And day by day beside the stream, they wandered to

and fro,

And day by day the fishes swam securely down below, Till this little story ended, as such little stories may, Very much-in the usual way.

And now that they are married, do they always bill and coo?

Do they never fret and quarrel, like other couples do? Does he cherish her and love her? does she honor and

obey?

Well, they do in the usual way.

HE UNDERSTOOD

ANNA V. CULBERTSON

Robin rashly kissed my hand.
Thereupon I gave command,
"Leave me, sir, or else refrain
Doing this bold deed again.
Once for all, pray understand,
You do wrong to kiss my hand."
Robin heeded my command-
Stayed, nor kissed again my hand.
Yet he doth not mope or sigh;
What can be the reason why?
This I told him: "Understand,
You do wrong to kiss-my hand."

AN ELECTIVE COURSE

(Lines found among the papers of a Harvard under

graduate)

THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH

The bloom that lies on Hilda's cheek

Is all my Latin, all my Greek;

The only sciences I know

Are frowns that gloom and smiles that glow;
Siberia and Italy

Lie in her sweet geography;

No scholarship have I but such

As teaches me to love her much.

Why should I strive to read the skies,
Who know the midnight of her eyes?
Why should I go so very far

To learn what heavenly bodies are?
Not Berenice's starry hair

With Hilda's tresses can compare;
Not Venus on a cloudless night,
Enslaving Science with her light,
Ever reveals so much as when
She stares and droops her lids again.

If Nature's secrets are forbidden

To mortals, she may keep them hidden.

Eons and æons we progressed

And did not let that break our rest;

Little we cared if Mars o'erhead

Were or were not inhabited;

Without the aid of Saturn's rings,

Fair girls were wived in those far springs;
Warm lips met ours and conquered us
Or ere thou wert, Copernicus!

Greybeards who seek to bridge the chasm
'Twixt man to-day and protoplasm,
Who theorize and probe and gape,
And finally evolve an ape-

Yours is a harmless sort of cult,
If you are pleased with the result.
Some folks admit, with cynic grace,
That you have rather proved your case.
These dogmatists are so severe !
Enough for me that Hilda's here,
Enough that, having long survived
Pre-Eveic forms, she has arrived-
An illustration the completest
Of the survival of the sweetest.

Linnæus, avaunt! I only care

To know what flower she wants to wear.
I leave it to the addle-pated

To guess how pinks originated.
As if it mattered! The chief thing
Is that we have them in the spring,

And Hilda likes them. When they come,
I straightway send and purchase some.
The Origin of Plants-go to!
Their proper end I have in view.

The loveliest book that ever man
Looked into since the world began

Is woman! As I turn those pages,
As fresh as in the primal ages,
As day by day I scan, perplexed,
The ever subtly changing text,
I feel that I am slowly growing

To think no other work worth knowing.
And in my copy-there is none
So perfect as the one I own—
I find no thing set down but such
As teaches me to love it much.

CANDOR

OCTOBER-A WOOD

HENRY C. BUNNER

"I know what you're going to say," she said,
And she stood up looking uncommonly tall;
"You are going to speak of the hectic Fall
And say you're sorry the summer's dead.

And no other summer was like it, you know,
And can I imagine what made it so?

Now aren't you, honestly?" "Yes," I said.

"I know what you're going to say," she said; "You are going to ask if I forget

That day in June when the woods were wet, And you carried me "-here she dropped her head"Over the creek; you are going to say,

Do I remember that horrid day.

Now aren't you, honestly?" "Yes,” I said.

"I know what you're going to say," she said;

"You are going to say that since that time

You have rather tended to run to rhyme, And "-her clear glance fell and her cheek grew red"And have I noticed your tone was queer?Why, everybody has seen it here!—

Now, aren't you, honestly?" "Yes," I said.

"I know what you're going to say," I said;

"You're going to say you've been much annoyed, And I'm short of tact-you will say devoidAnd I'm clumsy and awkward, and call me Ted, And I bear abuse like a dear old lamb, And you'll have me anyway, just as I am, Now aren't you, honestly?" "Ye-es," she said.

A PAIR OF FOOLS

JAMES K. STEPHEN

1. His Account of the Matter.

I met you, dear, I met you: I can't be robbed of that; Despite the crowd, the babble, and the military band;

I met you, yes, I met you: and by your side I sat; I looked at you, I talked to you, and twice I held your hand.

When you are with me, dearest, the crowd is out of

sight;

The men who smoke, the men who pose, the sharp

ers, and the flats;