heedless of all save my mimic sorrow
and the swing of the purple lines, that
I could not bring myself to modify my
voice, and the passers-by heard my
shrill tones vibrating with:


As for thee, star-eyed Egyptian!
Glorious sorceress of the Nile!
Light the path to Stygian horrors
With the splendour of thy smile.


I wiped dishes to the rhythm of such
phrases as "scarred and veteran le-
gions," and laced my shoes to the music
of "Though no glittering guards sur-
round me."

Confident that no one could fail to
see the beauty of these lines, or the pro-
priety of the identification of myself
with Antony, I called upon my Sunday-
school teacher, Miss Goss, to report. I
never had thought of Miss Goss as a
blithe spirit. She was associated in my
mind with numerous solemn occasions,
and I was surprised to find that on this
day she unexpectedly developed a trait
of breaking into nervous laughter. I