fully spread; bow twice to audience. Time: Three measures, one for the first position, and one for each bow.

26. Piquancy.-Fan fully spread, held sideways between the face and the audience, so that one end is down, the other up. Time of poise: Two measures. Now move to the right, glancing over fan, one-half measure of music; move the fan to the left one-half measure, move to the right one-half measure, to the left one-half measure. Time for entire figure: Four meas

ures.

27. Arrogance.-Fan fully spread, placed directly back of the head, one tip resting on the upper back, the other above the head; left hand on hip. Time: Two measures.

28. Under Left Arm.-This figure has been described under Figure 9.

Repeat Figures 27 and 28.

29. Circles.-Described under Figure 17.

30. Examination.-Right arm extended at the side, fan fully spread; retain a slight curve at the elbow; examine critically. Time: Two measures.

31. Coquetry.-Described under Figure 18.

Repeat Figures 30 and 31.

32. Steps.-Described under Figure 19.

33. Dance. The same as Figure 20.

34. Courtesy.-Courtesy low to audience, raising fan obliquely to the right of the head-line; repeat; after rising from this obeisance, keep the fan up in its position to the right of the head, so as to have in readiness for the next figure. Time for both courtesies: Two measures.

35. Descending Curves.-Drop the fan slowly from its raised position, sweeping around to the left head-line; sweep back; repeat this motion four times; the figure is diagramed thus, U. Time: Two measures.

36. Waiting.-Fan on the right side of head, so as to shade the eyes; bend the torso obliquely to the right, looking out from under the fan. Time: Two measures.

37. Examination.-The same as Figure 30.

Repeat Figures 36 and 37.

38. Listening.-Bring the fan slightly toward the torso after the last figure; raise the left hand to the ear in an attitude of listening, bending the head and the torso to the left, slightly forward. Time: Two measures.

39. Waiting.-Described under Figure 36. Repeat Figures 38 and 39.

40. Looking Backward.-Extend right arm backward, holding the fan well out; look at it attentively. Time: Two

measures.

41. Astonishment.-Bring the fan forward, both hands raised, right holding fan, the left hand vertical. Time: One

measure.

42. Supine.-Lower both hands, right holding the fan, the left supine, looking down. Time: One measure.

43. Supplication.-Drop on left knee, facing the audience, the hands and eyes raised in supplication. Time: Three meas

ures.

44. Circles. Already described. Be careful that the pupils rise easily, beginning the circles immediately. Time: Four

measures.

45. Playful.-Advance the right foot and arm obliquely to the right, holding the fan on a line with the head, the left hand on the hip; bend the torso. Time: Two measures.

46. Bashful.-Right foot in the same position; turn the face away to the left, concealing with the fan. Time: Two

measures.

Repeat Figures 45 and 46.

47. Repellent.-Draw the right foot back to place, face still turned to the left; use the fan on a line with the face, moving with dignity and scorn. Time: Four measures.

48. Gossip.-Partners incline their heads together, holding the fans so as to conceal the faces; buzz a little behind them. Time: Two measures.

49. First Position.—Take the first position of the fan; bow twice to the audience. Time: Three measures.

50. Finale. Place the hands on the hips, the right holding the fan outspread; march off the stage, the front row starting; leave the stage in the form of a figure eight, thus co

This drill does not occupy more than fifteen minutes. The figures are so arranged that the attitudes and motions blend into each other in perfect symmetry and time. The movements should all be taken with a slow, easy grace.

A GENTLEMAN, while in church, intending to scratch his head, in a fit of mental absence reached over into the next pew and scratched the head of an old maid. He discovered his mistake when she sued him for a breach of promise.

S

A LAUGH IN CHURCH.

HE sat on the sliding cushion,

The dear, wee woman of four.
Her feet, in their shiny slippers,
Hung dangling over the floor.

She meant to be good; she had promised,
And so, with her big, brown eyes,
She stared at the meeting-house windows
And counted the crawling flies.

She looked far up at the preacher,
But she thought of the honey-bees
Droning away at the blossoms

That whitened the cherry-trees;
She thought of a broken basket
Where, curled in a dusky heap,
Three sleek, round puppies with fringy ears
Lay snuggled and fast asleep.

Such soft, warm bodies to cuddle,
Such queer little hearts to beat,
Such swift, round tongues to kiss,
Such sprawling, cushiony feet.
She could feel in her clasping fingers
The touch of the satiny skin,
And a cold, wet nose exploring
The dimples under her chin.

Then a sudden ripple of laughter
Ran over the parted lips

So quick that she could not catch it
With her rosy finger-tips.

The people whispered, " Bless the child,"

As each one waked from a nap;

But the dear, wee woman hid her face
For shame in her mother's lap.

THE RACE AT DEVIL'S ELBOW.

JAMES BUCKHAM.

[From the Youth's Companion, by permission of the author and the publishers.]

D

EVIL'S ELBOW was clean gone wild!

Men and women were in the street,
Shouting, crying! And why? A child,

Toddling down with uncertain feet,
Came to the river-bluff, and-"Ho!

See it yon, where the tide runs black?"
(Wee 'white face, like a puff of snow.)
"Quick! a lariat! Now stand back!"
Buckskin Pete made a fling as straight
As an arrow's flight-but it fell too late.
The little tossed hands and golden head
Sank from sight ere the loop had sped.
Hoarse lamenting and weeping sore
Rose from the crowd on the beetling shore.

Swift the current and deep the gorge,
Glooming down to the Devil's Leap.
Knotted muscle from mine or forge,

Vain would battle the current's sweep.
Never a boat, though its stuff were stout,
But the rocks would batter it inside out.
Little hope for the babe, unless-

Tossed and buoyed in the Father's hand,
Stayed, perhaps, by its bit of dress-

Someone rode to the bridge that spanned
The gorge at the Devil's Leap, and stopped
The tiny innocent, ere it dropped

Into the roaring gulf of surge,
Over the cataract's awful verge!

Who should do it, must do it soon!
Every man to his saddle sprang.

Off they went like a jangling tune

The hoofs and the spurs and the bridles rang.

Four miles down by the river's crook,
Six miles round by the rocky trail.
Figure it out by guess or by book,

Which of the racers were like to fail?
Horse against current—a ten-mile gait,
We'll say, to the river's seven or eight.
Close enough, when it's life and death-
Not much muscle to spare, or breath!

First and foremost rode Reckless Dan.
No one thought of him, at the start.
No one dreamed that his heart could plan
A rescue-nay, dreamed that he had a heart!
Always first in the fight and brawl,

Always last at the dance or spree,

With a sneer, or a curse, or a blow for all,
Not a friend in the world had he.
None? Not a human friend, indeed;

But ne'er was a closer bond than drew
The heart of the plainsman to his steed
And the heart of the horse to the master, too.

One by one fell the field behind,

Till Dan's gray horse was without a mate.

His long mane flew in his own speed's wind,

And he seemed to know he was matched with fate. Neck and muzzle stretched out in line;

Ears, like arrow-tips, pricking back; Nostrils red as the new-pressed wineSo he galloped along the track.

Not a man of them in the race,

Save Reckless Dan! Will he brave it through?

Think you, his heart has some human grace?

Deep in the core, is it warm and true?

Well, while they doubted, on he flew!

After him floated the choking dust,

Under him glided the narrow trail. Beat the river, he would and must. When did he ever try and fail?