19 NOVEMBER 1904, Page 32

Watching the strangers eat their food.

And what we offered her she took In silence, with her quiet look, And when we rose to go, content Without a word of thanks she went.

Another day in sleet and rain I chose the meadow path again, And partly turning chanced to see My little guest-friend watching me With eyes half hidden by her hair, Blowing me kisses, unaware That I had seen, and still she wore The same grave aspect as before.

And some recall for heart's delight

A sunrise, some a snowy heights

And I a little child who stands And gravely kisses both her hands.

HUGH MACNIGHTEN.