194 



THE AMERICAN BEE-KEEPER. 



July 



f^ONNET. 



Ere bafhccl wiuter, at fair spring's first nod, 

 His %vea,kened forces northward home hatb 



led, 

 Wliile remnant drifts about our path are 

 spread, 



The crocus bursts the bondage of the sod. 



And, lo, where late among the snow we trod. 

 The blossom sunward lifts its dainty head. 

 White, purple, gold, along the garden bed. 



To catch the first warm glances of its god. 



Thus, in some gloomy season of the heart. 

 When sorrow all our joy hath overspread 

 And ev'ry voice seems but to make us sad, 

 New hopes arise ere pain can all depart; 

 We fling aside the discontent and dread 



And go our way with faces bright and glad. 

 —Mortimer Mansell in Chambers' Journal. 



U 



MY COUSIN AMY 



Here is a story that Mr. Vau Rensse- 

 laer Crossgraiu told to a few of hig 

 tronies at the chib the other evening 

 after the final brandy and soda. They 

 never before suspected him of any senti- 

 mental weakuesiS, but now they have 

 dieir doubts about it. He did soften in 

 the telling of it, even If when he had 

 finished he resumed his natural manner 

 and swore at the waiter for showing a 

 natural desire to clean up for the evrn- 

 ^ig and gOj p'?rhaps, to his sweetheart. 

 Here's Lis .s{ory: 



"I have known my cousin Amy since 

 the diiys when she was 5 and I was 15, 

 and that was many years ago. Still i 

 never during all that time suspected the 

 truth, and I never knew it till it was 

 too late. Then I learned what might 

 have been, and as I thought the simple 

 story over, it occurred to me it might 

 in its moral prove useful to other young- 

 sters as blind as 1 was and have been. 

 Fortune never knocks twice at a man's 

 door. Few of us knov/ our caller vchen 

 she visits us and are generally di!?p.^ped 

 to ignore hfr summons, taking her for 

 a creditor or a bore. The only vv ay is to 

 learn from the experience of our elders. 



"Young folks think that old folks are 

 fools, old folks know that young folks 

 are. Thus goes the old proverb the san- 

 ity of which never impresses one till he 

 has crossed 30. But let me tell you the 

 story of my cousin Amy. 



"To begin with, she was the sweetest 

 girl that ever was or will be. And she 

 is so now. But tluit is only the comple- 



ment of this story. Well, Amy was, is 

 and will be the sweetest girl in the 

 world. Still I never loved her — except 

 as a cousin and as a sweet girl, the 

 svreetest I ever have seen or shall see. 

 From now on — I don't know, I can't 

 tell — but you are not interested in my 

 future or Amy's, so let's get back to the 

 story Well, then, I have known my 

 cousin Amy since she was 5 years old. 

 Even then she had an infinite sweetnesi? 

 about her w; ' 'i was not overshadowed 

 even by the iallness of life and .spirits 

 which was her second best charm> 



"Even at the age when young maids 

 of do net live long in the thoughts of 

 youths I vvas fond of Amy. She was 

 com-panionable even then, and though 

 at times noisy and persistent, she in* 

 fused her grace even into those dis- 

 agreeable qur.lities and made them hali 

 lovable This was Amy at the age of 5. 

 Well you know how a youth changes 

 after 17. How he becomes then one 

 thing or the other. Good or bad, studi- 

 ous or careless, serious or trifling. Dur- 

 ing the next ten years I saw Amy only 

 now and then. She was changing and 

 ^veloping also, ])ut I paid little atten- 

 tion lo he? grov.'th, I was chasing aftei 

 the false gods Whose worship is so at- 

 tractive to the young man. Amy was- 

 only A child to me at my advanced 

 yeai\s, and while family connections 

 kept mo in frequent contact with her, 

 I thought of my old young friend only- 

 as a rather awkward, shy girl of 15, 

 wliile I wa.s rejoicing in the full man- 

 hood and tmlimited experience and wis- 

 dom of 25, 



"When I saw her in those days I 

 paid little attention to her. There was 

 still the old sweetness there, the power' 

 of loving, the simple but strong attrac- 

 tiveness, but I was busy with my false- 

 gods and tinsel goddesses. You men of 

 30, you know where you worshiped 

 then, and you know how devout you 

 were in your worship and how the fal- 

 lacy and hollowness of your creed never 

 strike you till you have had five or ten 

 years of it, and how then you learn your 

 god is stuffed with the dirtiest kind of 

 sawdust and the worship stinks in your 

 nostrils. Well, I passed through that 

 stage. I went the rounds and rejoiced 

 in the designation of a rounder. No 

 hog wallowed in his filth more luxuri- 

 ously than I, and it took me ten long 



