The
country will watch eagerly for the result of this test, which we trust
will be made at the Boston Theatre next week.
EXPEDITION IN SEARCH OF A DOUGHNUT.
"'Twas midnight's holy hour, and silence was brooding like a gentle spirit
o'er the still and pulseless world." Not a sound was heard, except
Robert's dog baying at a sorrel haired young man and a muchmussed girl,
who were returning home from a suburban picnic. As they passed out of
hearing, and the dog was peacefully cannibalizing on a link of sausage
that had been condemned by the board of health, owing to a piece of brass
padlock that showed through the silky nickel plating made of fiddling
string material, a soft cry of a child was heard in an upper room of a
mansion owned by a prosperous business man. The head of the house heard it
and sat up in bed to still the small voice, but couldn't, when the mother
of the child said that she had forgotten to bring up anything for the
child to eat in the night, and she must go down cellar and get a doughnut.
The man said he could never stay there and enjoy himself in bed and think
of his wife, groping around in the dark below stairs after it. After
telling him that he would probably come up with a pickle, ehe let him go.
Carefully he got out of bed, in an angelic frame of mind and a night
shirt, and barefooted he prepared to make the descent.
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