Looking Towards the West

JIM'S TEST 29 the silk tie on Mae's khaki middy. She was riding toward him ahead of the sheep-wagon. Soon he heard her clear, happy call of greeting and saw her hand fluttering above her broad brim- med hat. With mingled emotions which made him wretchedly miserable, he galloped to meet her. "Oh, isn't it wonderful! I'd like to stay always and al- ways out here," she exclaimed, giving her arms a wide sweep. "And Dad says I can stay as long as I can coax Aunt Sarah to stay with me. You'll be awfully nice to her, and get needles for a pine pillow so she can sleep well, and everything, won't you?" Not until then did she notice anything wrong in his countenance. "Why, Jim, what's the matter? You look as glum as a judge, and I thought you'd be tickled to death to see me. I don't believe you've said a word." "You haven't given me a chance." He tried to laugh lightly. "I am tickled to death to see you — but I've got to hurry back and see your father a minute now. You ride on and I'll catch you." He didn't want Mae present at the coming interview, if he could possibly prevent it. (To be continued) Looking Towards the West They are looking toward the West With its majesty of mountains, Hoary heights that silent stand Like those prophets who of old, Hearkened to their Lord's command. They are looking toward the West, As a watchful, marooned seaman, Sighting an approaching sail, Shadeth with his hand his eyes, Lest his vision dim or fail. They are, looking toward the West, With its broad and benign bosom, Pulsing rapidly and rife With each new and daring emprise, Reboant with virile life. They are looking toward the West With its promises of treasure, Unmined wealth of countless worth, Fields that Cere's hands have blessed With affluence of the earth. They are looking toward the West Where man, forth to man as brother, Eager, heplful hands has held, With a fervent strength of purpose, Bands beneficient to weld. Grace Ingles Frost