his life or anything like that-I don't see how girls can like such things, though it is exciting! I suppose Charlie will be glad if I'm not with Ned so much. I wonder if Charlie likes me a good deal-he never said so. I never had a proposal before, did you? There's Charlie now, he's come to take me to drive-isn't he a dear! Good-bye." (He.) "Of course she can't, old fool that I am! How could the sky bend down to kiss the earth? How dared I lift my eyes to her great glowing ones, or seek to touch her hand, or breathe the perfume that her lace sent forth! But I dared even to offer my useless, worthless self-to barter indeed my poor brain, my great empty house, those barren acres, for her exquisite self-her living, breathing self-her hands, her hair, her eyes, her lips! Great brute! How could I make those lips tremble with the beautiful pity her pure soul has for all sorrow -how could I cast one shadow on her sunshine by stammering in hideous words my love for her! My love for her! Silence itself is not vast enough to thrill and throb with it! To hear her voice! To read her thoughts, to see her laugh, to feel her passions, to hold her once to my bursting heart and call her mine! Great God, hast thou made love like that! No-not the love of man for woman unrequited-thou a God of mercy!" HANNAH GOULD JOHNSON. I suppose it was not Laura's fault that she was thin and I was fat, but whenever I was provoked with her, the contrast between her slim little brown The Perjured Paper Doll checked apron and my bulging blue one was always an additional cause of irritation. On this particular occasion I was especially indignant at Laura because she had succeeded in walking around the yard three successive times on the picket fence, while I had fallen off ignominiously on the first round. "You just stepped on two caterpillars," I remarked maliciously just as she was starting out on her fourth tour. Laura, who was stepping along carefully, with both arms extended to keep her balance, promptly fell off the fence as I expected. "There, now we have both fallen off," I went on more cheerfully; "and you have torn your apron as bad as mine. Let's go in and play paper dolls." Laura followed meekly; once off the picket fence she was my inferior, and mine was the leading spirit in all the games we played. We went up to the nursery where our doll houses were, and soon our large families of paper dolls were spread out upon the floor-fashion plates, home-made dolls, and beautiful embossed paper dolls with suits and dresses which fitted on with little tags at the shoulder. For a while we managed to play together peaceably, though my mood was whimsical, not to say irritable. Laura acquiesced obediently in all my plans; she let me have all the weddings in my family, lent me her dining room furniture, and even consented to change her family name from Astor to Vanderbilt in accordance with a sudden fancy of mine; as a last concession she allowed many of her family to be taken to the hospital on my recommendation, when I insisted that they had a certain mysterious paper doll disease known as the "cuttings", the only cure for which was to cut the poor dolls smaller and smaller with the dressmaker's shears. When all but five of the Vanderbilt family had undergone this heroic treatment, Laura protested. "You haven't done any of the Astors," she observed reproachfully; "and I won't have Ralph Vanderbilt cut up-he is the only man I have!" "Very well," I replied witheringly; "then let him die of the 'cuttings-but he is about as homely as he can be now." Ralph Vanderbilt had been for some time a bone of contention between us. He had come in a set with his sister Edith, and in a sudden fit of generosity I had given him to Laura, keeping Edith for myself. But "men" paper dolls were so pitifully scarce that I had regretted my generosity ever since. I had tried by every possible means to persuade Laura to give him back, but submissive as she generally was, on this one point she remained firm; her devotion to Ralph Vanderbilt never swerved for a moment, and no amount of bribery could induce her to surrender him. Secretly I cherished an affection for him equal to that of Laura herself, though I always spoke of him disparagingly in order to lower him in Laura's estimation. On this particular afternoon I felt wickedly determined to obtain possession of Ralph Vanderbilt by fair means or foul. I racked my sinful little brain for some new scheme-what was Laura's most susceptible weakness? The very sight of her demure little flaxen head bent over the doll house aroused my in dignation; whenever I felt particularly wicked it always seemed so easy for Laura to be sweet-tempered and good, and I was quite sure it was only because her hair was smooth and yellow, while my own black and bristling locks seemed to correspond exactly to my unruly disposition. It was the sight of her devotional attitude that put the scheme into my head; I would try the effect of reason once again, and then-well, we would see what would become of Ralph Vanderbilt. "It really seems to me, Laura," I began, "that it is time I should have Ralph. I will let you have Edith, and she's got two dresses and a hat, and he hasn't but one suit-and anyway I am a year older than you and I ought to have my choice." I really hoped Laura would yield to this argument so that I would not be obliged to resort to more strenuous measures, but she showed no signs of relenting.. 