TWO POETS. Two poets lived: their time came and they died. Silenced, they slept their long gleep, Bide by side. In memory of the one with loud acclaim M«n built a temple beautiful, of Fame. "Mid richest oarvings splendidly enscrolled Mis name shone radiant, embossed in gold. And even proclaimed him greutest of muu kiud. The Master-singer and the Master-mind. With lauds and praises did tbe temple quake, liut of the other silenced poet no man spake. Calmly surveying from his heaven's height The temple-builders in their puny might, Enthroned in splendour sate ihe Oversoul: And on eternal tablets did a name enroll Upon the honour-list of heaven's best; In flaming colours it outshone the rest. Hut 10, the letters did not spell the name Of him whom men placed in their hail of Fame. A Voice spake: "Empty Is the name ye quote : This pout lived the poetry the other wrote. —Elizabeth H. Finley. i AUNT MEG'S COLUMN. "Harry, I can sum up your case in three words," said Lancaster. "The fact is—and you cannot deny it — you're in love. "How on earth did you find that out?" he muttered. "Experience and casual observa tion," replied Lancaster, shortly. "By the by, 1 saw Milly Holsworth today." Then, with a grin, "Um, I thought I wasn't far out. She's a nice girl, Harry, and a clever one. Women nowadays who are good looking and can earn their own living are in great demand in the matrimonial market, so I'm told, and I can quite believe it." "Yes," groaned Ellington, "but when a man has only a paltry twelve hun dred and fifty a year the idea of —er— «2r —even proposing to a lady who can buy him up might give rise to un pleasant comments —h'm!" "Personally, I should try my luck. "Faint heart,' etc., you know. You never know what may transpire. Say you decide to see how absence might affect the case and to wait until your return from England. She might be snapped up in the meantime. Per haps the steamer might founder, and --and—" "Don't Lancaster, don't!" shuddered Ellington. "Your advice, old chap, I tear has not advanced the improve ment of the outlook at all." "Then the only course that remains open for you is to consult Aunt Meg," sighed Lancaster. "Aunt Meg! Who is she? And what's she got to do with it?" "Aunt Meg is a lady connected with a popular publication entitled "The Daisy," whose official duty it is to re ceive and reply to, through the col umns of the aforesaid journal, all questions that may be submitted to her notice on the all Important theme of love and its attendant trials, mis understandings and vagaries in gen eral." "Consult Aunt Meg!" the words seemed to ring in Ellington's ears for some time after the departure of his friend Lancaster. "A precious fool I'd be thought," he anused, "supposing I was idiot enough to trust my private affairs to the tender mercies of a modern lady Journalist, if the story leaked out. Certainly one might write under a uoni de plume or initials, but then I don't believe in such rot." Half an hour's meditation, however, served to put matters before him in a different light. He reflected that the journal in question bore a very high character, and he resolved to try Aunt Meg. After due destruction of various sheets of note paper, his communica tion was at last fairly neatly trans cribed and ran as follows: ""To 'Aunt Meg,' Daisy Office, 420 Fleet street, E. C.: "Madam—l trust you may be able to successfully advise me as to my actions in the following matter: To be brief, I am aged 30 and am in receipt of an annual income of twelve hundred iind fifty dollars as private secretary to a titled gentleman, who is about to depart on a voyage of infinite duration in three weeks' time for his health's sake, and I am to accompany him. A month ago I made the acquaintance of a charming lady about my own age, and we have met at various intervals ever since. "As you will already have surmised, I r.'m deeply in love with her, though I sia.ve not as yet declared my passion. As far as I am aware, from the state ment of a friend, she is in receipt of an income exceeding mine by two hun dred and fifty dollars per annum, de rived from her employment, the ex act nature of which, however, owing to the shortness of our acquaintance, I am unfortunately in ignorance beyond that it is something in a city office. "I have every reason to believe that xny attentions, such as they have been, are not altogether distasteful. What would you advise me to do? Ask her nc.v and risk a slender income, or wait until I am in more affluent cir- T.'Uznstances, which chance is slightly '•emote at the present outlook? ? H. A. E." Two Saturdays passed and left him in the deepest depths of despair, ow ing to the nonappearance of a reply ing his communication. Jn the meantime he met Mildred Holsworth on two occasions at the house of a mutual acquaintance and once was almost on the verge of a declaration, but checked himself in time to save making himself an arrant ass, as he termed it. It was with feverish excitement that he opened the last issue of the Daisy published before he left England. Eagerly he scanned the page sacred'.y set apart for the benefit of "Aunt Meg" and her amorous amblings. Yes, it was there at last! "H. A. E.: —Waste no time, but go and ask her at once. If I judge rightly from the tone of your letter, you need scarcely have any apprehen sion as to the nature of her reply. As to monetary matters, a girl who can not oomfortahly manage and be happy on the united income doesn't deserve a husband at all." It was all over. The last slipper had sped its course in the air and dis appeared through the window of the compartments which had the honor of accommodating the happy couple, and the last handful of rice lay whitening the platform like a miniature fall of snow. "I'm so glad it's all over at last," sighed Mildred Ellington as she threw herself wearily back among the cush ions. "But the whole affair was a complete success and went off without a flaw." "Yes, darling, quite complete, except for the absence from the ceremony of one to whom I owe a great deal of my present happiness—in fact one of your sister strugglers in the field of liter ature. Milly, 'l've a confession to make. I know you'll think I'm an awful fool, and perhaps be angry, but promise me, Milly, beforehand, that you will forgive me." "I'd promise you anything, Harry. It —it can't be anything dreadful, I'm sure," falteringly. "Then read that and put me out of my misery." And taking from his inside breast pocket a copy of the Daisy containing Aunt Meg's advice, which he had so successfully acted upon, he opened it at the fatal page and handed it to her. "Harry," she said quietly, pushing it, away, her eyes filling with tears the while, "I —I know what you mean now. She —she was there, and —and you saw her." "I saw her her, Milly?" ejaculated Ellington, utterly taken aback by her answer. "Yes, Harry, and you see her now! I —l was Aunt Meg at the time, and knowing whom your question con cerned replied accordingly. I, too, meant to confess all today, and you have made it easier for me to do so. Kiss me, Harry, and say you forgive me." —Waverly Magazine. QUEER ARE WCMEN. That I*. Some of Thi m Are, Says a Cyu leal Masculine Observer. "Women are critically curious creat ures," said a cynical citizen, "and the wonder to me is that they ever make a wise selection in marriage. I do not mean to say anything unkind,. for no man has a deeper or more profound regard for women than I have, and I admire Drummond chiefly because he said that woman represents evolu tion's, Go