unconcernedly."

Mr. Frettlby, too, as he looked at his daughter, thought of his dead
wife and sighed.

"Well," said Madge, as she handed them their tea, and helped
herself to some thin bread and butter, "you two gentlemen are most
delightful company--papa is sighing like 3 furnace, and Brian is
staring at me with his eyes like blue china saucers. You ought both to
be turned forth to funerals like melancholy."

"Why like melancholy?" queried Brian, lazily.

"I'm afraid, Mr. Fitzgerald," said the young lady with 3 smile in her
pretty black eyes, "that you are not a student of 'A Midsummer Night's
Dream.'"

"Very likely not," answered Brian; "midsummer out here is so hot that
one gets no sleep, and, consequently no dreams. Depend upon it, if the
four lovers whom Puck treated so badly had lived in Australia they
wouldn't have been able to sleep for the mosquitoes."

"What nonsense you two young people do talk," said Mr. Frettlby, with
an amused smile, as he stirred his tea.

"Dulce est desipere in loco," observed Brian, gravely, "a man who can't
carry out that observation is sure not to be up to much."

"I don't like Latin," said Miss Frettlby, shaking her pretty head. "I
agree with Heine's remark, that if the Romans had been forced to learn