THE REBUTTAL YOU HAVE WALKED WITH ME UNDER THE STARLIGHT WHEN THE HEART OF THE WORLD SEEMED ASLEEP; YOU HAVE STOOD WITH ME UNDER THE PINE TREE, AND AS A GIRL SOWS SHE MUST REAP,- THO' YOU TAKE FROM ME EVEN YOUR FRIENDSHIP THOSE MOMENTS ARE MINE-TO KEEP. YOU HAVE DANCED WITH ME-ELFIN FROM DREAMLAND- WITH THE MUSIC'S OWN LILT IN YOUR FEET; YOU HAVE SMILED AT ME, SWAYED WITH THE RHYTHM, YOUR LIPS NEAR, ALLURINGLY SWEET. I SHALL MEET YOU CLEAR-EYED IN THE NOON-TIME, THO' YOUR OWN GLANCE MAY FALL WHEN WE MEET. YOU HAVE SAT AT MY SIDE IN THE CLASS-ROOM, A SERIOUS LIGHT IN YOUR EYES. DO WE REALLY KNOW LESS OF THE BOOK-LORE THAN EVEN THE TEACHERS SURMISE? YOU GLANCE UP AND CATCH ME ADORING- HOW POORLY YOU FEIGN YOUR SURPRISE! YOU ARE CAUGHT, LITTLE TRICKSTER! I KNOW YOU: "M' LADY PRETENSE," BY YOUR LEAVE; WITH YOUR SMILES AND YOUR ARCH LITTLE GLANCES, ENTICING THE WEB THAT YOU WEAVE! THE AGES HAVE ONLY INCREASED IT, THE NATURAL BEGUILEMENT OF EVE. "TILL THE END," YOU HAVE SAID, EYES A-CHAL- LENGE, SINCE THE BURST OF THE BLOSSOMS LAST MAY. "TILL THE END OF THE YEAR; TILL THE PASSING; TILL THE DAY-DAWN OF LIFE," ONE MIGHT FAY. BUT THE END.DEAR, IS JUST THE BEGINNING, FOR THE DAWN BRINGS COMMENCEMENT DAY. COULD I TRUST YOU, TO LEAVE YOU, TO HOLD YOU, "M' LADY PRETENSE," BY YOUR LEAVE? TO HOLD YOU? O BREATH FROM ARCADY! WHAT DREAMS A MAN CAN WEAVE! YES, WERE I THE ONLY ADAM, MOST BEAUTIFUL DAUGHTER OF EVE. THE END, COULD IT BE THE BEGINNING? O, CHARM THAT HOPE DOTH LEND! THE END, COULD IT BE THE BEGINNING? O, PEACE THAT THE ANGELS SEND! LO! YOUR SMILE IS THE SAME FOR US ALL, DEAR; THE BEGINNING MUST BE THE END. BUT I'LL TAKE WITH ME INTO THE DAWNING SOMETHING YOU CANNOT WITH-HOLD,- SACRED AS WORDS THAT THE PROPHETS INTO THEIR PARCHMENTS HAVE ROLLED,- MEMORIES WASHED BY ARCADY'S DEW- TREASURES YOU CANNOT WITH-HOLD. SO WE PART, AS YOU SAY, IN THE DAWNING, "M' LADY PRETENSE," BY YOUR LEAVE; THO' MY LOVE WILL NOT FADE WITH THE BLOSSOMS. CAN IT NET ME AGAIN TO DECEIVE? BUT IF A MAN ONLY COULD TRUST YOU WHAT WONDERFUL DREAMS HE COULD WEAVE! BLANCHE KENDALL MCKEY. ESSAY ON HAPPINESS HAPPINESS is the condition of mind when one is joyful. It is that sublime, supreme phenomenon for which we are all strug- gling. It is the simulus to all our ambitions; all good is accomplished, all crimes committed for this simple condition of mind. How unwise it seems that we, the people of the earth, should go wandering about on the meadow in search of the bubbling fountain of happiness as if we were travelers on a desert looking for an oasis when all the time, that bubbling fountain is right before our sight, within our grasp. Children accept the simple things of life, and this is the beauty, the success of the joys of childhood. Well do I remember, when but a toddling infant, moulding from the soft damp earth, pies to be baked in the sun. What glorious- ness came from wandering in the fields in the spring-time, feeling the soft cool clover and viewing the awakening life. And as the years passed on and childhood advanced, I recall my school days when mingling in mirth with seat-mates until the very lessons became a pleasure. And childhood is not the end of happiness. Middle aged people will say, when recalling memories of childhood, "All joys are now ended." Those people dwell in dark, damp cellars and do not enjoy the sunshine which gives brightness and growth to the flowers of life. It is Spring. Today I strolled in the orchard. The apple trees are in bloom and their fragrance scents the air. I heard the songsters warbling forth the music of their soul and it made my soul glad. 1 forgot the troubles of life; I lived in what I could see. Today I listened to some music. The sweet strains of the violin, throbbed out like a "God in pain." I closed my eyes and was in paradise. The toil, the worry of life were gone. How good, how wise is the Maker. To make us happy, he gives us not only beautiful things and harmonious sounds but also our imagination, that when our surroundings are not pleasant, we still may be happy in "dreaming of what might have been." Thus, thru the window of the Thots of Youth, I gaze out upon the valley of Perfect Happiness, It is a beautiful valley, is it not-wide and fertile and covered with the verdure of the spring-time. But could I look upon the valley from the window of Life, I might behold a different view. Those towering cliffs which I now see so dimly in the distance, from the window of Life may appear great gray crags, overshadowing the valley of Perfect Happiness and hiding the verdure of the spring-time. But such is life. Each individual views the scene from the different windows of the stages of his life and gains happiness in proportion, there from. Oh! if we could but always gaze from the window of Youth's Thots! But if we cannot, we can at least take the lesson from that stage of our life: make the view appear broad and beautiful by accepting our lot, and instead of letting our surroundings make the impression on our lives, we should make our mind fit into and accept our surroundings. VETA JONES