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* * * I LOVE OLD THINGS I love old things: Streets of old cities Crowded with ghosts And banked with oranges, Gay scarfs and shawls That flow like red water. I love old abbeys With high, carved portals And dim, cool corners Where tired hearts pray; I ioin them in the silence And repair my soul. I love old inns Where floors creak eerily And doors blow open On windiess nights. And where heaVy curtains Dance a slow waltz. i love old trees That lift; up their voices High above the grasses. They do‘not sing At the light Wind's bidding: They chant alone to storms. I love old china, Knowing well the flavour Of great, strong men And fair, sweet women Lurks at the rim Of each deep brown bowl. I love old books Frayed from the searching Of truth-hungry fingers: Their warm, soft vellum Leads me up through sormw Like a dear friend's hand. I love old men And old, dear women \Vho keep red cheeks As the snows of winter Keep the round red berry Of the winterâ€"green. (This verse to be chanted) 1 love old things: \Vearherâ€"beaten, worn things, Cracked, broken, torn things, The old sun, the old moon, The old earth's face, Old wine in dim flagons, Old ships and old wagonsâ€" OLD SHIPS AND OLD WAGONS (This line softly) Old coin and old lace, Rare old lace. â€"W’ilson MacDonald. * * * THE ENCHANTED TRAVELLER We travelled empty-handed With hearts all fear above, For we ate the bread of friendship, We drank the wine of love. Through many a wondrous autumn, Through many a magic spring, We hailed the scarlet banners, We heard the blue-bird sing. We looked on life and nature With the eager eyes of youth, And all we asked or cared for Was beauty, joy and truth. We found no other wisdom, § We learned no other way, Than the gladness of the morning, The glory of the day. So all our earthly treasure Shall go with us. my dears, Aboard the Shadow Liner, Across the sea of years. â€"Bliss Carman. it ‘k * \VHEN GRANDMA MAKES THE TEA When shrinking twilight pays to earth Its faltering devoirs And father with the hired man Comes in from doing chores: 'Tis then that Grandma wipes her specs Looks up and says, "Dear me, It's nearly six o'clock again, And time to make the tea." She slowly walks across the floor To reach the pantry shelf, \X’hat she can't trust to other folks She always does herself. \Vhy some folk use a measuring spoon. She fails to understand; To always get the right amount She measures with her hand. She sets the teapot gently down Her ways are never rough She fills the teapot to the brim, There always is enough: And even if some company Should happen in to sup, One needn't be a bit afraid To have a second cup. if you should like the kind of tea That makes you to enthuse. Thar sweeps the cobwebs from your brain And drives away the blues, The kind that reaches to your heart And makes all trouble flee Just come around to our house \Vhen Grandma makes the tea. ~Unknnwn. Ed. Noteâ€"This poem was found in a press Clip- ping which reported the activities of a 4-H Girls“ Homemaking Club at Kinburn in Renfrew County. At the time that it was sent in the snow conditions in that county must have necessitated many cups of "good hot tea." * * i "If God should punish men according to what (he? deserve he would not leave on the back of the earth so much as one beast." iThe Koran * * ~k SUMMER 1911 u