Focus . kyard and shot holes in the tin cans for five minutes. And this was Tims hard luck tale. But she is every inch a lady, said Tim to Billy con-fidentially. R, J. M. THE FOCUS 283 Sij^ Hast Sns? of Summer Tis the last rose of summer!And God meant it so to be, For he saved that little rosebudFor hope and memory. Its colors rich and delicate Are tints of sunset light,The cream, the yellow, the orange Are mingled in beauty quite. Down in the heart of the blossom,Down in the heart of the rose, The last busy bee of the summerGets nectar and off he goes. The last little bird that is with us. Se


Focus . kyard and shot holes in the tin cans for five minutes. And this was Tims hard luck tale. But she is every inch a lady, said Tim to Billy con-fidentially. R, J. M. THE FOCUS 283 Sij^ Hast Sns? of Summer Tis the last rose of summer!And God meant it so to be, For he saved that little rosebudFor hope and memory. Its colors rich and delicate Are tints of sunset light,The cream, the yellow, the orange Are mingled in beauty quite. Down in the heart of the blossom,Down in the heart of the rose, The last busy bee of the summerGets nectar and off he goes. The last little bird that is with us. Seeing one rose is leftFlies over and kisses it softly. Ere he leaves us sad and bereft. Old Brindle walks by the garden And whiffs in the fragrance rare; She strips the stem of its leaflets, But leaves the rose hanging there. It seems that she knew it should stayTill each petal drop to the earth; Then the springtime would create anewIts perfection of soul in rebirth. M. A. B. 284 THE FOCUS Wantfb—A Wife. T WAS just like all other country stores. Theporch covering sagged between the old knottycedar posts that supported it here and usual old hand-made bench was placedin front of the store in order that the loafersmight have a place to slouch on while theywhittled. Now and then an old, grunting,mud-covered hog would maneuver aroundthe door to find some chance garbage. Some-times Conleys skinny-boned hound would slink around;and most of the time Conley was there himself. He wasthere this afternoon, whittling on the old bench. Longey, he drawled out to the store-keeper at theother end of the bench, hev you heard the latest? Well,Fve come to the conclusion that its jes this: I hev themeanest, laziest thing fer a wife that a man ever had tocall his mate. Hows that? quizzically grunted Longey as he sprawledhis clod-hoppers as far apart as his length would , heres how tis. She woke me up this morningfussing as usual, only a little worse. She was worsen amad dog! To


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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1910, booksubjectlongwoo, bookyear1913