I'se
willin' ter stan' a beer an' sassenger, 'n' shake 'n' call it squar'. De
club'll now 'journ."
THE BUMBLEBEAVER[7]
BY KENYON COX
A cheerful and industrious beast,
He's always humming as he goes
To make mud-houses with his tail
Or gather honey with his nose.
Although he flits from flower to flower
He's not at all a gay deceiver.
We might take lessons by the hour
From busy, buzzy Bumblebeaver.
[Footnote 7: From "Mixed Beasts," by Kenyon Cox. Copyright 1904, by Fox,
Duffield & Co.]
AFTER THE FUNERAL
BY JAMES M. BAILEY
It was just after the funeral. The bereaved and subdued widow, enveloped
in millinery gloom, was seated in the sitting-room with a few
sympathizing friends. There was that constrained look so peculiar to the
occasion observable on every countenance. The widow sighed.
"How do you feel, my dear?" said her sister.
"Oh! I don't know," said the poor woman, with difficulty restraining her
tears. "But I hope everything passed off well.
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