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FIVE LONG YEARS OF RHEUMATISM.

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DREAD OF THE NIGHT.Ii —————

I WHO'S THE PRIN-BESS ? !.

INHABITANT OF MARS!I

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Crushing. I The tale is told of one of our leading actor-managers. He had snatched an "hour from the cares of management to enjoy a little of the welcome sunshine one morning last week. His peaceful stroll was inter- rnpted. A wild-eyed acquaintance—a hope- ful playwright—rnshed up to him in a state of intense excitement. "HaYo you heard of my misfortune?" he wailed. "No," said the great man sympathisingly, "not a loss in the family, I trust?" "Worse," sobbed the playwright, "my four-year-old son got hold of my new play and tore it to pieces." "Didn't know the child could read," said the actor-manager—and continued his stroU. .—("Daily Alirror."I

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