.HUB ETON BOYS.
ITT. E N0RLI3.
"1 had the pleasure of belng'rathcr in
timately acquainted with I.ady Bracknell
some years ago," replied Jim, grimly.
"Oh, yes, of course. Well, she'll be
very glad to see you again. Gome and
dine with us somo evening. I expect we're
pretty deeply engaged just now, bnt I'll
drop yon a line." Well, those young swells took themselves
When Jim had departed, I could not offi 0M By one, nntu ,he and I were left
help remarking, "It must be very eon- alone, and then-do you know what she
venient to have such a bad memory as did then!"
I0-" , , "To be sure I do," I replied. "She
Ilracknell was apparently preoccupied. I iKW hw chair close up to yours, put her
"Bad memory? How do you mean!" he head a little on one tide, gated pensively
asked. "Oh, I seel But It would be more ,t jmtt lnd presently gave yon to under
tone purpose to pity Leigh for having ,tand that you wore the only man whom
auoh a confoundedly good one, wouldn't ltf rt,e had ever loved with pure affection."
Be looked as sulky as a bear. Iaay, May- .0h, no; she didn't go quit that
nard, will you do me a small favor!" I though I must say However,
"That depends on what It may be," I j perhaps I ought not to tell you."
answered. "I do not see the use of having a tried
"Oh, it isn't much of a one. Ton know t trusted friend it he la not to be let
the editor of The Piccadilly Gaaette, don't ju, your confidence. I think yon decld-
you well, just run your eye over this
paragraph that he haa put into his scur
rilous paper."
He drew a newspaper from Us pocket
and pointed to the following oracular an
nouncements ..
"A certain noble earl is not quite so
enfeebled in Intelligence as Is sometimes
aunnosed. Kot satisfied with knowing
that hia son is heir presumptive to a vast
slaw, ne is moving neaveu ana eann ui
g his daughter married to the present ;
holder thereof; so that, In case of the ad-
vent of an heir apparent upon the scene, 1
the property may at least remain In the
family. And yet the heir presumptive la
not happy, they say."
"I don't want AJf Beanchamp to read
that aortof thing, yonknow,"aaid Brack-,
nelL - Ma
"lean well believe that you don't," I
answered; "but how do yon propose to
prevent him from reading it, aince it ia
already In print!"
"Oh, that's Bothlng. Very likely he
won't at. It; and U he does see it, e odds !
are that he won't understand. What I
want Is to atop this newspaper brute from I
speaking more plainly. Yon might he a I
good fellow and manage it for me. Tell :
mm we'u invite mm to ainner u ne axes, '
and if that won't do, find out what will
da 1 suppose he has his price.'
"Very likely he has," I answered, "and
I am much nattered by your Intrusting me
with this delicate mission. But I am like
the editor I demand my quid pro quo,
ad if I do this for you, you will have to
do something for me."
"With all the pleasure in life; bnt It
isn't much that I can do for any man, ex
cept ask Dim to dinner."
"Yon can do a little more for Jim Leigh,
whom I think yon will admit that you
have treated rather badly. First of all,
you can beg his pardon. Is that too bitter
a pill for you to swallow!" '
"Oh, I'll beg his pardon, if it will nuke
him any bappier," answered Bracknell,
laughing.
"Secondly, -you must promise that yon
will neither ask him to play cards with
yon nor borrow money of him."
Bracknell opened bis eyes. "Do yon
know, Maynard," aaid he, "that that is
not very far removed from being an im
pertinent request"
I replied that I might have aaid much
the same thing of the request which he
had addressed to me. Anyhow, I must have
his promise, or I should not go to the office
of The Piccadilly Garotte.
So he laughed again and gave the re
quired pledge, and went his way, leaving
me somewhat reassured aatoJim's future.
Lady Bracknell, I knew, would try to
make him tall in love with her again; bnt
I was not much afraid of her succeeding.
Clever aa ahe was, she was not quite
clever enough to understand that the
surest way of disgusting Jim would be to
show him that she was no more true to
tne husband whom the had chosen than
she had been in days gone by to himself.
CHAPTER VAX
One morning not long after this, Jim
did me the honor to breakfast with me,
and gave me an account of hia first inter
view with Lady Bracknell, which amused
me very much and contrasted favorably
in point of style with his epistolary effort.
