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'" "Let me see," cried Jack, snatching the paper, and eagerly perusing the advertisement. ’ She dropped to her knees before her old nurse and hugged the workroughened hand with both her own, looking up into Martha’s face where slow tears were tracing down her cheek. She climbed slowly towards it, keeping close to the hedge side, fragrant with wild roses, and holding her skirts high above the dew-laden grass. This was what he missed. Your face has flitted out of my watch-fire, and then I have been a haunted man. He has nothing to fall back upon, no substitute; but a woman always has the mother love. " "But, Lord, man!—don't you ever get lonesome?" "Don't you?" "I'm too busy.

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