Lighting all the solemn reevah [river],

And the blessings of the poor,

Wafting to the heavenly shoor [shore].


"I do think," said Miss Goss gently,
"that if you tried, my child, you might
manage the rhymes just a little better."


"But if you're born in Michigan," I
protested, "how can you possibly make
'Eva' rhyme with 'never' and 'be-
liever'?"

"Perhaps it is a little hard," Miss
Goss agreed, and still clinging to her
Whittier, she exhumed "The Pump-
kin," which she thought precisely fitted
for our Harvest Home festival. This
was quite another thing from "Eva,"
and I saw that only hours of study
would fix it in my mind. I went to my
home, therefore, with "The Pumpkin"
delicately transcribed in Miss Goss's
running hand, and I tried to get some
comfort from the foreign allusions glit-