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A thick mustache covered his lip, but the rest of his face was cleanly shaven, and was strong and decided in its outlines rather than handsome. "They say a woman's work is never done," remarked Ik Stanton, dropping into the easiest chair in the studio, "and for this reason, were there no other, your muse is evidently of the feminine persuasion. I also admit that she is a lady of great antiquity.

This calculation we have made from a rigid scrutiny of the figures in which the author sums up, year after year, his gains. We have been provoked into this comparison by the evident glee with which Ik Marvel parades the results of his agricultural labors.

By the Author of "Reveries of a Bachelor." New York: Charles Scribner. 12mo. When "Ik Marvel" ten years ago turned farmer, a good proportion of the reading public supposed that his experiment would combine the defects of gentleman- and poet-farming, and that he would escape the bankruptcy of Shenstone only by possessing the purse of Astor.

"For some reason that I cannot fathom, Ida does not like this artist; and yet I think myself that she would subject herself to very unpleasant remarks if she made any trouble about sitting at the same table with him." "Can you not see," retorted Ida, irritably, "that Ik has not considered us at all, but only himself?

"Oh, its all arranged, my dear; and a good many others want the seats, but Ik was too prompt." "I'll stay where I am," said Ida, sullenly. "And have every one in the house asking why?" added Stanton, provokingly. "Mr. Van Berg treats you as a gentleman should. Why cannot you act like a lady toward him?

I always thought Ida would take care of herself, but she'll bear watching now. She hasn't been like herself since she came to this place. I must consult Ik at once. Things are bad enough now, heaven knows; but if Ida should do anything disgraceful, I'd have to throw up the game."

"The best I can possibly make, Ik, and she shall look as she did when she called you a true, noble-hearted gentleman." Van Berg now found no difficulty in bringing about a friendship between Ida and Jennie Burton, and the two maidens spent the greater part of Sabbath afternoon together.

"Ida Mayhew can realize all such abstractions," muttered Ik Stanton, as he walked on alone. The reader will be apt to surmise, however, that some resentment, resulting from his former and unrequited sentiment towards the girl, gave an unjust bias to his judgement.

"He is not one that you can flirt with, like the attenuated youth who has just meandered to the barroom." "Why not?" "If you had eyes for anything save your own pretty face, and the public stare, you would have seen that my friend is not a 'creature, but a man." "Come, Cousin Ik," she replied in more natural tones, "too much of your house is made of glass for you to throw stones.

You remind me of a certain horned beast that has seen a red flag," said Ik Stanton, linking his arm in that of Van Berg's. "An apt illustration. I have been baited and irritated for the last twenty minutes." "I thought you enjoyed Beethoven's music, and surely Thomas rendered it divinely to-night." "That is one of the chief of my grievances.