When you take from the patriot his

country

And Give Him

No

Land

In its place!

I'm no hog-and perhaps I'd refuse it
If offered the whole of the earth,
For our dollars we cannot take with us,
No matter how much we are worth.

I have been at the bedside of Christians,

And seen the sweet smile on their face As they thought of the home that awaits them

Can You Give

Such

a

Home

In its place!

But, pshaw! You're as good as they

make 'em!

We must all, in this life, play a part;
And, I've only to look in your face, Bob,
To see you've a great, noble heart.
To scoop in the ducats by talking
Is not an eternal disgrace;

But-our mothers are dead-and we'll meet them

There, Bob!-You

Know
The
Place.
-HOWARD SAXBY.

OUR WEDDING ANNIVERSARY.

A DOZEN moons have come and gone,
Since you and I became as one;
With heavenly light they seemed to fly
Across our star-bespangled sky;
And though with waning light they
pass'd,

Each left us happier than the last.
In number twelve, in love but one,
Still shines our constant honey-moon.

The griefs of yesterday when it awaketh. The mystery of death,

The stopping of the palpitating breath, The deep, strange silence that doth more prolong [throng! The slumber! ah! what questions "Where? Where?" we say, "Doth the fled spirit stay?”

Nor understand the living or the dying. And yet, while time endureth 'Tis death alone that cureth, [sighing— And bringeth to its end life's day of The soul a little longer slumbereth And, when its rest is taken, To stronger life immortal shall awaken! -JULIA H. MAY.

Has sixteen babies at one litter;
Wide-mouf, long-nose, squirmin' things,
Wid tails dat twist lak fiddle-strings.
Sixteen lak you to mek er fuss,
Ter tote, an feed, rock, an' nuss-
Keep still! Hit's no 'sprise ter us
Possum's hair's gray!

Honey, when de houn' dawgs ketch 'im
Tell drop dat possum he done dead;
No sign er life from foot ter head;
Wid eyes shut tight, he lay and smile,
An' fool dem houn' dawgs all de while.
Play lak you's er possum, chile--

Yes, dat's de way.

Possum in de oven roastin',
Slice sweet taters roun' 'im toastin',
Taste so good when he git done!
Mammy'll give her baby some.
Eyes-shet-tight-yes dat's de way—
Houn' dawgs goin' er way-
Bless de boy, no possum play
In dat sleep!

RECESSIONAL.

GOD of our Fathers, known of oldLord of our far-flung battle line— Beneath whose awful hand we hold Dominion over palm and pine— Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget-lest we forget.

The tumult and the shouting diesThe Captains and the Kings departStill stands thine ancient sacrifice,

An humble and a contrite heart, Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget-lest we forget. Far-called our navies melt awayOn dune and headland sinks the fire, Lo, all our pomp of yesterday

Is one with Nineveh and Tyre!
Judge of the Nations, spare us yet,
Lest we forget-lest we forget.

If, drunk with power, we loose
Wild tongues that have not Thee in

awe

Such boasting as the Gentiles use,

Or lesser breeds without the LawLord God of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget-lest we forget.

For heathen heart that puts her trust
In reeking tube and iron shard-
All valiant dust that builds on dust,
And guarding calls not thee to
guard,

For frantic boast and foolish word,
Thy mercy on Thy People, Lord!
Amen.

WHEN

-RUDYARD KIPLING.

SOMETIME.

"sometime" comes then we shall taste the joys for which we long;

The shadows will be sunbeams then, and every sigh a song.

The sweet, deep hopes we cherish and within our breasts entomb

Will all come back to life again and fill our hearts with bloom.

The dreary waste of desert sand will blossom as the rose,

And every brook will bubble sweetest music as it flows;

Our hungry souls that now exist on just the meagre crumbs

Will then sit down to princely feasts of love, when sometime" comes. When sometime comes then all the year will be a glad, sweet June, And all the music of our lives will be in perfect tune.

A thing of use to no one, but much prized by two.

The baby's right, the lover's privilege, the parent's benison and the hypocrite's mask.

That which you cannot give without taking and cannot take without giving. The food by which the flame of love is fed.

The flag of truce in the petty wars of courtship and marriage.

The acme of agony to a bashful man. The only known "smack" that will calm a storm.

A telegram to the heart in which the operator uses the “sounding " system. Nothing, divided between two.

Not enough for one, just enough for two, too much for three.

The only really agreeable two-faced action under the sun, or the moon either.

The sweetest labial of the world's language.

A woman's most effective argument, whether to cajole the heart of a father, control the humors of a husband or console the griefs of childhood.

Something rather dangerous,
Something rather nice,
Something rather wicked,

Though it can't be called a vice,
Some think it naughty,

Others think it wrong,

All agree it's jolly,

Though it doesn't last long.

A kiss from a pretty girl is like having hot treacle poured down your back by angels.

The thunder-clap of the lips, which inevitably follows the lightning glance of the eyes.

A report at headquarters.

Everybody's acting edition of" Romeo and Juliet."

What the child receives free, what the young man steals, and what the old man buys.

The drop that runneth over when the cup of love is full.

That in which two heads are better than one.

A kiss is three parts of speech-a