despatch at once whatever I have to do, the
most disagreeable always first, and I gulp down the devil without
looking at him. When all has returned to its proper state, then I defy
any one to surpass me in good humour." Her heartiness and tolerance are
the causes, she thinks, why every one likes her. "I am fond of people,
and _that_ every one feels directly--young and old. I pass without
pretension through the world, and that gratifies men. I never
_bemoralise_ any one--_always seek out the good that is in them, and
leave what is bad to Him who made mankind, and knows how to round off
the angles_. In this way I make myself happy and comfortable." Who does
not recognise the son in those accents? The kindliest of men inherited
his loving, happy nature from the heartiest of women.

WHERE--AND OH! WHERE?
[Sidenote: _Henry S. Leigh_]

Where are the times when--miles away
From the din and the dust of cities--
Alexis left his lambs to play,
And wooed some shepherdess half the day
With pretty and plaintive ditties?

Where are the pastures daisy-strewn
And the flocks that lived in clover;
The Zephyrs that caught the pastoral tune
And carried away the notes as soon
As ever the notes were over?

Where are the echoes that bore the strains
Each to his nearest neighbour;
And all the valleys and all the plains
Where all the nymphs and their love-sick swains
Made merry to pipe and tabor?

Where are they gone? They are gone to sleep
Where Fancy alone can find them;
But Arcady's times are like the sheep
That quitted the care of Little Bo-peep,
For they've left their tales behind them!

THE SECRETS OF THE HEART
[Sidenote: _Austin Dobson_]

"Le coeur mene ou il va"

_SCENE--A Chalet covered with honeysuckle_

NINETTE NINON

NINETTE
This way--

NINON
No, this way--

NINETTE
This way, then.

(_They enter the Chalet_)
You are as changing, child,--as men.

NINON
But are they? Is it true, I mean?
Who said it?

NINETTE
Sister Seraphine.
She was so pious and so good,
With such sad eyes beneath her hood,
And such poor little feet,--all bare!
Her name was Eugenie la Fere.
She used to tell us,--moonlight nights,--
When I was at the Carmelites.

NINON
Ah, then it must be right. And yet,
Suppose for once--suppose, Ninette--