The herald., 1898-03-06

tion incarnate-that his mind is very vag
abondish. So she would sing, lest he might
become weary of that vital undertaking.:
20. where are my babies?
o, where are my babies?
The winds that hang on the vines
Tell me where my babies are"
Suppose we have a little recess" put in
Mrs. Saru, as the twilight began to dream
abroad.
mo" said her husband, "the business is
too urgent" A few minutes later the ami
able, the most progressive pair of monkeys
rolled on the ground from sheer exhaustion
and had glorious dreams.
How lovely!' said Mrs. Saru the next
morning, loud enough to wake up her hus-
band, and contemplated him through her
narrowly closed eyelids-which is the mask
a soul in ecstatic admiration takes. The
sun was quite up when MIR. Saru heard his
wife and woke. and fell vacantly perusing
his fond wife. He felt stiff and sore. "If
am lovely, the rubbing and bruising of yes
terday must have left an entirely different
print on me from what they did on you, my
poor wife," thought he. He did not tell his
wife so. He showed his good breeding. He
knew that 1t is uncouth to speak anything
detrimental about the looks of women
folks.
All the day they worked hard. They
were rather extravagant in the matter of
1t was of downright necessity. They be-
came coated with blood and had to jump
into pond. The next day came. And they
were awfully stiff. But Mr.. Saru was
ashamed to say so to his wife, for she
lauded him to the skies for his supple
graces. The work went on. Screaming,
squeakng, shaffling, shambling along, till
they fell fainting at even-tide. The autumn
had set in in earnest. The heavy frost
glorifed the withering earth. And noun
tains of tinted leaves said to the sun
every morning: Don't we look like big
cocoanut cakes? Come and taste!"
A woman went out to gather her faggot
one morning She came home-but without
any faggot on her back. But with very
heavy burden on her heart. And fell
across the threshold of her hut almost as
soon as her shadow did.
whats the matter o, Nabe?" asked
her husband as he picked her up. She was
as cold as frost. She shook and her eyes
were rolling and aflame, ready to shoot
out like a Roman candle. He put her to
bed. Now, there was a superstition at
that time among the hunters that man
or woman who saw dead monkey at
any time, but especially in the morning
starting out to work, shall die with the
death of the very same day.
The hunter went out to see what might
have happened to his wife. Knowing
thoroughly well Where MS W11e hunts Tor
her faggot, he climbed over ledge. He
said "Ah, l see!'
The two bloody, naked monkeys, Mr..
Saru and his wife-cold, stiff, grim, with
the diamond fringe of frost on their eye
lashes and whiskers! They were immod-
estly naked. The sight was 50 completely
out of harmony with the serene beauty of
the autumnal morning that it shocked the
sense of propriety even in the heart of the
weather-beaten and sun-hardened noun
taineer.
There they were. the most aspiring mon
keys that ever lived Them the hunter
flung into the chasm below. Hollow
sounds chasing down the deep, ghost
fashion The mountaineer was sad at
heart. For he knew that the star of his
love would flicker out at the setting of the
sun that day. His wife, being pious wo-
man, believed with all her heart the doom
that superstition put upon her.
And the pity and the outrage of the
whole business is that since the day of
Mr. Saru and Mrs. Saru, Mr.. Hito, the
human, is studiously initiating their bril-
liant example.