"I thought," aaid he, "that 1 had better
call and get it over; so I went to Wilton
place about V o'clock in the afternoon,
hoping that ahe would be in the park and
that I might leave my card and retire.
But as she was at home, I had to march
Into the drawing room, feeling a little shy
and awkward, don't you know, as one
does after spending such a long time out
of reach of civilization. I dare say I got
rather red in the face, and I was horribly
conscious that my boots squeaked. There
were lot of men In the room, young fel
lows with bouquets in their buttonholes
and very high collars I hear you call
them 'washers' nowadays and they all
opened their eyes and mouths at me,
which was like their impudence. I con
fess that they made me uncomfortable at
first; but after a bit I recollected that if I
hod ordered the eldest of them to run up
to the Brocas tor me eight or nine years
ago be would have put his best leg tore
most, and that set me more at my ease.
Besides, I almost forgot them from the
moment that Hilda began to talk to me.
Mr dear Harry, what an extraordinary
what a miraculous change!
ion never
nreoared me for anything of the sort"
"I told you that her hair had become
debased from gold to copper," I remarked,
"If I didn't prepare you tor any more
startling change, it was because I must
own that I can't detect any."
"Can't detect any ! Do yon mean to
tell me that Lady Bracknell la the same
woman as Hilda Turner Oh, I know
what yon are grinning at; you think the
ebange la in me, and that there never waa
any such person as the Hilda whom I wat
to love with. Perhaps you are right; but
tor all that she has transformed herself
Into something very unlike what she used
to be. She doesn't look a day older, and
speaking Impartially at I can now I
should say that she is prettier, it any-
thing; bntoh, dearl I didn't likeherwayt
of going on at all She is quit the mod-
em great ladyrtlie hot all tnefothlonabU)
lung at the tin of her Uiairaa: and tut
said tiling which which well, I hat to
hear Indies say such things. Ami it struck
me thnt the mashers were anything but
respectful to her. As I listened to her, I
wondered how I could ever hare been such
an idiot but no matter! Yon anld the
wouldn't fascinate me, and roost certainly
he didn't, I am quite cure,:, Harry, and
I nippoat I enght "to he re-y glad, bnt
when one haa nursed a tv.nplaint for
years, It makes one feel r -iior queer to
lose it nil of a sudden, The sensation ia
something like having a double tooth out.
It's a good riddance, of course; bnt it
seems to leave an enormous gap behind it
My ons.ht to tell me what ahe did," aaid
I. For I wanted to know.
'Well," Jim continued, "she began by
abusing Bracknell said he was a drunk
ard and a spendthrift, and that he ill
treated her, and I don't know what all
Fancy a woman speaking about her hus
band Uke that!"
Evidently this was a new and distaste-
experience to Jim. "Perhapa it was
though," I suggested.
"if it was, she ought to have been the
fat person to say so," returned that hard
hearted Jim. "But, between ourselves,
i don't believe it was true. She haa told
roe untruths before now, and why
shouldn't she tell them again! I tried to
atop her; but it wasn't a bit of good. She
went on about her marriage having been
mistake, and about her having been
drawn into it and having renewed when
u wai too late, and so forth. Do you
anppose she aays that sort of tiling to
everybody!"
j pied thst t mint taoT. bnt
probahly ,he endeavored to auit her
conversation to her auditor,
"Her conversation didn't suit me, at all
mntgn turned Jim, emphatically,
And tneI1 he told how Bracknell bad
u;. bawim
begged his pardon in very frank and
manly way for the wrong that he had
done him six years before.
"I went to call at Portman square the
next day," he continued. "Poor old
Lord Staines waa always kind to me when
1 was a boy, and I think it amused him to
hear all about my adventures. He wanted
to know whether 1 hod seen UttieSunning
yet, and begau to brag about the boy
and his pluck and his beauty very much
aa he used to brag about Bracknell long
ago. Poor old fellow I It was rather sad
to hear him. He said, 'I hope you and
Bracknell have made It up.' and when I
told him that we hod, he muttered,
'That's right that's right Old friends
oughtn't to quarrel about a woman.
