hin the town of Kokomo.

And then I learned, confound the luck,
I should have gone to _Keokuk_!

THE DEACON'S TROUT

BY HENRY WARD BEECHER

He was a curious trout. I believe he knew Sunday just as well as Deacon
Marble did. At any rate, the deacon thought the trout meant to aggravate
him. The deacon, you know, is a little waggish. He often tells about
that trout. Sez he, "One Sunday morning, just as I got along by the
willows, I heard an awful splash, and not ten feet from shore I saw the
trout, as long as my arm, just curving over like a bow, and going down
with something for breakfast. Gracious! says I, and I almost jumped out
of the wagon. But my wife Polly, says she, 'What on airth are you
thinkin' of, Deacon? It's Sabbath day, and you're goin' to meetin'! It's
a pretty business for a deacon!' That sort o' cooled me off. But I do
say that, for about a minute, I wished I wasn't a deacon. But 't
wouldn't made any difference, for I came down next day to mill on
purpose, and I came down once or twice more, and nothin' was to be seen,
tho' I tried him with the most temptin' things. Wal, next Sunday I came
along ag'in, and, to save my life I couldn't keep off worldly and
wanderin' thoughts. I tried to be sayin' my catechism, but I couldn't
keep my eyes off the pond as we came up to the willows. I'd got along in
the catechism, as smooth as the road, to the Fourth Commandment, and was
sayin' it out loud for Polly, and jist as I was sayin: '_What is
required in the Fourth Commandment?_' I heard a splash, and there was
the trout, and, afore I could think, I said: 'Gracious, Polly, I must
have that trout.' She almost riz right up, 'I knew you wa'n't sayin'
your catechism hearty. Is this the way you answer the question about
keepin' the Lord's day? I'm ashamed, Deacon Marble,' says she. 'You'd
better change your road, and go to meetin' on the road over the hill. If
I was a deacon, I wouldn't let a fish's tail whisk the whole catechism
out of my head'; and I had to go to meetin' on the hill road all the
rest of the summer."

ENOUGH[2]

BY TOM MASSON

I shot a rocket in the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where
Until next day, with rage profound,
The man it fell on came around.
In less time than it takes to tell,
He showed me where that rocket fell;
And now I do not greatly care
To shoot more rockets in the air.

[Footnote 2: By permission of Life Publishing