of the window
to the roof of the porch and had dropped to the ground and made off.

Mrs. Laughton waited till she thought he must be out of hearing, leaning
out as if she were gazing at the moon. Then she softly shut and fastened
the sash, and crept with shaking limbs to the door and unlocked it, and
fell in a dead faint across the threshold. And there, when he returned
some three-quarters of an hour later, Tom found her.

"Oh, Tom!" she sobbed, when she became conscious that she was lying in
his arms, his heart beating like a trip-hammer, his voice hoarse with
fright as he implored her to open her eyes; "_is_ there an Apache in the
kitchen?"

RUBAIYAT OF MATHIEU LETTELLIER

BY WALLACE BRUCE AMSBARY

Dere's six chil_dren_ in our fam'lee,
Dey's mos'ly girls an' boys;
'Toinette an' me wos t'ankful sure
For all de happy joys;
Dere's Pierre, an' little Rosalie,
Antoine, Marie an' Jeanne,
An' Paul he's com' now soon twelf year,
Mos' close to be a man.

I's lof' all of _la petite femme_,
De garcon mak' me proud,
I haf gr'ad aspiratione
For all dat little crowd;
My Pierre shall be wan doctor mans,
Rosalie will teach school,
Antoine an' Jeanne shall rone de farm,
Marie som' man will rule.

An' Paul shall be a _cure_ sure,
I'll haf heem educate',
I work it all out on my head,
Oh, I am moch elate;
Dis all of course w'en dey grow op;
But I t'ink 'bout it now;
So w'en de tam' was com' for ac',
I'll know de way an' how.

Long tam' ago, w'en Paul firs' com',
He mak' a lot of noise;
He's keep me trot, bot' day an' night,
He was wan naughty boys;
At wan o'clock, at two o'clock,
Annee ol' tam' suit heem,
He's mak' us geeve de gran' parade
Jus' as he tak' de w'im.

Sooding molass' an' peragork,
On heem ve pour it down,
An' soon he let his music op,
An' don' ac' more lak' clown,
An' den _ma femme_ an' me lay down
To get a little doze,
For w'en you are wan fam'lee man
You don' gat moch repose.

But w'at's de use to mak' de kick,
Dees fellows boss de place;
I'd radder hear de healt'y lung
An' see de ruddy face
Dan run a gr'ad big doctor's bill,
An' geeve de ol' sex_tone_
De job, for bury all my kids,
An' leave me all alone.

An' so our hands is quite ver' full,
Will be, for som' tam' long,
But ven old age is dreeft our vay
An' rest is our be