Lincoln centennial number . white ruff, and as sheproudly watched their gambols, anotherform approached, for a moment mere mo-tion in the leaves, and then her mate. Hedropped his latest kill and stood erect, amagnificent silver fox. The young man stared intently. Hesqueezed the hand in his, gave the girl aquick, significant glance, and whispered:That s he! He won, he won, but Inever knew it till now. Then the onlyshadow between them faded away. A last, an unexpected beam of lightshone from the water-gap. It blazed andwent, a triumph, then a calm. The hid-den light glowed so that the dale seeme
Lincoln centennial number . white ruff, and as sheproudly watched their gambols, anotherform approached, for a moment mere mo-tion in the leaves, and then her mate. Hedropped his latest kill and stood erect, amagnificent silver fox. The young man stared intently. Hesqueezed the hand in his, gave the girl aquick, significant glance, and whispered:That s he! He won, he won, but Inever knew it till now. Then the onlyshadow between them faded away. A last, an unexpected beam of lightshone from the water-gap. It blazed andwent, a triumph, then a calm. The hid-den light glowed so that the dale seemedglad and the Shawban sang, with the as-pen tree, the dear old song of the Dominos life were in Red Fox, published in 1905,and that on the other hand certain incidents which appearin my story of Springfield Fox (1898) were used inMr. Robertss tale. This means simply that we haveindependently learned of traits and adventures that werecommon to the foxes of New Brunswick, New England,and farther west. — END. ABRAHAM LINCOLN READING LAW IN THE GROCERY STORE AT NEWSALEM, ILLINOIS, OF WHICH HE WAS PART OWNER COLOR DRAWING BY BLENDON CAMPBELL THE EVER-CONSTANT TIDE BY EDITH BARNARD DELANO IN the late afternoon Mrs. Penrosecame in from the garden with herarms full of brilliant peonies, and stoodin the doorway of her cottage, momen-tarily held on that neutral ground by theconflicting appeals of the summer after-noon without and her duty in the dining-room within. The little pause was verycharacteristic of her: she had often beenobliged to stand for a while on some neu-tral ground because of an inward conflictbetween duty and the thing she would liketo do; in the end the sense of duty invari-ably conquered. On this particular June afternoon therewas much to draw her back to the easy,pretty luxury of the piazza. On the op-posite side of the road that ran before thecottage was a narrow strip of woodswherein the chestnut-trees, big sisters tothe Indian corn of later summer
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