Women aren't worth quarreling about
After which he pushed his chair back and
made a little bow to Lady Mildred. 'I
dsn't mean yon, my dear,' he said; 'you're
worth your weight In gold, as everybody
knows.1 I remember your mother used
always to be telling me that Lady Mildred
was perfection, but somehow I never no
ticed in those days how pretty she was. I
suppose I had only eyes for one person
then. Ah! well, times are changed. I'd
very much rather talk to Lady Mildred
than to Lady Bracknell now. I had a
long chat with her while her father dozed
over the newspaper. It was pleasant to
find that she hadn't forgotten me at all
though she said she would hardly have
known ma with my beard, which she
didn't consider an improvement."
"Is that why you hove shaved it off" I
Inquired; tor Indeed Jim's long thin foes
had been deprived of that ornament
"Ob, well, one doesn't want to look
more like a backwoodsman than one can
help, you know," be answered. "As I
was saying, Lady Mildred and I had a
good talk and discussed you all, and en
Joyed ourselves very much, until one of
Lady Bracknell's mashers came In and
interrupted us. A fellow called Beau
champ; do you know anything of him?"
"Alfred Beauchainp," I replied, "ia a
young man whom everybody knows some
thing about, by reason of his being quite
in the front rank of eligible bachelors.
His rent roll ia said to exceed 4U,UUU a
year; also he has cool mines, which, I be
lieve, are expected to go on increasing in
value. He is the only surviving son of
the late Lady Staines' brother, and in the
event of bis dying without issue, the
whole of his property would pass to
Bracknell. As it would be dangerous to
count upon his doing anything so obliging
as that, the family have decided to marry
him to Lady Mildred; only I Imagine they
haven't ventured to tell him so, because,
of course, he is his own master, and he
might insist upon his light to choose
wife for himself. Did Lady Mildred re
ceive him well!"
"I don't know what yon call receiving
him well," answered Jim, looking a'littie
displeased. "She was civil to him, but I
didn't stay long after he came in, I must
say he struck me as being rather a young
fool and certainly not good enough for
her. .Do you suppose that she wants to
marry hlmr"
"Lady Mildred Is a dutiful daughter,"
I replied, "and Lord Staines Is notoriously
in embarrassed circumstances I can't
say tor certain what she may want, but I
think I con form a pretty shrewd guess
at what she will have to do. She is not
so very much to be pitied, after all. There
are very few girls in Loudon who would
refuse Alfred Beauchamp, lean tell you."
"Ah, you're just what you used to be!"
exclaimed Jim, impatiently. "Why should
yon always take such a delight in repre-
tenting that everybody it selfish and sor-
did!" "I
j. pointed out that jhad made no such
general arraignment and that to far at
jjy Mildred was concerned, I had meant
& imi,ir nmt, if she married her cousin,
i,e wouid probably do to from motives of
anal sn(i disinterested affection; but Jim
d BOt disposed lip listen to me.
. idare say you knew more about It
than I do," he interrupted, "Anyhow, It's
&0 butinest of mine '
I did not tell him that I had reason to
doubt whether poor lady Mildred would
be happy with lkwuluiiro. My mother still
maintained that the tiii l'o heart had been
given past recalling to Jim; but It would
have been a pity lo hint at such a state of
things; because he wits evidently a little
smitten with her, and It was quite certain
that she conid not now accept htm, whether
he wore a lieard pr not So I agreed with
him that these projected marriages In high
life did not concern humble individuate
like ourselves, and suggested, by way of
changl ng tho subject, that we should drive
up to Lord's to see the Eton and Harrow
match, as we had previously arranged
to do.
Jim and I threaded our way, grumbling,
through the deup fringe of spectators,
whose perHoiis and vehicles effectually
prevented ns from catching a glimpse of
the game, and, having been provided with
tickets by a member, were about to turn
these to account when wo were arrested
by hearing our namescallcd out in a high,
clear voice which was familiar to both of
us. From tho open carriage in which the
was sitting;, nrrmmded, as usual, by
fashionable youths, Lady Bracknell beck
oned ns to approach, and we could not dc-
otherwlse than obey her orders. Her lady
ship was clad in Eton blue from the crown
of her head to the sole of her foot, and very
becoming the color was to her. She at
tacked Jim at once.
"Come and talk to me," she said; "I
have a thousand things to ask you. You
don't want to look at that stupid cricket,
do you!"
Jim, with a self .assertion for which I
should not have given him credit, replied,'
"Well, I crime here for that purpose."
But probably the reluctance of the fly acts
as an agreeable stimulus upon the spider.
