The wite of the great botanist beamed at him across. the supper table. "But these," she exclaimed, pointing to the dish of mush:
that had beet' act. before are not all for me, Llewellyn, aire' they?"
"Yes, Mabel," he nodded, "ti gathered them' especially for you with my own hands, 'She beamed upon him gratefully. What a dear, unselfish old husband he wast In' five minutes she had demolished the of.
At breakfast the next morning ho greeted. her anxiously. "Sleep presse z 2 "Not ick at all—-no- pains?" by
"Why, of course not, Llewellyn," she. responded, Hurrah, then!" he exclaimed, discovered another spec of mushroom that isn't poisonous,
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.