EDITOR'S WALLET.

Otago Witness, Issue 2274, 30 September 1897, Page 52

EDITOR'S WALLET.

The Florid One was Sociable. FIEST-RATE PAIRING. The only person who entered the oar ■when it baited afc B was an excessively stoat lady of mature years and florid oruplexion. All the other thin people breathed a sigh of relief when she paused beiida the neat in which sat the very 3lenderest passenger in the car, and said in tones audible the length of the entire train : "Young man, if you'll move that bag o' yours I'll sat beside you. You're kind o'slitn and I'm a bit stout, so I guess we'll pair off first rate." "I am" " Oli, I don't mean that you're any too thin ; you'll till out as you get older," the stout lady mtc-rpoaed, not permitting her seat-mate to complete the sentence. " You're not more'a 20 or 21, are you ? "

"Madam, I 11 Oh, I don'b mean you'll grow to bs too stout. My fiivt husband wa'n'fc. When him and me was married he was ju»t about your size — you do favour him some, that's a fact. Now, my second was thin as a lath, a reg'lar rail — tall, too ; but he grew terrible stout ; had to have an exfcry-size coffiu — at an extry-sized price, too. I ofben tell my girls I'm glad he wa'u'fc father to any of them — he was their stepfather. I can't beau to see a girl too fat, can

you . " But, madam, you are" — — " Sho ! Don't tell me you're engaged to a fat girl ! No wonder you blush. Of course you are nob married ; you are boo young?" There wa« no answer to this interrogative remark, bo the woman put the question more direct : "You are not a married man, are you ? " "No, lam not. I" " You'd ought to see my girls. I've got five of the nicest girls in the county. My Marian is just about your age— but no, you wouldn't suit Marian ; she don't like men without moustaches, though I daresay you could grow a moustache if you wanted to, and " "Madam. I must" " Ye«, I know they're kind o' out of fashion. There's my Emmy — Lucy is too old for you. Are y )U goiu' to stop in Elmira ? " " Ye?, but" "Si be I. That's where I livo. I'm Mrs Hoppiu — Mrs Jared Y. Hoppin. Here's my card. My girls make me carry cards wherever I go. You come up and see me this eveniu', or any time, and we'll make ifc real pleasant for you. Emmy sings real nice, and Marian makes all sorts of nice thiugs in her dialing dish. The way to a man's heart is through his stomach, you know." By this tinae the smiles which she had vaguely noticed on the faces of soma of her fellowtravellers had become broader. At her last remark one man laughed aloud. This caused her to cease her incessant fluw of words aud turn to look at him, which gave her companion time to complete the often-begun sentence : " Madam, I am not a man ; you are mistaken." The stout lady stared at the speaker for a second ; then she exclaimed : "Land be praised! If you ain'b one o' them new women I've heard tell of. Your shirt front and your aoft hat and your coat and your pants — bloomers, I s'pose you call 'cm — are enough to fool anyone " And she. completed her journey in silence. — New York Journal.