nce. There was laughter and chatter within for they were giving
a feast, one to which the poor were not invited. The poet recognized
the house, as that of an old friend of his, a rich and celebrated
artist. He stopped to listen to the conversation before the latticed
gate of the park through which fountains and statues could be seen.
He recognized the voice of a woman. She was beautiful, and once had
broken his boyish heart. She was saying:

"Do you remember the great poet, Laurent Laurini?...They say he has
made a mesalliance, and has married a cowherd...."

* * * * *

Tears rose to his eyes, and he continued his way through the streets
of the town until he came to the house where he was born. The
paving-stones replied softly to the words of his tired steps. He
pushed open his door and entered. And his old dog, faithful and gentle
as ever, ran limpingly to meet him; it barked with joy, and licked his
hand. He saw that since his departure the poor beast had had some sort
of stroke or paralysis, for time and trouble afflict the bodies of
animals as well.

Laurent Laurini mounted the stairs, keeping close to the bannisters,
and he was deeply moved, when he saw the old cat turn around, arch her
back, raise her tail, and rub against the steps. On the landing the
clock struck, as if in gratitude.

He entered her room gently. He saw his mother on her knees praying.
She was saying:

"Dear God, I pray unto Thee, that my son may still be among the
living. Oh my God, he has suffered much...Where is he? Forgive me
for this that I have given him birth. Forgive him for this that he is
causing me to die."

Then he knelt down beside her, laying his young lips on her poor gray
hair, and said:

"Come with me. I am healed. I know a land where there are trees and
corn and waters, where quails sing, where the looms of the weavers
fall, where the telegraph wires hum, where a poor woman dwells who
holds my heart, and where your grandson is playing."

THE TRAMWAY

Once upon a time there was a very industrious workman who had a good
wife and a charming little daughter. They lived in a great city.

It was the father's birthday and to celebrate it they bought beautiful
white salad and a chicken made for roasting. Every one was happy that
Sunday morning, even the little cat that looked slyly at the fowl,
saying to herself: "I shall have good bones to pick."

After they had eaten breakfast, th