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II 6 GOODWIN'S WEEIKL-Y.
i THROUGH A WINDOW. I ( I Iroked In through your window, and I saw li What I had hoped and planned and schemed I to see; I J I shall spy through your window, sweet, no more,' lj Henceforth shall trespass laws he kept hy me. l Your evening lamp shed a soft, radiant glow, $; Your yellow autumn flowers were fresh as P May, II Your dark old room seemed filled with whisper I f Ings low I' Of hygono loves that would not quite away. i' j - Empanelled walls told stories of old lore, .f x And hulging volumes told of tales to toll, J While knights entapestried rode ' tli to war, $ ( And round cheeked ladies Wo.ved them prim farewell. 1 ' And there were pudgy godlings, fat and wise, i ; And little tea things brought from Orient I , lands; ! .And there wore you, bronze hair and dear brown j, eyes, i Your white robed presence and your own white hands. O, Maidenhood, sweet bud that lasts an hour, Rare wonder of now flowered, white spring ; bough! O, Motherhood, the full matured flower, t ; And tear washed, sweeter yet art thou. j 0, wonder maiden, whom my strength exiled I i From my fond heart that loved betrothed thee, i 0 tender mother of another's child, j t Thine imago novermore may part from me. I I looked In through thy window, and I saw I I What I had hoped and planned and schemed to j j see Tl.ee and thy child, and I am sad; no more Shall I and Sorrow spy on joy and thee. Teresa. M. Daly in N. Y. Sun. THE SUICIDE. ' ' By Mabel Porter Pitts. , Who could have seen, who could have understood That it would be like this? l So meek she was, so beautiful, so good. I Beside tho river, as she passed at dawn, 'j We met and talked and smiled; j Some shadow troubled me when she was gone. , i' . Wo spoke of trivial things, the rose, the vine That clambers o'er tho door And her exhaustless soul gave forth no sign. Such souls burn out their life flame breath by breath And we porcoivo them not Until illumined by the light of death. I Such souls do what they must, not what they would. i Thay come and pass unheard, Afraid lest they may not be understood. I I thought I saw her walking there apart, ' j But it was not herself, Herself lay hidden In her inmost heart. II thought I spoke with her but what w said A sound was from the Upb; i And now, so soon, they bring her to me dead. y Town Talk. I LAPLAND. Lapland is situated in the big, easy chair (most any chair, on a pinch) between 10 o'clock and midnight. It is always dark in Lapland, but tho darkness Is peculiar. You can see all you care to see, and nothing you don't care to see. Everything is couleur de rose, moreover. Lapland is peopled exclusively by yourself and the dearest little woman in the world. There are a great many of her, first and last, but only one at a time. Lapland is the most densely populated country in the world. There Ib never room for one more. The climate is salubrious. Heart troubles, especially, are benefited. The chief product of Lapland is bliss. The output is enormous. The only industry is taking no thought Of tho morrow. The introduction of new processes la not encouraged, and the old way of doing things still prevails, very largely. Panics and hard times are unheard of. New York Life. A woman was at a dinner party with an emi nent Chinese philosopher, when she said: "Majr I ask why you attach so much importance to tho dragon in your country? You know there is no such creature, don't you? You have never seen one, have you?" "My dear madam," graciously answered the great Chinaman, "why do you attach so much importance to the Goddess of Liberty on your coins? You know there is no such lady, don't you? You have never seen her, have you?" "Did you ever do any good in tho world?" ' "Lots; I'm a piano mover." Town Topics. AFTER THE THEATRE. There isn't a question in a lady's mind about the restaurant she wants to go to the only time she can't understand what the trouble is with her escort, is when he doesn't take her to the Louvre. After six o'clock in the evening the class of a follow is known by tha cafe in which he dines or goes to after the theatre, and the Louvre is the Mecca for those who prefer good food, good music, good wino and good fellowship. ' 'J ANNA EVA FAY, at the Orpheum Next Week BPjPXMHPAHi)HMB1BflttiHBiHBHSBIIMMafHMJ