"You shall go and look at it presently,"
Hilda said, and signed to him to get in
the carriage beside her.
So I left them together and strolled on,
feeling truly sorry for poor Jim, because I
am sure that it must be a most unpleasant
thing to be obliged to talk to a woman
with whom you have 6uce been madly in
love and whom you love no longer.
I hod not proceeded very far before I
came upon tho Staines party old Lord
Staines lying back iu his carriage, propped
up by cushions which kept slipping down
and demanded careful watching .on the
part of Lady Mildred; little Lord Sun
ning, standing upon his grandfather's
knee to get a better view of the gome; and
Alfred Beauchamp, leaning over the car
riage door and blowing cigarette smoke
into his cousin's face.
I stopped to speak to them, and Lord
Staines said, "So your friend Leigh is
back ogam at lost, is he! back at last
eh! Stupid fellow! If he had stayed at
home, he'd have got over his disappoint
ment sooner and thanked Heaven for It
I tee more thau that young woman fancies
more than she fancies by a long
way." - c
The old gentleman had contracted a dis
quieting habit of thinking aloud. He
went on muttering to himself now, and I
dare say that If his remarks had been
audible, they would have been found to
he uncomplimentary to his daughter-in-law,
whom he detested; but who, never
theless, had reduced him to a state of tol
erably complete subjection. Lady Mildred
looked a little nervous, I thought, and
went on talking very fast to Beauchamp,
a fair complexioned young man, whose
conversational powers were not brilliant,
yet who was by no means such a fool as
Jim had hastily assumed him to be. It
struck me that he was bringing his mind
to bear upon the thought that it might be
ft good thing if he were to marry his
cousin and that he was succeeding very
fairly well.
However, his attention, If such they
were, were soon interrupted. Little Sun
ning, who was rather a friend of mine,
had clambered from his grandfather's
knee on to my Hhoulder and hod just dealt
a resounding blow upon the top of my
hat, by way of applause to a retiring bats
man, when a vision of sky blue flitted be
fore my eyes, and a high pitched voice (I
forget whether I have mentioned that
Hilda's voice had a metallic ring which
no efforts on her part availed to soften)
said: "You are a nice sort of a person to
make appointments with, Mr. Beau
champ! May I ask whether you remem
ber begging me to bring you here to-day!
And are you aware that I kept the car
riage waiting for you three-quarters of
an hour!"
And then I heard Beauchamp murmur
ing excuses from tho background. "By
Jovel lady Bracknell, I'm so awfully
sorry. What an Idiot I am! Can't think
how I came to forget It!"
There woe an indistinct rejoinder, fol
lowed by a gradual dying away of both
voices, from which I concluded thnt her
ladyship had taken the young man by the
ear and led him off. Having persuaded
Sunning that he would be more comfort
able, and that I should be cooler, if he got
up on to the box, and having thus re
gained the power of turning my head
round, I perceived that Jim hod taken
Beauchamp's place and wat conversing
with Lady Mildred, whose eyes bad grown
perceptibly brighter during the last few
minutes. She certainly looked very pretty
in her white dress, and I could not wonder
at the satisfaction which Jim obviously
derived from gazing at her; but tt was
unlucky, to say the least of it that he
should have taken tuch a long time to
discover her beauty. Six years before,
when Alfred Beauchamp bad had a father
and an elder brother living, there might
have been some hope for him; but his
chance was now represented by a zero of
a type so clear that one could only hope he
might be enough of a reasonable being to
see it Reasonableness, however, was not
bit distinguishing characteristic
to b flOHTrmriD,
Mmr roll.
Rev. Primrose The tide walla for an man,
my young friend.
Merritt-So they say. Btill, when one lias
down on the sands, it teems to wait till he's
asleep. Ufa
A Wattle! Test
"Mamma, dear, do yon know youVt got
twenty-nine pins in the back of your drees I"
"Good gracious, child, how do you know!"
"Why, I've just pulled them oat "-Pick-Me-Up.
HE FIGURES IN FICTION.
The Original of Pickens' Innpeatot
Huckett Htlll Alive.
James Tnckett, formerly Inspector of the .
detective department of Scotland Yard,
London, has been making a long visit to
friends in Sausiillto, Cal. The ex-inspector,
who is now eighty-two years of age, rose
from the ranks as an ordinary constable to
'the aueition which he aftrward held. His
work was so good that he was repeatedly
promoted, ami he became one of the fa
mous "Bow street runners" before the
special department of detective police was
established at Scotland Yard.
