But not so. How arrives it joy lies slain, And why unblooms the best hope ever sown? —Crass casualty obstructs the sun and rain, And dicing Time for gladness casts a moan.... These purblind Doomsters had as readily strown Blisses about my pilgrimage as pain. And again, in “Nature’s Questionings,” we find him conceiving the “field, flock and lonely tree” as asking: “Has some Vast Imbecility, Mighty to build and blend, But impotent to tend, Framed us in jest, and left us now to hazardry? “Or come we of an Automaton Unconscious of our pains.... Or are we live remains Of Godhead dying downwards, brain and eye now gone?” “Or is it that some high Plan Betides, As yet not understood, Of Evil stormed by Good; We the Forlorn Hope over which Achievement strides?” And having no conclusion for his own heart— “No answerer I.... Meanwhile, the winds, and rains, And Earth’s old glooms and pains, Are still the same, and gladdest Life Death Neighbors nigh.” One instinctively compares this with Tennyson’s spirit of noble meditation in “In Memoriam;” and it must be confessed that Hardy suffers by comparison as lacking the essential attributes of Anglo-Saxon courageousness. One regrets the publication of “Wessex Poems,” for it reveals the character of a great writer in an unfortunate and belittling light; to reconstruct one’s impression of his power and personality one feels the need of reopening one of his most delightful books, such as “The Woodlanders,” to breathe its good smells of Mother Earth, and under its domination as an exquisite pastoral production find there, and not in “Wessex Poems,” Thomas Hardy, the poet. —_Edward A. Uffington Valentine._ [Illustration: THE FAMILY WINKTUM AND THEIR FRIENDS.] [Illustration] “That’s a jolly looking spider,” Said the Winktum’s little boy; “If only I can catch him, He will make a splendid toy. I think if I can reach so far, I’ll pop him in this little jar.” [Illustration] The Twirly-fish came out on land To take a promenade, But meeting with the Bubble-boy Grew very much afraid. The Bubble-boy, who lives on land, Had thought to take a swim, But when he saw the Twirly-fish He shook at sight of him. * * * * * [Illustration: GEORGE K. MCGAW AND CO. IMPORTING GROCERS AND WINE MERCHANTS 220 AND 222 N. CHARLES ST. HAVANA AND KEY WEST CIGARS TELEPHONE No. 1821] * * * * * [Illustration: _THE New St. James HOTEL_ _North Charles and Centre Streets, BALTIMORE._ _J. G. ROHR, Manager._] * * * * * [Illustration: _Flim_—_My brother is a doctor, and we just work into each others’ hands._ _Flam_—_Why, are you a druggist?_ _Flim_—_No, undertaker._]