llustration]

An enigmatic picture! Yet, indeed,
In current Gallic light not hard to read.
Woman, with angel-wings, and mournful face,
What are the plans those listless fingers trace?
What are the visions those fixed eyes survey?
The War-dog fierce lies couchant in your way.
The instruments of Art are scattered round.
Mistress of charm in form, in tint, in sound,
Of engineering might, mechanic skill,
That checks your genius, and what thwarts your will?
Winged Wit is at your side, your cherished guest,
Who quits you never on an alien quest.
But what that mystic prism shadows forth
Hath menace which auxiliar from the North
May scarce avert. The scales of Justice tilt
Something askew. The curse of high-placed guilt
Is on you, if the warning tocsin's knell,
Clanging forth fiercely, hath not force to tell
The hearer that Fate's hourglass fast runs out.
That spectral Comet flames, beset about
With miasmatic mist, and lurid fume,
Conquering Corruption threatens hideous doom.
Yet, yet the Bow of Promise gleams above,
Herald of Hope to her whom all men mark and love!

* * * * *

[Illustration: THE SOLE INHABITANT.

_Fishing Club Keeper (to New Member)._ "'XCUSE ME, SIR, BUT, BEIN' A
STRANGER, SO TO SPEAK; MAYHAP YER MAYN'T HA' NOTICED AS HOW THIS HERE
LITTLE BIT BE PRIVATE WATER."

_Mr. O'Bulligan (who has had bad sport)._ "SHURE PRIVATE IS IT YE SAY,
RODGERS? FAITH AN' I'M THINKIN' THE WHOLE STRAME'S PRETTY PRIVATE, FOR
DEVIL A FISH IS THERE IN IT AT ALL AT ALL, 'CEPT WAN, AN' HE'S IN MY
BASKET!"]

* * * * *

CREDIT WITHOUT CASH.

The Hon. CROESUS CASH was greatly annoyed that so many people should
have been admitted to his library. He bitterly reproached his valet
for this dereliction of duty.

"Beg your pardon, Sir," said his servant, "but they _would_ come in.
They said they must see you--that their lives depended on it."

"What have I to do with their lives?" growled the Hon. CROESUS. And
then he added, as he entered his sanctum, "Now, Ladies and Gentlemen,
what do you want? My time's precious, and I can't waste it upon
strangers."

"My dear Sir, my very dear Sir," cried in trembling accents an old
parson in a thread-bare coat, "I have a wife and family, and we are
really starving."

"Ditto, Sir, ditto!" observed an elderly soldier who had evidently
been an officer.

"And I am a widow, and