Will the simple, trusting faith As the weary years go on, If your sweetest love shall fail, Should your life-path grow so dark To the light, my Margery? Will the woman, folding down True, my darling, life is long, He will keep your childish faith, You have taught a lesson sweet THE MIGHT OF LOVE.-ALICE CARY. "There is work, good man, for you to-day!" So the wife of Jamie cried, "For a ship at Garl'ston, on Solway, "And, lassie, would you have me start, "But, Jamie, be not, till ye try, And far and near the men were pressed, And while the outward-flowing tide The ship's mate from the beach-belt cried: "Her hull is heeling toward the side Where the men are at work below!" And the cartmen, wild and open-eyed, Like dead leaves in the sudden swell Thank God, thank God, the peril's past! "Back, back, all hands! Get what you can Or pick, or oar, or stave." This way and that they breathless ran, To dig him out of his grave! "Too slow! too slow! the weight will kill! "Out with the cargo!" Then they go "Back to the sands! too slow, too slow! He's dying, dying! yet, heave ho! Heave ho! there, once again!" And now on the beach at Garl'ston stood A woman whose pale brow wore Its love like a queenly crown; and the blood On, on it trampled, stride by stride. And all that were free threw picks aside, But lo! the great sea trembling stands; As if for the sake of the two white hands "Come to me, Jamie! God grants the way," And the sea, so cruel, grew kind, they say, THE STATUE IN CLAY. "Make me a statue," said the King, The sculptor heard the King's command, He had no marble, but he went, Day after day he wrought the clay, To-day the statue seemed to grow, The third day all was well again; At last his life-long work was done- He took his statue to the King, "Where is my statue?" asked the King. He touched the statue, and it changed; A marble shape before him stands, MARK TWAIN AND THE INTERVIEWER. The nervous, dapper, " peart" young man took the chair I offered him, and said he was connected with "The Daily Thunderstorm," and added, "Hoping it's no harm, I've come to interview you." "Come to what?" "Interview you," "Ah! I see. Yes-yes. Um! Yes-yes." I was not feeling bright that morning. Indeed, my powers seemed a bit under a cloud. However, I went to the bookcase, and, when I had been looking six or seven minutes, I found I was obliged to refer to the young man. I said, "How do you spell it?" "Spell what? "Interview." "Oh, my goodness! What do you want to spell it for?" "I don't want to spell it: I want to see what it means." "Well, this is astonishing, I must say. I can tell you what it means, if you-if you Oh, all right! That will answer, and much obliged to you, too." "I n, in, te r, ter, inter "- "Then you spell it with an I?” "Why, certainly!” Oh, that is what took me so long!" Why, my dear sir, what did you propose to spell it with?" Well, I-I-I hardly know. I had the Unabridged; and I was ciphering around in the back end, hoping I might tree her among the pictures. But it's a very old edition." "Why, my friend, they wouldn't have a picture of it in even the latest e- My dear sir, I beg your pardon, I mean no harm in the world; but you do not look as-as-intelligent as I had expected you would. No harm,-I mean no harm at all." "Oh, don't mention it! It has often been said, and by people who would not flatter, and who could have no inducement to flatter, that I am quite remarkable in that way. Yes yes: they always speak of it with rapture." "I can easily imagine it. But about this interview. You know it is the custom, now, to interview any man who has become notorious." 'Indeed! I had not heard of it before. It must be very interesting. What do you do it with?" "Ah, well-well-well-this is disheartening. It ought to be done with a club, in some cases; but customarily it consists in the interviewer asking questions, and the interviewed answering them. It is all the rage now. Will you let me |