"Aw me lad, h'and where did your father get 'is blooming costume?" he asked.
"Mother supplied it, good sir," I answered.
"Hi say, me lad," he laughed, "your mother h'is a grand lydie, you tike me word for h'it; h'in h'England they would decorate that suit with the h'order h'of the garter!"
"Honi soit, qui mal y pense!" I lisped.
A MAID OF YAVAPAI.
To S. M. H.
(AN IDYLLIC SKETCH.)
People from every land sojourn in Arizona.
From the Atlantic's sandy coasts, the icy shores of crystal lakes, from turbid miasmatic swamps—east, north and south, they come.
Over mountain, canyon and gulch they roam, prospecting nature's grandest wonders.