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And as for the duck, I think God must have smiled a bit

Seeing those bright eyes blink on the day He fashioned it.

And He's probably laughing still at the sound that came out of its bill!

FATHER WILLIAM

BY LEWIS CARROLL

"You are old, Father William," the young man said, "And your hair has become very white; And yet you incessantly stand on your headDo you think, at your age, it is right?"

"In my youth," Father William replied to his son,
"I feared it might injure the brain;

But now that I'm perfectly sure I have none,
Why, I do it again and again."

"You are old," said the youth, "as I mentioned before, And have grown most uncommonly fat;

Yet you turned a back-somersault in at the door-
Pray, what is the reason of that?"

"In my youth," said the sage, as he shook his grey locks,

"I kept all my limbs very supple

By the use of this ointment-one shilling the boxAllow me to sell you a couple."

"You are old," said the youth, "and your jaws are too weak

For anything tougher than suet;

Yet you finished the goose, with the bones and the beak

Pray, how did you manage to do it?"

"In my youth," said his father, "I took to the law, And argued each case with my wife;

And the muscular strength which it gave to my jaw, Has lasted the rest of my life."

"You are old," said the youth; "one would hardly suppose

That your eye was as steady as ever;

Yet you balanced an eel on the end of your nose— What made you so awfully clever?"

"I have answered three questions, and that is enough," Said his father. "Don't give yourself airs!

Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff?
Be off, or I'll kick you down stairs!"

R III

MASSAGE FOR A MUSCLE-BOUND SPIRIT

(Poems of Emancipation)

FIRST FIG1

BY EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY

My candle burns at both ends;
It will not last the night;

But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends-
It gives a lovely light!

VAGABONDIA

BY RICHARD HOVEY

Off with the fetters

That chafe and restrain!

Off with the chain!

Here Art and Letters,

Music and Wine,

And Myrtle and Wanda,

The winsome witches,
Blithely combine.

Here are true riches,

Here is Golconda,

Here are the Indies,

Here we are free

Free as the wind is,

Free as the sea,

Free!

1 From a Few Figs from Thistles, published by Harper & Brothers, copyright, 1922, by Edna St. Vincent Millay.

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