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THE COPPER ERA, CLIFTON, ARIZ., DEC. 21, 1899.
3 ' CALENDAR OF DISCONTENT. SPRING. Too well I know you. Spring, and so re strain My foolish muse from all such Batterings vain As ,mlld" and "gentle" lest I be repaid Kver. as Marsyas of old, and flayed. This time by Icy ball and cutting sleet. Instead I pray your going may be fleet. That soon I may forget and drowse away My weariness beneath dear Summer's sway. SUMMER. Insufferable season of the sun. When will your endless reign of Are be done? When will your noisy Insect court take flight T Tour orchestra that rests not day or night; Your armies with unconquerable stings: When will they flee what for do they have wings? How long before Drave Autumn with a shout. Will succor me and put them all to rout? AUTUMN. You dismal mourner, walling by the bier Of Summer dead, with lamentations drear. Driving me frantic ever and anon. With reminiscences of Summer gone. Now mlmicing her tenderest airs and tones, Now harrowing me with horrid shrieks and groans. Were good old Jolly Winter only here, I'd soon forget you and your evil cheer " WINTER. Hoary Imposter! with mock Jovial air, You took the green earth prisoner unaware And pinioned the trees that moan andcall To spring to free them from yourjey thrall. You manacled the stream who tugs in vain To loose himself from your relentless chain. And I my heart is sad, my lyre is dumb. Mild, gentle Spring oh! will you never come? Oliver Herford, in Scrlbners. i On His Dignity ARE you going up to town to-day, papa?" asked Muriel Kennard, addressing her father as they sat at the breakfast table on this crisp and sunny September morning. "No. dear, I have several matters to attend to here; the estate accounts and so forth, which will occupy me for the greater part of the day." "How is your new secretary get ting on?" she inquired, after a short pause. "He's not a fool, but he seems to have a somewhat inflated opinion of his own importance." Mr. Kennard was a tall, masterful lookiDg man, with keen dark eyes and a hard and severe type of face. Fifty five years of age, the banker, for that was Mr. Kennard's profession, still pre served the hale and vigorous appear ance of a comparatively young man. "Is his manner objectionable, then, papa?" she asked, as she rose from the table. "Yes, it's objectionable in the sense that he is rather off-hand and a trifle too self-assertive for a person of his position. After all, a secretary is only a clerk, and clerks must be kept in their proper place. In a few minutes the banker left the breakfast room and went to the li brary, where his secretary,- Mr. Hope, a frank and refined-looking young man with keen, blue eyes and dark, curly bair, was hard at work. "Have you finished that statement relative to the rental averages?" he asked in a snappish tone, as he seated himself at his table and proceeded to glance at sundry documents which the secretary had placed before him, "Not yet. Mr. Kennard. You only gave it to me last night, you know, and it will take several hours to finish." "Nonsense! a junior clerk in my bank would get through it in an hour. You really must bestir yourself a little if you wish to remain here. Get on vith that settlement at once. Do you jnderstand? At once!" An angry flush mounted the secre tary's pale face, and, looking steadily at his employer, he said in a voice, vi brating with suppressed indignation: "Mr. Kennard. I must really ask you to desist from treating me in this fash on. I am desirous of doing my duty, but' "Go on with your work, sir! How dare you attempt to bandy words with me?" "I really cannot put up with this sort of treatment any longer," replied the secretary, emphatically. "I have been here a month, and have patiently sub mitted to your bullying and browbeat ing airs, but " "But." angrily interrupted the bank er, as he started to his feet, "you shall not have the satisfaction of giving me notice, young man. You shall go, sir, Vnd at once. The idea of a paltry fellow such as you, a man in receipt of two pounds a week, and not worth even that, daring to" At that instant Muriel Kennard en tered the room and an expression of pain and regret clouded her face as her eyes fell upon the two men. "This precious secretory of mine. Muriel." continued the banker, turning to his daughter,."wishes to reverse our positions. He thinks he knows the du ties of an employer better than I do. so I have" "I merely resented, and I now rt sent, Mr. Kennard. your gratuitously insult ing treatment of me," said the secre tary, in a tone of firm and manly protest. Miss Kennard hurriedly retreated from the room. evidntly much dis tressed by the painful scene. "You quit understand that after to day your services will not be needed here?" continued the banker, address ing Gerald Hope, who had quietly re sumed his work at a table at the oppo site side of the room. The secretary bowed, and with a snort of petulance and impatience his irritable and overbearing employer a"itted the room. GciJ'd Hope blamed himself for what had occurred, feeling that if he bad taken bjj earlier opportunity of protesting against Mr. Kennard's offen sive bearing, he might have succeeded in bringing the choleric gentleman to hie senses. In the evening, when the secretary was on the point of leaving to return to his lodgings in Kelverton, a small vil lage in the neighborhood, Mr. Kennard entered the room and banded him a check for eight pounds, saying: "That terminates all business transactions between np. And now take my advice, cultivate a more respectful attitude toward your superiors." "I don't think you are in a position to give advice to anybody upon that subject, Mr. Kennard. You may be rich, but allow me to remind you that mere wealth does not confer superiori ty worthy the respect of any sensible man," and so saying the secretary left the library and waa soon walking rapidly toward the Kelverton road. He slackened his pace in a few min utes and then, pausing, he turned and looked regretfully at the home of Muriel Kennard. What could have possessed him to lose his temper with that sweet and gentle creature this morning? Was it not maddening that he should have done so on the occasion of their last meeting on earth ? Oh ! if he could but tell her how deeply, how keenly, he regretted this petulant outburst! His mind agitated with these thoughts, he slowly resumed his walk along the narrow pathway skirting the dense woods of the Elms domain. He had not been walking many minutes when a small terrier scampered toward him, in the next, instant he saw the tall and slender figure of Muriel Kennard approaching, evidently returning from a visit to one of her many pensioners in the village. He stopped and raised hishat when she was within a few paces of him. Acknowledging the salute with a slight bow. Miss Kennard was brush ing past him when be said: "Miss Ken nard, I fear you are angry with me." She stopped and looked at him, an