the powers of nature as were the plants or the animals. When the sun shone they were open-hearted and merry, at evening they became silent, and the night, which seemed to them so all-powerful, robbed them of their strength. And now the green light that fell through the reeds and drew out from the water strips of gold, brown, and black-green, smoothed them into a sort of magic mood. They were completely shut out from the outer world. The reeds swayed gently in the soft wind, the rushes murmured, and the long, ribbon-like leaves struck them lightly in the face. They sat on the gray stones in their gray leather garments, and the shaded tones of the leather melted into the shades of the stones. Each saw his comrade sitting opposite him as quietly as a stone statue. And among the reeds they saw giant fish swimming, gleaming and glittering in all colors of the rainbow. When the men threw out their lines and watched the rings on the water widen amid the reeds, it seemed to them that the motion grew and grew until t

[Turning apologetically to VERA] I beg your pardon, Miss Andrews, I mean Miss--er----

VERA Revendal.

MENDEL [Slightly more interested] Revendal? Then you must be the Miss Revendal David told me about!

VERA [Blushing] Why, he has only seen me once--the time he played at our Roof-Garden Concert.

MENDEL Yes, but he was so impressed by the way you handled those new immigrants--the Spirit of the Settlement, he called you.

VERA [Modestly] Ah, no--Miss Andrews is that. And you will tell him to answer her letter at once, won't you, because there's only a week now to our Concert. [A gust of wind shakes the windows. She smiles.] Naturally it will not be on the Roof Garden.

MENDEL [Half to himself] Fancy David not saying a word about it to me! Are you sure the letter was mailed?

VERA I mailed it myself--a week ago. And even in New York---- [She smiles. Re-enter KATHLEEN with the recovered candlestick.]

z, as he walked in, throwing his umbrella in Gluck's face.

"Aye! what for, indeed, you little vagabond?" said Hans, administering an educational box on the ear as he followed his brother into the kitchen.

"Bless my soul!" said Schwartz when he opened the door.

"Amen," said the little gentleman, who had taken his cap off and was standing in the middle of the kitchen, bowing with the utmost possible velocity.

"Who's that?" said Schwartz, catching up a rolling-pin and turning to Gluck with a fierce frown.

"I don't know, indeed, brother," said Gluck in great terror.

"How did he get in?" roared Schwartz.

"My dear brother," said Gluck deprecatingly, "he was so VERY wet!"

The rolling-pin was descending on Gluck's head, but, at the instant, the old gentleman interposed his conical cap, on which it crashed with a shock that shook the water out of it all over the room. What was very odd, the rolling-pin no sooner touched the cap than it flew out of Schwartz's hand

close together over ends of wire in order to join neatly and prevent their working loose. Slash buckram inside headsize wire every half inch and turn pieces up. This makes small flaps to which crown may be fastened later. The brim may now be tried on and changes made if necessary.

EDGE WIRE--

This is cut from frame wire and must be long enough to reach around edge of brim and lap one inch. Edge wire is always sewed on same side of brim as the headsize wire, which is usually the smooth side. Shape this wire to conform to shape of brim. Never depend on the hat or the stitches to hold a wire in place. Begin at center-back of hat holding wire toward you, and sewing from right to left. Hold wire as near the edge as possible, without letting it slip over the edge. Sew on with overcasting stitch, taking two stitches in same hole. Take the stitches just the depth of the wire. If too shallow, the wire will slip off over the edge, or, if too deep, the wire will slip back away from the edge leaving it unp

r. It came to me suddenly that I had the kind of feeling one has in the aisle of a large cathedral. There was a sort of echo in the night--an incredibly faint reduplicating of the noise of our oars.

"Hark!" I said, audibly; not realizing at first that I was speaking aloud. "There's an echo--"

"That's it!" the Captain cut in, sharply. "I thought I heard something rummy!"

. . . "I thought I heard something rummy," said a thin ghostly echo, out of the night. . . "thought I heard something rummy" . . . "heard something rummy." The words went muttering and whispering to and fro in the night about us, in a rather a horrible fashion.

"Good Lord!" said the Old Man, in a whisper.

We had all stopped rowing, and were staring about us into the thin mist that filled the night. The Skipper was standing with the bull's-eye lamp held over his head, circling the beam of light round from port to starboard, and back again.

Abruptly, as he did so, it came to me that the mist was thinner.

uestion is put in the forefront. The politicians of Ireland and Wales have realized the importance of language in asserting nationality, but such engineered language-agitation offers but a feeble reflex of the vitality of the question in lands where the native language is as much in use for all purposes as is English in England. These lands will fight harder and harder against the claims to supremacy of a handful of Western intruders. A famous foreign philologist,[1] in a report on the subject presented to the Academy of Vienna, notes the increasing tendency of Russian to take rank among the recognized languages for purposes of polite learning. He is well placed to observe. With Russia knocking at the door and Hungary waiting to storm the breach, what tongue may not our descendants of the next century have to learn, under pain of losing touch with important currents of thought? It is high time something were done to standardize means of transmission. Owing to political conditions, there are linguistically dis

yours:
In the day of Armageddon, at the last great fight of all, That Our House stand together and the pillars do not fall. Draw now the three-fold knot firm on the nine-fold bands, And the Law that ye make shall be law after the rule of your lands. This for the waxen Heath, and that for the Wattle-bloom, This for the Maple-leaf, and that for the southern Broom. The Law that ye make shall be law and I do not press my will, Because ye are Sons of The Blood and call me Mother still. Now must ye speak to your kinsmen and they must speak to you, After the use of the English, in straight-flung words and few. Go to your work and be strong, halting not in your ways, Baulking the end half-won for an instant dole of praise. Stand to your work and be wise--certain of sword and pen, Who are neither children nor Gods, but men in a world of men!

THE FIRST CHANTEY.

Mine was the woman to me, darkling I found her;
Haling her dumb from the camp, held her and bound her.
Hot rose her

l condition of herparents was such that when a child she had to help in caring forthe younger children, carrying them on her back, as girls do inChina, and amusing them with such simple toys as are hawked aboutthe streets or sold in the shops for a cash or two apiece; thatshe and her brothers and little sisters amused themselves withsuch games as blind man's buff, prisoner's base, kicking marblesand flying kites in company with the other children of theirneighbourhood. During these early years she was as fond of thepuppet plays, trained mice shows, bear shows, and "Punch andJudy" as she was in later years of the theatrical performanceswith which she entertained her visitors at the palace. She wascompelled to run errands for her mother, going to the shops, asoccasion required, for the daily supply of oils, onions, garlic,and other vegetables that constituted the larger portion of theirfood. I found out also that there is not the slightest foundationfor the story that in her childhood she was so