This little saying of Mrs. Croly's has come back to me and been of use
many times, and it has often enabled me to understand the benefit of
lopping off dead wood and starting anew.




Contributed to the New York _Tribune_ by S. A. Lattimore


The sad announcement of the death of Mrs. Jane Cunningham Croly
recalls a delightful incident of several summers ago when I had the
pleasure of meeting her at Long Branch.

In the course of a most interesting conversation I ventured to ask her
to give me the origin of her well-known _nom-de-plume_ of "Jenny
June." In her bright, sympathetic way, which all who knew her can
describe, she said:

"Yes, I will tell you. In my early girlhood I knew a young clergyman
who was in the habit of occasionally visiting our house. One day he
came to bid us good-bye, saying that he was going to a Western city to
reside. As he bid me goodbye he gave me a little book. It was a volume
of B. F. Taylor's poems, called 'January and June.' The little book
opened of itself at a page containing verses entitled 'The Beautiful
River.' An introductory paragraph read thus: 'On such a night, in such
a June, who has not sat side by side with somebody for all the world
like Jenny June? Maybe it was years ago, but it was some time. Maybe
you had quite forgotten it, but you will be the better for