.

Poems by Will Carleton.

The Babes and the Bull.

WHY grumble or sneer because those

who aspire

To Fashion's gay vapors, wear garments of fire?

Hasn't Nature her colors?-There's many a flower

That flaunts out with red, both in sunshine and shower.

The poppies, the roses, the hollyhocks, dress

In goods that a love for the startling express;

The lightning's oft crimson that pierces and bruises;

The sun paints the firmament red, when he chooses;

So when by style, fancy, or phantasy led.

Why should not Humanity bloom out in red?

These thoughts hovered 'round a young lady, one day,

As she walked through the fields in apparel so gay

That Solomon's milliners glum would have sat,

And murmured, "We never can come up to that."

It was a young maiden whose father had struck

Some trustworthy kind of commercial good luck,

Some poison, or trap, or explosive, that rats kills;

And so they were posing a month in the Catskills,

And living in Wealth's costly glamor and clamor,

With fifty-odd times as much glitter as

grammar.

And yielding to customs quite prevalent there,

This maid had a costume as red as her hair.

And with her an Englishman wandered; and he

Was searching a fortune this side of the sea;

(Thus making of him a financial young "jingo");

And he had a coat that would scare a flamingo.

Together this pair through the bypaths were wandering,

Two red human flames: and were vocally pondering

(Her name was Dolphina, and his was Adolph)

Of themes of importance connected with Golf,

And what profane search for the ball had her daddy,

One day when attempting to be his own. caddy;

And how her poor mamma, with force to appal,

Hit the corn that was sorest instead of the ball;

And how a young lover grew softer and softer,

Until he didn't know a sand-box from a lofter;

And how a fat lady struck ghosts in the air,

And went down on a rock, with mo

mentum to spare;

And how a good parson, with fury unstinted,

Drove his ball in the wall, with a word

rarely printed,

And then with a dash-and of other small matters

And his game-how they ran! not the crafty and cunning

Zoological firebrands that Samson set running

Through wheatfields of foes in his anger sublime,

Though more there were of them— could make better time.

The Englishman struggled o'er boulders and ditches,

And grieved at the thorns that were tearing his stitches

That kept on his red coat-still muttering low,

"This is very peculiar, indeed, don't you know!"

And the maid, like Dave Harum, exclaimed, "Scat my cats!

I wish he had some of our 'Beverage for Rats'!"

And then, like a red-squirrel, climbed to a tree;

And "You take that other one yonder!" screamed she.

"Thanks! I will!" said the Englishman: "quite in good time!

It's quite opportune; but a beastly hard climb!

I hope you are comfortable there; and you're

Ah-what do you call it?-stuck up, now, for sure!"

While the bull, with a rage his thick hide could not smother,

Would rush up at one tree, and then at the other,

And make all the grass and the pebbles and sand slide

In terrible ways that predicted a land

slide.

And writhed at the lightnings of anger

that spurred him,

And thundered so half of the town might have heard him.

But none of it did; for a rain-cloud had come:

Not a giant of storms striking other sounds dumb,

But a slow droning drizzle, unaided by breeze,

That came by inquisitive drops through

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Every where ..., Volumes 29-30