“Den dey made de law dat nobuddy could git er drink ’ceptin’ ef dey wuz sick an’ had de doctah’s subscription feh teh git it by. W’en dat ole Pomp got er clear ondehstan’in’ uv dat ’ar law he des hump hisse’f! De niggah wuck so hahd an’ step er-roun’ so pyeart, an’ look so ’ligious-minded dat I got mighty holped up erbout him. But, _umph-umph_, honey, dat ole niggah, he sho’ sly! W’en Sat’d’y night come he ties er hank’cheh ’roun’ his ole jaws an’ gits him er stick an’ limps up teh de drug sto’. W’en de doctah notice him he say, ‘O-o-oh, Lawdy-Lawdy,’ lak he mos’ daid. An’ de doctah ax him, ‘Whut’s de mattah wid you, Uncle Pomp?’ An’ dat weekid ole Christyun niggah, whut’s es strong es er natch’l bawn oxen, he ’lowed, ‘O-o-oh, Lawdy, doctah, I feels pow’ful bad, thank Gawd!’ ‘Whut seem teh huht you now?’ sez de doctah, an’ ole Pomp ’spon’s back teh him, ‘Well, suh, I don’t perzac’ly know des whut it is. I got er miz’ry in de off side, an’ I’se afeerd I’se busted de rim outeh mah stomach. I knows I got a achin’ in de pit uv mah back, an’ mah livah’s all gummed up! An’ dis laig—o-o-_oh_—hit seem lak hit ain’t hung right er sump’n—hit ain’t _plum_, somehow. So I thought I’d ax you ef you’d be so onscruperlous, suh, as teh gib me er subscription teh git a drap uv whisky teh rub on intun’ly, suh, on dese stiff ole j’ints uv mine, ef you please, suh.’ “So dat ole backslidin’ niggah, he wuck on de doctah’s symphonies tell de doctah gib him de subscription, an’ he gib de doctah fo’ bits. An’ on top uv dat he hatter gib er dollar an’ er quawteh fo’ de vehy same kin’ an’ same remount uv whisky dat he git frum de bar-room feh fo’ bits befo’! Lawzy, chillun, hit wuz des lak I bin er-tellin’ you! An’ evah week hit wuz de same prefawmunts tell hit set me teh studyin’. An’ I done ’pintedly come to dis ’clusion, dat ef er man is _got_ teh hab whisky—des natch’ly boun’ an’ ’bleedged feh teh hab it, hit don’t mek much diff’unce whedder it come frum de bar-room er frum de drug sto’. An’ ef dey calls de bar-room de ‘wet’ an’ de drug sto’ de ‘dry,’ den de mos’ diff’unce is ’twixt an’ ’tween er dollah an’ six bits—countin’ de subscription—an’ fo’ bits. So I tells you dis, honey, w’en it comes to bar-rooms an’ drug sto’s hit’s des nip an’ tuck—mos’ly tuck.” [Illustration] [Illustration: MY LOVE] BY LILLIAN WESTER You have been mine, O Love! One fair, sweet day; Last night you left the courts of men And passed my way. I did not ask, O Love! In wish nor prayer, For one so strong, so wholly good, To think me fair. I did but hope, O Love! From humble sphere, To sing one song so true that you Might pause to hear; Might pause, and find, O Love! _That_ path more sweet, When Chance should bring you once again Where strayed my feet. But then you came, O Love!— ’Twas night with me— You smiled and drove the shadows far, And I could see.