La Chap-livre ; semi-mensuels . ation du Boston famille est sûre. Arekilled hommes souvent en Bokoto, et personne ne prend la peine d'aller LOUISE IMOGEN GUINEY 343 à Boston pour faire connaître les nouvelles. J'ai écrit au vieil homme, andhe expédié la pierre tombale de Chicago. Yanda se trouve quelque part dans le pays avec Comanche aprice sur sa tête. La femme vit dans un peu d'enfer de son propre 10 mileswest. Je lance le trou vert - et il *la commune s squarest dansle pays indien - et son blamefor la nation c'est à tout cela. W. Douglas Colyar. L'arrêt de nouveau en monochrome rapide.Gaine beautys où anciennes formes renouveler.La série wo

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The Chap-book; semi-monthly . ation of the Boston family is safe. Men arekilled often in Bokoto, and no one takes the trouble to go LOUISE IMOGEN GUINEY 343 to Boston to tell the news. I wrote to the old man, andhe shipped the headstone from Chicago. Yanda is somewhere in the Comanche country with aprice on his head. The woman lives in a little hell of her own ten mileswest. I run the Green Hole — and it *s the squarest joint inthe Indian country — and its the Nation thats to blamefor it all. W. Douglas Colyar. MONOCHROME SHUT fast again in beautys sheath.Where ancient forms renew.The round world seems, above, beneath.One wash of faintest blue. And air and tide so stilly sweetIn nameless union lie;The little far-off fishing fleetGoes drifting up the sky. Secure of neither misted coast.Nor ocean undefined.Our brooding sail is like the ghostOf one that served mankind. Who, sad in space, as we uponThis visionary sea.Finds Labor and Allegiance done.And Self begin to be. Louise Imogen Guiney. 344 AT THE ROOF GARDEN. AT THE ROOF GARDEN DRAWN BY RAYMOND M. CROSBY E. E. HALE, JR. 345 THE WARP AND THE WOOF * For who would lose.Though full of pain, this intellectual being.Those thoughts that wander through eternity.To perish rather, swallowed up and lostIn the wide womb of uncreated Night, Devoid of sense and motion ?** IN the early days of Golf in this country I spent aweek with Tristram, who was at that time in theway of becoming a champion. That is to say, hewas winning the club tournaments week after week, eachvictory making more and more sure his ultimate possessionof a large and beautiful cup, of which the only draw-back, as it turned out, was that you could nt drink outof it. That is, when you tried you were apt to be halfdrowned ; in after years we called it the Cataract Cup. While we were waiting for Tristram to win the cup, however, we used to content ourselves with less distin-guished though more useful vessels. We would comehome from a days play at the club and

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