Mr. Tuckett was one of the characters
in Dickens' famous story "Bleak House,"
where he figures as Inspector Buckett
In a pleasant chat with a San Francisco
Chronicle reporter he said: "My happiest
reminiscences are connected with my asso
ciation with the famous novelist, who at
the time I first made his acquaintance
was writing his 'Sketches by Boz.' The
first time I saw him lie was prowling
around Golden square, Soho, in a sus
picious manner, and I followed blm and
asked his business. He said he was in search
of material for newspaper stories, and
he thought no wider or more prolific field
could be found than In the great metropo
lis. He was a quiet, unassuming young
man then, but he Interested me very much
by his flashes of wit and the evident ac
quaintance which he hod with the sub
strata of Loudon life, -
"For years after our first meeting, and
until I became inspector at Scotland Yard,
he regularly met me at the station or left
word where I could meet him, and together
we have visited every quarter of London,
from Connaught square to the slums of
Limehouse hole and Katclitfe highway,
and every den and hole on the river side.
At times we would .enter the dens of
thieves and evil characters of all kinds,
and the early morning dawn would find us
at my post to report with scarcely a word
said between ns; butall the time, furtively
gland ng at his face, I could see how pro
foundly he was impressed by all that we
both saw and heard, and I knew Instinct
ively that he was quietly gathering ma
terial and storing it away for future use in
those wonderful novels of his which have
made his undying fame.
"To most men he was silent, but with
me, after a tramp of eight or ten miles,
when I was released from duty he, accom
panying me to my home in the old Kent
road, would make my flesh creep with his
vivid epitome of what we had seen. Our
friendship grew very strong as the years
rolled on, and when fame and fortune
came to him and I hod ceased active duty
and was' a welcome guest at Gad's Hill,
we would together revisit the old haunts
and recall earlier days.
"The last time we were together on a
tour of this kind was when he was writ
ing the unfinished story of 'Edwin Droad,'
and then he confined himself entirely to
the Thames shore, on the north and
south sides, below Waterloo bridge. On
Wednesdays I was always relieved from
duty early in the evening, and it was a
custom for my good wife to have 'tripe
and trotters' for supper, of which dish
Dickens was particularly fond. He in
variably dropped in just as the meal was
ready and sat at the table with us. His pet
was my little daughter Kmily, now mar
ried and living in Australia."
Out of Work.
At a rough estimate 12,000 young wo
men were thrown out of employment the
last of the year from the reta. dry goods
stores of New York city. One firm alone
dismissed 1,100 women and girls and an
other 700. These unfortunate little mar
tyrs of commerce .and cirenmstances
were for the most part "extras," hired
in November and December for the holi
day trade at salaries that barely paid for
car fare, lunches and the, wear and teat
of clothing. One manager, when ap
proached on the subject, said: "I wot,
ashamed to tell a girl who wanted an en
gagement the wages, and so dismissed
her. It was loss than her living would
cost And yet, what can I do? If wo
men offer to come here to clerk for fifty
cents a day why should I offer her 1(1?"
The trouble is women do not proper
ly value themselves. They are alone in
the world, dependent on their own en
ergies; they want a chance, a footing, an
opening anything that will enable a
beginning. In their desperation they
will work for almost nothing, and once
in a position, have not the bravery to
assert themselves by properly valuing
their services. Time goes on, the star
vation waget are accepted, and not only
does the individual smffor, but the whole
community of labor is affected by the
lower standard of resulting prices.
What the working girls of New York
need is less poetry, less kitchen garden
ing, less awtheticism, less patronage,
and a regular lecture on business tactics.
Sho has no library, she does not take a
newspaper, and if she is to know her
worth the value of honest, earnest labor
and the relation her skill and industry
bear to capital, she must be instructed
by sermon, speech or address. As it is,
the is groping in the dark and growing
the plant of experience for herself, bnt
it is sad gardening, for there are thorns
instead of fruit, and in the leavea is
poison. New York World.
Avoiding Shook.
"Come, Slowpay," said one of his creditors
appealiugly, "why don't you pay me that
little bill you have owed for the last five
years!" - - .
