anyway.--Now, Carrie."

"Mine is very poor indeed, Judge Keane," said Carrie, as she passed
up her slip. "Like yours it is my first attempt."

"The beauty of the hills,
So calm, so free, so bright,
Can dim my eyes with tears,
And fill me with delight."

"Very good" was the verdict; and then Miss Keane reluctantly gave up
her paper.

"How still it is! No rude discord
Falls on the ear;
We feel all earthly thoughts and aims
Must vanish here."

That also was pronounced "very good," and Judge Keane feared he
should have some difficulty in adjudicating the prize. Mr. George
Keane's was the next.

"I never wrote a poem, but since
You will not be refused,
I do declare I don't know how,
And beg to be excused."

"You have no chance anyway, George," said his father, laughing with
the rest. "It has not the remotest reference to the subject in
hand.--Well, Lucy."