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A PENSIONED GENERAL.
"Wife," cried the General von Werrig, limping around the room, leaning upon his crutch, "here is the answer from our most gracious lord and king.

The courier arrived to-day from the war department, and sent it to me by an express." "What is the king's answer ?" asked the general's wife, a pale, gaunt woman, with a pock-marked face, harsh, severe features, dull gray eyes, which never beamed with emotion, and thin, bloodless lips, upon which a smile never played.

"What is the king's answer ?" she repeated, in a rough voice, as her husband, puffing and blowing from the effort of walking, sank down upon a chair, and dried his fat, ruby face with a red cotton pocket-handkerchief.
"I have not read it," panted the old man.

"I thought I would leave the honor to you, as you, my very learned wife, wrote the letter to his majesty." His wife was not in the least astonished at this thoughtful conduct of her husband.