"Simply out of consideration for you, my
dear fellow," said Slowpay. "Your family
physician told me years ago that you were
subject to heart disease." Somervuie
Journal. ,
QustlAod.
"Hello, Lamb, are you still striking.it rick
In Wall streeti"
"No, in (act I lost all I had there I"
"I'm awry (or that What are you doing
now!"
' "Just now I'm writing Tips for Speeu
'ators1 for the dally press. "life.
An Intelligent but Predatory Cow !
I once lived in a village where one
half the inhabitants kopt cows, and
expected them to forage their living
off tne other half. Finding the usual
gate fastenings of no aval, I added a
bolt, and slept that night secure. The
next uioining every cow in the vil
lage was in my garden, and so full of
cabbages that cost me two dollars a
head to raise that they could not go
through the gate, and I had to knock
down a panel of fence to let them
out. That night 1 added a log ehain
and a patent padlock, and sat up in
company with a double barreled gun
to watch the proceedings.
An old brindled she pirate came up
and surveyed the house to make sure
we were abed. Then she shook the
gate and again surveyed the house.
Next she went to work on the bolt
with her tongue. In five minutes
she hauVit drawn and started to come
ia. She looked surprised to find her
self still on the outside. Half a
dozen of her companions came up
and surveyed the new jewelry. Then
brindle broke a horn trying to lift
the gate off its hinges. ;
They appeared to hold a council of
war; then an old spotted gormand
inserted a horn under the chain,
lifted it over the post and the whole
drove marched inside. I gave it up
and took the gate off its hinges. I
now raise all my vegetables at the
market. Exchange.
Maurice de Gaerln and His Sister.
Five years before the volume con
taining the journal, letters and
poems of Maurice de Guerin, was
published, the public had learned to
know his sister Eugenie and delight
in her wonderful letters. Indeed,
Sainte-Beuve thought her genius
equal, if not superior, to her broth
er's; but Matthew Arnold, to whom
the English speaking world is in
debted for a first introduction to the
brother, says:
No one has a more profound re
spect for M. Sainte-Beuve's critical
judgments than I have; but it seems
to me that this particular judgment
needs to be a little explained and
guarded. In Maurice's special talent,
which was a talent for interpreting
nature, for finding words which in
comparably render the subtalest im
pression which nature makes upon
us, which brings the intimate life of
nature wonderfully near to us, it
seems to me that his sister was by
no means his equal. She never, in
deed, expresses herself without grace
and intelligence; but her words,
when she speaks of the life and ap
pearances of nature, are in general
but intellectual signs they are not
like her brother's symbols equiva
lent with the thing symbolized.
Scribner's.
Use the Snakes to Bind the Sheaves.
Several parties were telling snake
stories. Each one tried to tell a bet
ter snake story than the other, until
finally the rivalry became so great
that some of the story tellers begun
to diverge a little from the line of
truth. Alex Barr was taking it all
in, and when he thought the thing
had gone about far enough he said:
"I'll never forget the year the rat'
tlesnakes were so bad down in Clari
on county. It wasavvfuL I remem- '
ber one day a number of us were
harvesting wheat, and as the men
went along with their cradles they
cut the heads off of two or three rat
tlers at every stroke." v ;
"Great heavens 1" exclaimed a by
stander. , "I would have thought'
that the stench of so many dead
snakes lying around would have
given everybody the cholera, What
did you do with the carcasses?"
"Well," replied Mr. Barr, "weiiaed
the snakes to bind the sheaves with, :
and when thrashing time came we
took them off, rendered the fat out
and sold it for soap grease:" '
That concluded the snake stories
for the day. PuiiXBiitawnev Spirit.
Cleared by Opening a Gruve.
A gentleman who had lived for a
considerable time out of the country
died apparently a few days after bis
return. It was alleged that his de
cease had fallowed suspiciously near
the eating of a pudding prepared by
his stepmother. She was hence ar
rested and charged with his murder.
The grave was opened for the pur
pose of making an analysis of the
contents of the man's stomach. It
was then discovered that the man
had turned completely over in his
coffin and was lying on his face. Ha
had been buried alive. This evi
dence of the cause of death wag tit
course conclusive, and the woman
was released Yankee Blade.
Never mix pansies with other
Bowers, they are a thousand time
more lovely by themselves; indeed
most flowers are.
A German geologist estimates
the Dead sea will be one mass ri
talt within less than CU0 ye f i