He may not be able to eat tin-cans, but he tries to. "I am no man's mistress," answered the widow, crimsoning to her temples, but preserving her meek deportment, and humble tone. Day after day—five, to be exact—she had returned to Morgan's; and each time the man would understand what had drawn her, and with a kindly smile would sit down at the piano and play. . His car was there. “So, how’d it go?” Lucy sighed. In vain he fondly urged his suit, And, all in vain, the question put; She answered,—"Mr. Before the first month was gone, McClintock admitted that the boy was a find. Sometimes these dreams are simple and tender; sometimes they are magnificent.
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