a pugilist met the moral sentiment of the community, who was carrying a hat-box. “what have you in the hat-box, my friend?” inquired the pugilist.

“a new frown,” was the answer. “i am bringing it from the frownery — the one over there with the gilded steeple.”

“and what are you going to do with the nice new frown?” the pugilist asked.

“put down pugilism — if i have to wear it night and day,” said the moral sentiment of the community, sternly.

“that’s right,” said the pugilist, “that is right, my good friend; if pugilism had been put down yesterday, i wouldn’t have this kind of nose to-day. i had a rattling hot fight last evening with —”

“is that so?” cried the moral sentiment of the community, with sudden animation. “which licked? sit down here on the hat-box and tell me all about it!”