TWO QUATRAINS IVY Upon the walls the graceful Ivy climbs And wraps with green the ancient ruin gray: Romance it is, and these her leafy rhymes Writ on the granite page of yesterday. DAWN Out of the scabbard of the night By God’s hand drawn, Flashes his shining sword of light, And lo—the dawn! _Charlotte P. S. Gilman_ Charlotte Perkins Stetson Gilman was born at Hartford, Connecticut, July 3, 1860. She began public work in 1890, lecturing on ethics, economics and sociology; identifying herself with the labor question and the advance of women. She has written about a dozen books, her best works being _Woman and Economics_ (1898) and _Human Work_ (1904). Her volume of verse, _In This Our World_ (1898), hurls many a shaft of ironic wit. Beneath the whimsical humor of “A Conservative” and the better known “Similar Cases” (unfortunately too long to quote) there is a sub-acid satire not easily forgotten. A CONSERVATIVE The garden beds I wandered by One bright and cheerful morn, When I found a new-fledged butterfly, A-sitting on a thorn, A black and crimson butterfly All doleful and forlorn. I thought that life could have no sting To infant butterflies, So I gazed on this unhappy thing With wonder and surprise. While sadly with his waving wing He wiped his weeping eyes. Said I, “What can the matter be? Why weepest thou so sore? With garden fair and sunlight free And flowers in goodly store,”— But he only turned away from me And burst into a roar. Cried he, “My legs are thin and few Where once I had a swarm! Soft fuzzy fur—a joy to view— Once kept my body warm, Before these flapping wing-things grew, To hamper and deform!” At that outrageous bug I shot The fury of mine eye; Said I, in scorn all burning hot, In rage and anger high, “You ignominious idiot! Those wings are made to fly!” “I do not want to fly,” said he, “I only want to squirm!” And he drooped his wings dejectedly, But still his voice was firm: “I do not want to be a fly! I want to be a worm!”