Remember you are thirty-seven and well on in life. Your own loving

MARIA ANASTASIA WIGGINS.

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THE PUMP.

An Old Story with a Modern Application.

Like rifts of sunshine, her tresses
Waved over her shoulders bare,
And she flitted as light o'er the meadows,
As an angel in the air.

"O maid of the country, rest thee
This village pump beside,
And here thou shalt fill thy pitcher,
Like REBECCA, the well beside!"

But a voice from yonder window
Through my shuddering senses ran,
And these were its words: "MARIA-R!
MA-RIA-R! don't-mind-that-man!"

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[Illustration: LUCIFERS LITTLE GAME WITH HIS ROYAL PUPPETS.]

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