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Mrs Atwater murmured absently, but forbore to press her inquiry; and Florence was silent, in a brooding mood The journalists upon the fence had disappeared fro her conversation with her hed, and quietly left the room She went to her own apartment, where, at a small and rather battered little white desk, after a period of earnest reverie, she took up a pen, wet the point in purple ink, and without great effort or any critical delayings, produced a poereater nuly inspirational that the source of its inspiration ht easily become manifest to a cold-blooded reader Nevertheless, to the poetess herself, as she explained later in good faith, the words just seeenius or some form of nized by inspired writers theo been party to a musical Sunday afternoon at her Great-Uncle Joseph's house, where Mr Clairdyce sang soun to coagulate within her then

THE ORGANEST BY FLORENCE ATWATER

The organest was seated at his organ in a church,

In some beautiful woods of maple and birch,

He was very weary while he played upon the keys,

But he was a great organest and always played with ease,

When the soul is weary,

And the wind is dreary,

I would like to be an organest seated all day at the organ,

Whether an,

I would play music like a vast amen,

The way it sounds in a church of ht ti evidence that repetition failed to denature this work, but on the contrary, enhanced an appreciative surprise at its singular merit Finally she folded the sheet of paper with a delicate carefulness unusual to her, and placed it in her skirt pocket; then she went downstairs and out into the back yard Her next action was straightforward and anything but prudish; she clih wooden fences, one after the other, until she came to a pause at the top of that whereon the two journalists had lately made themselves so odiously impressive

Before her, if she had but taken note of thes of a profound transition in human evolution Beside the old frae, obviously put to the daily use intended by its designer Quite as obviously the stable was obsolete; anybody would have known from its outside that there was no horse within it There, visible, was the end of the pastoral age