66 "But you gave him to me once," she insisted stubbornly, and I gave you my music box and a bottle of cologne, besides Edith." I saw that it would be useless to explain to Laura that the music box was broken now and that I had spilled the cologne down the register; she did not seem to be amenable to reason, and I was forced to bring my scheme into play. I assumed a scornful look of sisterly pity which I was obliged to continue for fully a minute before Laura turned around to get the benefit of it. Then I shook my head sadly and even forced tears to my eyes. "Oh Laura," I said brokenly, "you don't realize how selfish you are!" with which affecting remark I dropped on my knees and clasped my hands reverently. "Oh, Lord," I began in a tone of gentle sorrow, "my little sister Laura doesn't know how wicked she is; but Thou dost, and so do I, and if Thou canst touch her stony heart, wilt Thou please make her give me the paper doll which it is her duty to do." Here I could not resist opening my eyes a little to see the effect of my supplication on the sinner. Laura was as affected as I could have wished; at last I had touched her at a vulnerable point-the thought of my praying for her sins was too much for her gentle nature-she was already kissing Ralph Vanderbilt good-bye. Seeing that my object was accomplished, I hastily closed my petition for Laura's sins, and went back to my doll house. When Laura gave me the paper doll I accepted it without a twinge of conscience, and all the rest of the after noon I displayed the true spirit of sisterly generosity, by lending it to her at intervals. The domestic happiness of the Astors and Vanderbilts was quite undisturbed until the tragedy occurred. I never understood just how it happened, but I suppose it was my fault for having the heir apparent of the Vanderbilt estate in the front yard of the Astor mansion; at any rate I suddenly discovered the head of Ralph Vanderbilt severed from the body and hopelessly mutilated by some ruthless heel. The house of Vanderbilt had fallen. I held up the pieces tragically. "Laura," said I, as a horrible suspicion flashed into my mind, "You didn't tear up Ralph Vanderbilt on purpose?" The accusation was too much for Laura. "I didn't do it on purpose," she wailed, "and I don't believe I did it at all! I guess it was you that stepped on him yourself!" The suggestion was only too probable, and the thought that I had perjured my soul for a headless paper doll, to say nothing of accusing Laura and making her cry, suddenly plunged me into the depths of remorseful woe. "I guess I probably deserved to step on him," I assented gloomily. "It was all my fault for praying for him, but don't cry any more-we can have a lovely funeral." Ralph Vanderbilt was buried with due ceremony, and in spite of my penitent mood, we both enjoyed his funeral much more than we had his brief existence. Tender hearted Laura managed to shed tears at the ceremony, but my former affection for him had somehow changed to dislike and I was quite unmoved. "I think it was sort of providential that he got stepped on,” I remarked unfeelingly to Laura. "I never could have liked him after this afternoon anyway-he seemed to have kind of a-perjured look!" But though Laura assented, I found I could not entirely relieve my conscience by thus transferring all the blame to Ralph Vanderbilt himself, and I did not feel completely absolved until I had allowed Laura to walk around the picket fence six times. in succession, while I completed my atonement by purposely falling off at frequent intervals. MARGUERITE CUTLER PAGE. APPLE BLOSSOMS The branches, all hoary With wan blossoms' glory Are nodding and swaying, coquettes of an hour. Their foam of sweet snowing Is drifting and blowing And sifting love-tokens in benison dower. And amethyst glinting, Wrapped close in the hooded green depths of their nest, Their censers wind-strewing With sweets of their brewing, They dream on their mother's broad apple tree breast. MARIE LOUISE SEXTON. A PRAYER O Thou who lovest all things best, Give us thy patience, Unwearied zest To find the end for which each soul was made. Nor let us be blind-not blind. O Thou who knowest all things best, Our highest test, That we may judge, Nor be unkind Because we're blind-just blind. O Thou who servest all men best, Help us to help the soul To scorn the rest That is but base. Help us the gold to find Nor let us be blind-not blind. HELEN LOUISE HARSHA. |