USK

BY R. K. MUNKITTRICK

The prospect is bare and white,
And the air is crisp and chill;
While the ebon wings of night
Are spread on the distant hill.

The roar of the stormy sea
Seem the dirges shrill and sharp
That winter plays on the tree--
His wild AEolian harp.

In the pool that darkly creeps
In ripples before the gale,
A star like a lily sleeps
And wiggles its silver tail.

A MOTHER OF FOUR

BY JULIET WILBOR TOMPKINS

"You are fortunate to find us alone, Mrs. Merritt. With four girls, it
is simply terrible--callers underfoot wherever you stir. You must know
something about it, with two daughters; so you can fancy it multiplied
by two. Really, sometimes I get out of all patience--I haven't a corner
of my house to myself on Sundays! But I realize it is the penalty for
having four lively daughters, and I have to put up with it."

Mrs. Merritt, the visitor, had a gently worried air as she glanced from
the twins, thin and big-boned, reading by the fire, to pretty, affected
Amelie at the tea-table, and the apathetic Enid furtively watching the
front steps from the bay window. Something in her expression seemed to
imply a humble wonder as to what might constitute the elements of high
popularity, since her two dear girls--

"Of course, mine have their friends," she asserted; it was an admission
that perhaps the door-bell was not overworked. "I enjoy young life," she
added.

"Oh, yes, in moderation!" Mrs. Baldwin laughed from the depths of the
complacent prosperity that irradiated her handsome white hair and active
brown eyes, her pleasant rosiness, and even her compact stoutness,
suggesting strength rather than weight. "But since Enid became engaged,
that means Harry all the time--there's my library gone; and with the
other three filling both drawing-rooms and the reception-room, I have
to take to the dining-room, myself! There they begin," she added, as
Enid left the window and slipped out into the hall, closing the door
after her. "Now we shall have no peace until Monday morning. You know
how it is!"

Mrs. Merritt seemed depressed, and soon took her leave.

The twins, when they were left alone in the drawing-room, lifted their
heads and exchanged long and solemn looks; then returned to their
reading in silence. When it grew too dark by the fire, they carried
their books to the bay window, but drew back as they saw a pale and puny
youth with a retreatin