phenomena, and the labours of Hercules prove to be a dozen weather
bulletins.
"Is it any cause for wonder, that under this cheerless influence our
poetry is either silent or unsold? The true poet must be ignorant, for
information is the thief of rhyme. And it is only in dealing with--"
Kennaston paused. Margaret had appeared in the vestibule, and behind
her stood her father, looking very grave.
"We have made a most interesting discovery," Miss Hugonin airily
announced to the world at large. "It appears that Uncle Fred left all
his property to Mr. Woods here. We found the will only last night. I'm