ISO-: 



THE AMERICAN BEE KEEPER. 



2& 



AFTER DEATH. 



I Bometimrs linper o'er the list 

 Of friends I lost in other days, 

 And still the question with me stays— 



♦'■When I am gone, shall I be missed?" 



I doubt if others think the same 

 Or even wish to share my thought— 

 That men were foolish who have sought 



To leave a never dying name. 



When thou hast run thine earthly race, 

 Thou wilt not "leave a world in tears," 

 Nor will men come In after years 



To view thine earthly resting place. 



Thy poor remains will rest aa well, 

 Thy spirit will be no less free, 

 Although it is not thine to be 



A Milton or a iiaphael. 



Fret not thyself, but heaven thank 

 If all the good that thou canst do 

 May be so done that only few 



Need ever know thy place is blank. 



Be thankful if but one true heart 

 Shall feel for thee the moment's pain— 

 Ere it can say, "We meet again" — 



Of knowing what it is to part. 



One loving heart thou mayest crave. 

 Lest all thou caredst for on earth 

 Should seem to have no lasting worth 



And end forever in the grave. 



One faithful heart beneath the sky 

 In which to leave a seed of love 

 To blossom in a world above 



And bear a fruit which shall not die. 

 — C. J. Bodenn in Chambers' Journal. 



GETTING A HUSBAND. 



"What an ideal You'll never get any 

 one to do it, Lii. " 



"Oh, yes, I shall! I know just the 

 girl." 



"Who? Do tell me." 



"Can't you guess?" 



"No." 



"You." 



"Me!" I fairly screamed. 



"Yes, you. Now, listen, Bertha. 

 You're just the girl for Duncan. I've 

 always thought so, and I know you both 

 well. Duncan is" — 



"Oh, my dear girl, just as if I didn't 

 know everything that Duncan is and 

 isn't and was 'and will be! "And just aa 

 though any girl would take that sort of 

 thing on trust and not judge for her- 

 self before she went all the way out to 

 India to marry a man!" 



"Bertha, darling, don't get excited. 



Please do think this matter over serious- 

 ly and try and see its advantages. 

 Here, I will give you hia letter to read 

 and leave you for a little. Do try and 

 like the idea. " 



I read the letter and can't say I was 

 much impressed, but as it ex-pJains the 

 position of affairs here it is: 



Dear Old Lil— I am writing to ask a favor 

 of you, but first you must promise you won't 

 think me perfectly mad, as I solemnly assure 

 you I am in earnest. We have always been pals, 

 haven't we? And I think you know exactly 

 what sort of fellow I am. Do you remember 

 you used to say that the reason so many peo- 

 ple are unhappily married is because the man 

 always persists in choosing the girl he falls in 

 love with without considering whether she 

 has the qualities necessary to make hira a good, 

 wife? 1 remember you once said, "Men would 

 be far happier if they would let their sisters 

 choose their wives for them." Well, I want 

 to get married, and I have resolved to give 

 your wise maxims a trial. Perhaps I may be 

 rather a cold sort of fellow ; but, anyway, I 

 have never wanted to marry any of the girls 

 about here. Will you choose a wife for me 

 from among your English girl friends and 

 place the case clearly before her? Tell her all 

 you know of me as regards character, disposi- 

 tion, etc. ; also that I am 29 years of age, well 

 off, tall and, I believe, passably good looking. 

 I should like her to be presentable in appear- 

 ance. The rest I leave to you. We might ex- 

 change photos, only mine would be no good, 

 as they are all old ones, and I know you have 

 no decent ones at home. I need hardly add 

 that, though it is a dangerous experiment, I 

 will do all in my power to make it turn out a 

 success, and whoever trusts herself to me shall 

 never have cause to regret it, if I can help it. 

 Let me know as soon as you can, and, believe 

 me, your affectionate brother, 



Duncan Eastwood. 



After all, it is rather a good idea, I 

 think — original, if nothing else. But 

 somehow I wouldn't like to take the 

 risk. On t'e other hand, I've no home, 

 now that dad's gone, and only a poor 

 little £40 a year to live on. Lil's aw- 

 fully good and kind, but I can't stay 

 here forever. Her husband must think 

 me a nuisance as it is. I shall have to 

 go out as a governess, and here's a 

 chance of marrying a man who is rich, 

 handsome, kind hearted and of whom 

 every one speaks well. I don't care for 

 any one else. Shall I chance it? 



Well, I did, after all. I had no one in 

 the world to advise me but Lil and her 

 husband, and they both thought it a de- 

 sirable match. They said we were made 

 for each other, but I believe in their in- 

 nermost heart of hcrts they think Dun- 

 can a bit too good for me. My photo 

 was sent out, and my future husband 



