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The lugubrious voice of Mr Hicks declai reached hi Your Winter-gar! The Bird of Time has but a little way To flutter--and the bird is on the wing"

That was the worst of it, Wallie thought despairingly The Bird of Time had but a little way to flutter He was so old--twenty-seven! The realization that he was still a failure at this advanced age increased histo Helene Spenceley or ever would; but, just the same--Wallie stood up and squared his shoulders--if he couldn't have the woman he wanted there wouldn't be any other! He would sell his place for what he could get for it, pay his debts, and go to Tahiti and be a beach-comber, or to Guatemala and start a revolution, or live a her for a fur coet her

Then, suddenly, he wished that he was a little boy again and could sit on Aunt Mary's lap and lay his head on her shoulder the way he used to when he came home from school with a sick headache It always had comforted him A heartache orse than a headache by a whole lot Somehoas so lonely--so inexpressibly lonely He had not felt like this even that first winter on his homestead

A lump rose in his throat to choke him, and he was about to turn away lest someone see the mist in his eyes that blinded him, and that he felt horribly ashamed of, when the sound of hoofs attracted his attention and caused hirow alert in an instant

He was sure that it was Stott returning, and then he caught a gli

"Oh, here you are!" exclaimed that person, irritably, as he turned off the road and caht shine in Wallie's eyes as he walked toward hi to ca?" Stott de voice as he dismounted

Wallie returned evenly: "You knoell as I do that choosing a caet ahead of the supply-wagon"

"If you think I' behind like a snail, you're mistaken!" Stott retorted

Wallie's face hite under its tan, though his voice was quiet enough as he answered: "You'll 'poke' this afternoon, I'"