Today's Stichomancy for Mahmoud Ahmadinejad

hours out of the twenty-four you ought to have burrowed outside the gates in about five years."

Jill shuddered. " Austria would be rather nice, just now, wouldn't it?" she ventured.

"We could go high up if it got hot, of course," said Daphne slowly, "and the air's nice- "

I'll find out what we do about shipping the car on Friday," said Berry.

I must have been tired, for I never heard the tea-things taken away. When I opened my eyes, Berry and Co. had gone. I looked at the jig-saw and began to wonder what had waked me.

The Brother of Daphne

indications of his dress, so in England this identification was as little as possible a matter of course, thanks to the greater conformity, the habit of sinking the profession instead of advertising it, the general diffusion of the air of the gentleman - the gentleman committed to no particular set of ideas. More than once, on returning to his own country, he had said to himself about people met in society: "One sees them in this place and that, and one even talks with them; but to find out what they DO one would really have to be a detective." In respect to several individuals whose work he was the opposite of "drawn to" - perhaps he was wrong - he found himself adding "No wonder they conceal it - when it's so

anything," Ann Eliza said.

Evelina obeyed, and a slight spark of colour came into her cheeks. She turned to the custard pie and began to eat with a silent voracity distressing to watch. She did not even look to see what was left for Ann Eliza.

"I ain't hungry," she said at last as she laid down her fork. "I'm only so dead tired--that's the trouble."

"then you'd better get right into bed. Here's my old plaid dressing-gown--you remember it, don't you?" Ann Eliza laughed, recalling Evelina's ironies on the subject of the antiquated garment. With trembling fingers she began to undo her sister's

nearly time hay-harvest should begin, and instead of that the meadows were likely to be flooded.

But people who have pleasant homes get indoor enjoyments that they would never think of but for the rain. If it had not been a wet morning, Mr. Irwine would not have been in the dining-room playing at chess with his mother, and he loves both his mother and chess quite well enough to pass some cloudy hours very easily by their help. Let me take you into that dining-room and show you the Rev. Adolphus Irwine, Rector of Broxton, Vicar of Hayslope, and Vicar of Blythe, a pluralist at whom the severest Church reformer would have found it difficult to look sour. We will enter very softly

Adam Bede