"I don't have to answer questions, because I'm the Judge," Nan told him. "I'll ask you one more. Do you want me to ask you to take this cottage, for us, in the fall, and stay in it until Aunt Susan comes back?" "Not unless Your Honor pleases." "Case dismissed, for lack of evidence," said Nan.--"Burt, could we live here?" "We could. I'll admit it's what I'd like, if you do. The difference in rents would buy gasoline. Could you work here, and keep house, too?" "I can if I'm smart," answered Nan, soberly. "I wonder if I'm smart." "Dear," said Burt. "What have you done since you came to New York but work and keep house, too, in less convenient quarters than this, and with no one to help you--no good husband like me--?" "That's so!" she turned a radiant face upon him. "If we like, we can begin another home, of our very own, when Aunt Susan wants hers back," Burt smiled quizzically. "No one else's house would suit you for always, Nan. Ask me why." "Why?" "Because," said Burt in triumph, "personality, like the measles, will out!" AMERICAN COOKERY FORMERLY THE BOSTON COOKING-SCHOOL MAGAZINE OF Culinary Science and Domestic Economics SUBSCRIPTION $1.50 PER YEAR, SINGLE COPIES 15C POSTAGE TO FOREIGN COUNTRIES, 40C PER YEAR TO SUBSCRIBERS The date stamped on the wrapper is the date on which your subscription expires; it is, also, an acknowledgment that a subscription, or a renewal of the same, has been received. Please renew on receipt of the colored blank enclosed for this purpose. In sending notice to renew a subscription or change of address, please give the _old_ address as well as the _new_. In referring to an original entry, we must know the name as it was formerly given, together with the Post-office, County, State, Post-office Box, or Street Number. ENTERED AT BOSTON POST-OFFICE AS SECOND-CLASS MATTER LOVE'S DAY When the morning on the hill crest snuffs the candles of the night, And the wide world blooms in beauty with the coming of the light, With the morn awakens, ever sweet and ever new, The happiness of knowing I share the dawn with you. When the morning shadows shorten on the sunny slopes of noon, And the roads of earth are humming with toil's deep, insistent tune, Fragrant as a sea wind, blowing from an island blue, Through moiling hours of toiling comes my memory of you. When the shadows of the twilight like long lashes dim and gray Close in slumber softly o'er the weary eyes of day, Calling through the twilight like harbor lights from sea, Your love becomes a beacon that shines with cheer for me! _Arthur Wallace Peach._ LIMITATION OF ARMAMENTS