"I am better now," he gasped, and Piet let him rise. They stood up together and gazed seaward. A squall was blowing in from the east, thick and black, with a gleam of white water under it. Was it a sail they saw, a ship that heeled to the brisk wind and was screened from sight by the rain? They crawled back under the wagon as the first wetness lit on their faces, and sat there together. "If you tell me you saw a ship," said Piet suddenly, "I will call you a liar." "Yes," said Klein Piet. "I must be a liar, for I saw one." When Oom Piet finished this tale, he was wont to knock out his pipe on the heel of his boot. "But in the morning, when we went back to our work," he always added, "there was the chain--cut through!" A FOOTPATH MORALITY BY LOUISE IMOGEN GUINEY Along the Hills, height after height Tosses the dappled light; Waters unhindered flow; The cuckoo calls beyond the third hedgerow; And young winds nothing can quell Scale the wild-chestnut citadel, Again to make Its thousand faery white pagodas shake. Up many a lane, The blue vervain A coverlid hath featly spread For the bees' bed, That those tired sylvan thieves May lie most soft on the sweet and scalloped leaves. To-morrow morn, Bright agrimony in the thickets born Will high uphold Each cinquefoil of plain gold; Dogwood in white will hood herself apace, And betony flaunt a varied gypsy mace, And copper pimpernel, true as a clock, On the waste common by some rock Her lone dark-centred wheel draw in Long, long ere dusk begin. This day Of infinite May Is far more fitly yours than ours, O spirit-bodied flowers! What heart disordered sore Comes through the greenwood door, Shall for your sake Find sap and soil and dew, and shall not break: And hearts beneath no ban Will in your sight some penance do for man, Poor lagging man, content to be Sick with the impact of eternity, Who might keep step with you in the low grass, Best part of one strange pageant made in joy to pass! Not ye, not ye, the privilege disown To flourish fair, and fall fair, and be strewn Deep in that Will of God, where blend The origin of beauty and the end. TAFT AND LABOR BY GEORGE W. ALGER A labor record considered solely in its utilitarian aspect as a vote-getting device is not especially important to the general public. The attitude of a presidential candidate, however, towards the industrial and social problems of the working people is another matter. Does he know what they are? Does he see the great economic questions of labor and capital with eyes blinded by class prejudice or does he see them with the clear vision of a statesman? Does he intend to play a man's part in helping to solve them? The answer to these inquiries is of interest not merely to the capitalists and the workers but to all of us.