She's learned to sweep, to sew, to bake—
She's quite a helpmate to her mother.
On Saturday she loves to take
The go-cart out with little brother.
At writing now she bids for fame—
Her book a great success is reckoned.
"By Right of Flashing Sword," its name,
A strong romance of James the Second.
THE LOST WORD
BY JOHN PAUL
Seated one day at the typewriter,
I was weary of a's and e's,
And my fingers wandered wildly,
Over the consonant keys.
I know not what I was writing,
With that thing so like a pen;
But I struck one word astounding—
Unknown to the speech of men.
It flooded the sense of my verses,
Like the break of a tinker's dam,
And I felt as one feels when the printer
Of your "infinite calm" makes clam.
It mixed up s's and x's
Like an alphabet coming to strife.
It seemed the discordant echo
Of a row between husband and wife.
It brought a perplexed meaning
Into my perfect piece,
And set the machinery creaking
As though it were scant of grease.