seemed to come back to her face. Nay, a greater
beauty than that of girlhood; for, softened by heavenly patience, her
face was sweet as an angel's. From that time forth the duke strove, by
every look and deed, and tender word, to make amends for her hard
trials. And to all ages will her story be known, and in all poetry
will she be enshrined as the sweet image of wifely patience, the
incomparable Griselda.

LET IT ALONE.

BY MARY E. BAMFORD.

"Hold him tight, Sid!"

"I'm a-holding, Dave!"

The two-year colt, Rix, lay on the ground. Sid was holding tightly to
the lasso, while Dave was trying to put the points of a pair of small
nippers into Rix's right eye. Rix had objected very much, but Dave was
determined; he knew something was wrong with that eye.

"There!" said Dave at last, holding up the nippers. "See? Fox-tail,
just's I thought. Got it in his eye."

Dave jumped up, holding the piece of fox-tail grass yet in the nippers.
Sid relaxed the lasso, and Rix rose slowly to his feet. The colt shut
his eyes, and shook his head, as if wondering whether the agonizing
fox-tail was really out at last.

"Poor fellow!" said Sid.

"I knowed that was it," asserted Dave. "I see something was the matter
with his eye when he come in this noon."

Rix, released, trotted away.

"Guess he'll stay out of fox-tail after this," said Sid.

"I dunno," said Dave. "Critters walk right into trouble with their
eyes wide open. I'm going to make bread now."

Sid followed into the shanty, and watched Dave stir together sour milk
and soda for bread. The ranch was away in the hills, much too far from
any town for visits from the baker's wagon. The treeless hills were
the ranging-place of cattle and horses. Far away in the valley Sid
could see the river-bed. It was dry now, but Dave said that if one dug
down anywhere in the sand, one could find a current of water a few feet
below the surface. Dave always knew things. Sid liked to hear him
talk. All this country was new to Sid.

"Does your bread always rise?" he asked.

"If it don't I give it to the chickens," said Dave, putting in some
more soda. "Tried yeast-cakes, but I couldn't make them work."

"Is fox-tail grass much bother to folks?" questioned Sid, seeing Rix
from the door.

"Awful!" said Dave. "Gets in the hogs' eyes, and the sheep's too.
Sheep-men try to burn the fox-tail off the pasture land, and the fire
runs into the farmers' grain, lots of