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THE POPULAR SCIENCE MONTHLY.

On his cheek the salt that clings
To the Headland of the Kings,
Flung from the enchanted sea
Of Saint Francis Assisi!
Rover o'er the ocean blue—
What has he to do with you?

Only this: he sailed one day
To your Massachusetts Bay,
And this voyage was his last,
For Love seized and held him fast.
Of that old romance of his
None can tell you more than this;
Saving that, as legacies
To his child, he left his eyes,
Black as the obsidian stone,
With a luster all their own,
Seeing as by magic ken
Deep into the hearts of men.
And mid tides of changing years,
Dreams and hopes and cares and fears,
Life that flows and ebbs alway,
Love has kept them loyally.

Once, it chanced, they came to shine,
Straight into this heart of mine.

Little lady, cease your play
For a moment, if you may;
All I ask is, silently,
Turn your mother's eyes on me!

Consulado Ingles, Calle de las Olas Altas, Mazatlan, Sinaloa,
January 10, 1895.


According to Captain Younghusband, lately assistant English resident at Clritral, a mountain district of India which has just been attracting considerable attention, the principal evil in the mountains outside of his station is the want of desire for money. The mountaineers, secluded from mankind amid their hills, have never used any money, and consequently have no idea of the value of coins. They took the rupees to be ornaments, and were greatly aggrieved when after carrying loads up the hills they were paid only in little bits of silver. But the government wanted work done, and, not being willing to force labor, had to train the people to the use of money, so they brought peddlers up from the plains. Then, when the people found they could get the goods they wanted with their rupees, they were willing to take them.