dived into your depths and brought up a horse collar and a hoop-skirt.  Ah! what do we know of the beyond?  We know that death comes, and we return no more to our world of trouble and care—­but where do we go?  Are there lands where no traveler has been?  A chaos—­perhaps where no human foot has trod—­perhaps Bastrop—­perhaps New Jersey!  Who knows?  Where do people go who are in McDade?  Do they go where they have to fare worse?  They cannot go where they have worse fare!

Let us leave the river.  The night grows cold.  We could not pierce the future or pay the toll.  Come, the ice factory is deserted!  No one sees us.  My partner, W. P. Anderson, will never destroy himself.  Why?  His credit is good.  No one will sue a side-partner of mine!

You have heard of a brook murmuring, but you never knew a sewer sighed!  But we digress!  We will no longer pursue a side issue like this.  Au revoir.  I will see you later.

Yours truly,
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE INGOMAR JUNIUS BRUTUS CALLIOPE SIX-HANDED EUCHRE
GROVER CLEVELAND HILL CITY QUARTETTE JOHNSON.

AN EARLY PARABLE

      [In one of his early letters, written from Austin, O.
      Henry wrote a long parable that was evidently to tell his
      correspondent some of the local gossip.  Here it is:]

Once upon a time there was a maiden in a land not far away—­a maiden of much beauty and rare accomplishments.  She was beloved by all on account of her goodness of heart, and her many charms of disposition.  Her father was a great lord, rich and powerful, and a mighty man, and he loved his daughter with exceeding great love, and he cared for her with jealous and loving watchfulness, lest any harm should befall her, or even the least discomfort should mar her happiness and cause any trouble in her smooth and peaceful life.  The cunningest masters were engaged to teach her from her youngest days; she played upon the harpsichord the loveliest and sweetest music; she wrought fancy work in divers strange and wonderful forms that might puzzle all beholders as to what manner of things they might be; she sang; and all listeners hearkened thereunto, as to the voice of an angel; she danced stately minuets with the gay knights as graceful as a queen and as light as the thistledown borne above the clover blossoms by the wind; she could paint upon china, rare and unknown flowers the like unto which man never saw in colors, crimson and blue and yellow, glorious to behold; she conversed in unknown tongues whereof no man knew the meaning and sense; and created wild admiration in all, by the ease and grace with which she did play upon a new and strange instrument of wondrous sound and structure which she called a banjo.