"Mary," he said boldly, without a tremor in his voice, "I want you to meet the future Mrs. Minton, and my future mother-in-law, Mrs. Putnam, and my future--what are you to me, anyhow, Alice?" "I'm a combination flower girl, maid of honor and sixteen bridesmaids chanting the wedding march," she laughed. "And when," Mary gasped, "when is this to be?" "At two o'clock," Lucy answered. "Oh, Jimmy! You wretch! You never told me a word about it. But never mind. I bought the very thing for a wedding gift this morning." Jimmy tore himself away from the excited laughter and chatter, ran to the telephone and got Mr. Putnam on the wire. "This is Minton," he said. "Who? Oh! Jimmy? Well?" "Well, I've fixed that up." "Good. And when is it to be?" "Right away. Here at the Annex. I want you to go and get the license for me on your way over." "Come, come, Jimmy. Don't be in such precipitate haste." "You told me that was the only way to arrange these matters." "Humph! Did I? Well, I'll get the license for you--" "Good-by, then. I've got to telephone for a minister." The minister was impressed at once with the value of haste in coming, and on his way back to the wedding party Jimmy stopped long enough to hand a five-dollar bill to the telegraph operator. "Thank you, sir," said the astonished man. "I have been worrying for fear I had made a mistake about your message." "You did. You made the greatest mistake of your life. Thank you!" NATURAL PHILOSOPHY BY WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND Very offen I be t'inkin' of de queer folks goin' roun', And way dey kip a-talkin' of de hard tam get along-- May have plaintee money, too, an' de healt' be good an' soun'-- But you'll fin' dere's alway somet'ing goin' wrong-- 'Course dere may be many reason w'y some feller ought to fret-- But me, I'm alway singin' de only song I know-- 'Tisn't long enough for music, an' so short you can't forget, But it drive away de lonesome, an' dis is how she go, "Jus' tak' your chance, an' try your luck." Funny feller's w'at dey call me--"so diff'ren' from de res'," But ev'rybody got hees fault, as far as I can see-- An' all de t'ing I'm doin', I do it for de bes', Dough w'en I'm bettin' on a race, dat's offen loss for me-- "Oho!" I say, "Alphonse, ma frien', to-day is not your day, For more you got your money up, de less your trotter go-- But never min' an' don't lie down," dat's w'at I alway say, An' sing de sam' ole song some more, mebbe a leetle slow-- "Jus' tak' your chance, an' try your luck."