Western field . explosion du cerveau de sa douleur pulsatoire Mais pendant une heure est libéré. T. Shelley Sutton FANCES. 5AFELY assis neath un treeListening à une abeille bourdonnante.À Côté de moi se trouve un livre non coupé, (Companion pour un coin ombragé).June dit son poetrya nessy ton—si doux pour moi—que dois-je maintenant de stylo ou de bookWhen Dieu habite dans le coin ombragé—Et un peu d'abeille bourdonnante? Le soleil dérive l'oer l'arbre-Smiles ses rayons de soleil vers le bas sur moi; L'arbre, le soleil, la herbeuse tordue Seem pur comme une femme de ménage de crevettes à la masse. Et une cloche bleue me fait la tête. Les drones d'abeilles bas une litany.Le renard-gant semble un bonnie l

• Contributeur: The Reading Room
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Western field . bursting brain of its pulsing pain Though but for an hour is freed. T. Shelley Sutton FANCIES. 5AFELY seated neath a treeListening to a buzzing bee.Beside me lies an uncut book, (Companion for a shady nook).June is telling her poetryIn a drowsy tone—so sweet to me—What need I now of pen or bookWhen God dwells in the shady nook—And a little buzzing bee? The sun is drifting oer the tree-Smiles his sunbeams down on me;The tree, the sun, the bending grassSeem pure as a shriven maid at mass.And a blue-bell nods his head to me.The bee drones low a litany.The fox-glove seems a bonnie lassWho slightly bends her head at mass—And maybe prays for me. The sun is down—still neath the tree, I dream of youth and poetry.Of rhyme not found in printed book.Of music from a boyhood brook.While a dove moans plaintively;The night winds incense blesses meAs I step away from the shady nook, And absent minded leave my bookOf uncut poetry! —Sam Ext on Foulds. WHEN THE SIGN WAS RIGHT. By S. D. Barnes.. NE of my hindfeet is itchinto-night, remarked Charliewith the perfect gravity ofone announcing a most seri-ous fact, Going to rain? I quer-ied, carelessly cognizant ofmy companions peculiari-ties of expression and abid-ing faith in signs. ThaVs when my rheumatiz hurts me, ora screech owl hollers afore night, or tharsa ring around the moon. Im going to dewsome tall runnin afore long—thats whatthis means. Ive had the like three timesafore. A stranger would have cut in here withleading questions. Three months earlierin the game such an indiscretion might havebeen mine; but I had learned better. If youwant to study human traits and character-istics, persuade your subject to go with youon a hunting trip to the mountains. Charlie coaxed the last bit of smoke fromhis cracked and charred pipe bowl, refilledit from the pouch 1 threw him, and withbare fingers whisked a live coal atop. Thenhe took pity on my known, though carefullyrepressed curiosity. Fust time was when I tried

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