1896. 



THE AMERICAN BEE-KEEPER. 



G5 



PLAYING DOMiNOS. 



MistreFH Morning— well she knowi 

 How to play at doniiuo.s 

 With th(! children, bliihe and gay, 

 Wide awake at break of day. 

 First she shows her bluest skies, 

 Matched by Mary witii her eyes, 

 Next she plays her breezes light, 

 Matched with Lucy's l.aighter bright. 

 Then she throws her sunshine true. 

 Matched with smiles by merry Lou, 

 Flowers come now, sweet white and red. 

 Matched by Josie's flowerlike head. 

 For each charm the; morning throws 

 In this game of domiuos 

 Bomething sweet the children bring, 

 Matching her in everything. 

 If the game goes thus all day, 

 Who will be the victor, praj'? 



—Amos R. Wells in St. Nicholas. 



A MIDNIGHT MIRAGE. 



It was nearly midnight. The ironing 

 was done, and the clothes lay heaped on 

 the table in snowy piles still hot from 

 the iron. Ann Quinn drew a chair up to 

 the little kitchen window that over- 

 looked the river and sat down with a 

 sigh of pain, for her back ached. She 

 tested her chin in her hand and stared 

 through the faint tracery of familiar ob- 

 jects on the glass to the water beyond, 

 lying dark and glossy under the stars. 



"I wonder if Mis' Niles wants that 

 chipped beef for breakfast," thought 

 Ann Quinn, for she was both a cook and 

 a laundress. "Guess I'll fry them cold 

 potatoes left from dinner, too," she con- 

 tinued, her eyes resting on a faraway 

 cluster of electric lights that trembled 

 like a diamond pendant. 



Presently, as she sat there, the red 

 rim of the moon pushed itself up behind 

 some trees on the opposite shore. Ann 

 Quinn watched it rising, with a medita- 

 tive look. "It's terrible red. Them lit- 

 tle branches looks like they was drawn 

 on it with a pen. I wonder what that 

 black thing in the water is !" she broke 

 off as a feeler of moonlight slipped 

 across the river to where something 

 black and long bobbed stiffly in the cur- 

 rent. She shaded her eyes from the lamp 

 and pressed her face close to the glass. 

 "Looks like a man," she muttered. As 

 ehe spoke the thing wheeled about and 

 began drifting in toward the stone 

 breakwater beneath the window. Slow- 

 ly it drew near, the little moon sparks 



dancing in its wake. It floated into the 

 shadow, and she strained her eyes in 

 vain to follow it. 



"Guess I'll go to bed," she said, giv- 

 ing one mcjre look into the darkness. 

 She did not go, though, for suddenly 

 she saw a lean hand thrust over the 

 breakwater, then another, and the next 

 moment the figure of a man crawled out 

 on the stone below her. 



Ann Quinn started back, her heart 

 pumping like a steam dredger, for she 

 heard the thick splash of wet feet com- 

 ing up the steps, and she saw a face 

 pressed against the window that she had 

 just quitted — a drawn face, yellow, pale 

 as the handkerchief knotted about its 

 throat. 



"Let me in, Ann Quinn," said the 

 lips, though she heard no voice. "Let 

 me in. " 



She stood staring, her broad cheeks 

 whiter than the plates on the dresser be- 

 hind her, but she did not move. The 

 man waited a moment ; then he pushed 

 up the sash and swung himself into the 

 room. 



The lamp blinked and guttered in the 

 draft, and a door slammed. Ann Quinn 

 quivered from head to foot. The man 

 stood looking at her with famished eyes. 



"A lifetime, a whole lifetime," he 

 whispered at last, and his voice sound- 

 ed cold and empty as the echo in a 

 vault. 



"Go away !" cried Ann Quinn. "And 

 take your wet hand off my ironing. " 



The man moved and stared at the 

 piles of clothes on the table. 



"Did you do that?" he asked in a low 

 voice. "And are you tired?" 



"Yes, I d-d it, and I am tired," she 

 replied, stealing her way stealthily to- 

 ward tiie door. 



As she moved, her terror lent a new, 

 catlike grace to her awkward body She 

 looked almost like another woman in 

 the swaging light — a woman with nar- 

 row, wicked eyes and ]i;he motions. 

 The man stepped quickly before the door 

 and stood there, his clothes flooding the 

 black river water on her clean floor. 



"And all this time you have worked, 

 while I have had more, a thousand 

 times more, than I could use. Aud we 

 have lived utar each other here in the 

 same city and never knew it. " He cov- 

 ered his face with his hands aud groan- 

 ed. "Our sin — what was it that we 



