Ainslee's Magazine, February 1913 — page 131: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE CLOWN AND For a second’s flight the clergyman hesitated. Then he said evenly: “Yes, Horace, I have had my chance. It is you. She—she confessed it.” The clown gripped the clergyman’s hand with both his own, and, without a word, left the room, and went swiftly down the stairs. THE CLERGYMAN 121 The clergyman blew out the light, and crossed to the open window. He stood there a while, his eyes uplifted to the soft summer stars. When he turned away the look of pain on his face was gone. A great peace had de- scended on him, and he walked in its close embrace. CONTENTMENT Miest foreign lands, on errant feet, ‘Tis mine at will to roam— But his, the old familiar street And shining lights of home. I’ve met full many a potentate In kingdoms far and wild— But his, to see at door or gate His smiling wife and child! Strange peoples have I moved among, Who in strarige language spoke— But his, to know the face and tongue Of kindly neighbor folk! Adventures mine, neath every sun, And all the pride thereof— But his, each day’s work nobly done, And eves of peace and love! The wanderer feeds on sweet unrest, His sails are never furled— But, oh, to be that one, thrice blest, Who makes of home his world! Epwin L. SABIN. “co IOoOKkK (E@)