eye and the ear seemed to sense her anew. There was that in her voice and her presence which hung In the air like a strain of a song which is sung By a singer, and then sings itself the whole day, And will hot be silenced. 

 As birds flock away From meadow to tree branch, now there and now here, So, from beach to Casino, each day at the Pier Flock the gay pleasure seekers. The balconies glow With beauty and color. The belle and the beau Promenade in the sunlight, or sit tete-a-tete, While the chaperons gossip together. Bands play, Glasses clink; and 'neath sheltering lace parasols There are plans made for meeting at drives or at balls. 

As birds flock away

 Roger gat at a table alone, with his glass Of mint julep before him, and watched the crowd pass. There were all sorts of people from all sorts of places. He thought he liked best the fair Baltimore faces. The South was the land of fair women, he mused, Because they were indolent. Women who used Mind or body too freely. Changed curves into angles, For beauty forever with intellect wrangles. The trend of the fair sex to-day must alarm Every lover of feminine beauty and charm. 

 As he mused Roger watched with a keen interest For a sight of his Undine.  "All coiffured and drest, With her wonderful body concealed, and her hair Knotted up, well, I doubt if she seem even fair," He soliloquized.  "Ah!" the word burst from his lips, For he saw her approaching. She walked from the hips With an undulous motion. As graceful and free From all effort as waves swinging in from the sea Were her movements. Her full molded figure seemed slight In its close fitting gown of black cloth; and the white Of her cheek seemed still whiter by contrast. Her clothes Were tasteful and quiet; yet Roger Montrose Knew in some subtle manner he could not express ('Tis an instinct men have in the matters of dress) That they never were made in New York. By her hat One can oft read a woman's whole character. That Which our fair Undine wore was a thing of rich lace, Flowers and ribbons like others one saw in the place. Yet the width of the brim, or the twist of its bows, Or the way it was worn made it different from those. As it drooped o'er the eyes full of mystery there, It seemed, all at once, both a menace and dare; A menace to women, a dare to the men. She bowed as she passed Roger's table; and then Took a chair opposite, spread her shade of red silk, Called a waiter and ordered a cup of hot milk, Which she leisurely sipped. She seemed unaware Of the curious eyes she attracted. Her air Was of one quite at home, and entirely at ease With herself, the sole person she studied 

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