Today's Stichomancy for Yoko Ono

purchases by the amount of her allowance. Instead of six hats, caps, or gowns, she resigned herself to one gown each season. She was so much admired in a certain bonnet that she made it do duty for two seasons. So it was in everything.

Not unfrequently her artistic sense led her to sacrifice the requirements of her person to secure some bit of Gothic furniture. By the seventh year she had come so low as to think it convenient to have her morning dresses made at home by the best needlewoman in the neighborhood; and her mother, her husband, and her friends pronounced her charming in these inexpensive costumes which did credit to her taste. Her ideas were imitated! As she had no standard of comparison,

The Muse of the Department

this from time to time with such effect that he seemed to wander through the old years with his hand in the arm of a companion who was, in the most extraordinary manner, his other, his younger self; and to wander, which was more extraordinary yet, round and round a third presence--not wandering she, but stationary, still, whose eyes, turning with his revolution, never ceased to follow him, and whose seat was his point, so to speak, of orientation. Thus in short he settled to live--feeding all on the sense that he once HAD lived, and dependent on it not alone for a support but for an identity.

It sufficed him in its way for months and the year elapsed; it

wild heights of the mountains, or upon the banks of some flowing stream. In this one the pavilion of the poet is on the bank of the river, and we are told that, In his cottage sat the poet Thinking, as the moon went by, That the moonlight on the water, Made the water like the sky." Changing it somewhat he made a cottage of a different kind. This was not made for the picture's sake, but to illustrate a sentence

Baudraye, to whom the porter pointed her out. The little old man took his wife by the arm, saying, in an icy tone:

"So this is you, madame!"

This sudden advent of conjugal authority, before which she felt herself so small, and, above all, these words, almost froze the heart of the unhappy woman caught in the costume of a /debardeur/. To escape Etienne's eye the more effectually, she had chosen a dress he was not likely to detect her in. She took advantage of the mask she still had on to escape without replying, changed her dress, and went up to her mother's rooms, where she found her husband waiting for her. In spite of her assumed dignity, she blushed in the old man's presence.

The Muse of the Department