A very high soprano and a musical tenor duet, sentimental, humoresque: "There, dry your eyes, I sympathize Just as a mother would Give me your hand, I understand, we're off to slumber land Like a father, like a mother, like a sister, like a brother.

In this connection I will only mention Karl Gutzkow's novels describing his own period, or, from an earlier time, Clemens Brentano's fairy tales, Friedrich Hebbel's humoresques, or even the rhetorically emotional historical compositions of Heinrich von Treitschke, found in certain parts of his work.

It was of brown material, at the blunt end a circle of white for the ash and at its centre a brilliant square of scarlet paper for the glow, altogether a charming feat of simulation, perhaps the most delightful humoresque in all confectionery.

By Thomas Grant Springer "HUMORESQUE."

Humoresque, by Fannie Hurst (Cosmopolitan, March).

But the following held from first place to fifth place on the separate final lists: "La Guiablesse," "England to America," "For They Know not What They Do," "Evening Primroses," "Autumn Crocuses," "Humoresque," "The Red Mark," "They Grind Exceeding Small," "On Strike," "The Elephant Remembers," "Contact," and "Five Thousand Dollars Reward.

Now that fiction containing anything of the Great Struggle is anathema to editors, and must wait for that indefinite time of its revival, it was like getting a last bargain to read "Facing It," "Humoresque," "Contact," "Autumn Crocuses," and "England to America."

Now that fiction containing anything of the Great Struggle is anathema to editors, and must wait for that indefinite time of its revival, it was like getting a last bargain to read "Facing It," "Humoresque," "Contact," "Autumn Crocuses," and "England to America."

Leon Kantor of "Humoresque" and the young Virginian of "England to America" will bring back, to all who read, their own heroes.

"HUMORESQUE" By FANNIE HURST From Cosmopolitan On either side of the Bowery, which cuts through like a drain to catch its sewage, Every Man's Land, a reeking march of humanity and humidity, steams with the excrement of seventeen languages, flung in patois from tenement windows, fire-escapes, curbs, stoops, and cellars whose walls are terrible and spongy with fungi.

I shall never forget how you played the 'Humoresque.'

And even as they stood, hatted and coated, importuning and pressing in upon him, and with a wisp of a smile to the fourth left box, Leon Kantor played them the "Humoresque" of Dvorak, skedaddling, plucking, quirkingthat laugh on life with a tear behind it.

" "'Humoresque'?" he said, with a quick glance for Miss Berg.

"'Humoresque,'" she said, smiling back at him.