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MOTION PICTURE MAGAZINE any rate, 'twas a terrible thing they had done, these poor inno- cents, and the mother's heart near broke; but she knew she had no time now for grieving. Folks in the village tell me she looked a corpse in her black gown, with the young, yellow- hair and the set, cold face of her, riding to Quimby on the carrier's cart. The day was nigh dead when she reached there, and, as I 'm a true woman, at the steps o' the little church by the sea the four came face to face. The man and woman met as sad ghosts must when their old grieving and quarreling lie too far behind for tears. Silent they stood, madam; but when the girl-bride ran to her mother, joyous in her new happiness, the man gave one great cry and raised his hands above his head as one distraught. "This is—our girl? Oh, God in Heaven, what have we done!" The boy stood looking from one to the other, and the smile on his lips froze till 'twas awfuller than tears. Then he laughed—aye, laughed out, THE SINS OF THE FATHER madam, shrill and high, a cack- ling sound like a laugh gone mad. When the poor girl ran to him, laying a hand on his arm, he shud- dered away from her and turned to the father with a black curse on his lips and mur- der in the poor, wild eyes. But the man's face was stricken beyond human reproaching, and lifted as tho to God Himself for judgment. It was evening, and the sunset was faint on the sea. The son took his father's hand. "Come," he said quietly; "come." The mother and her daughter clung close, awed into silence. I think, madam, they knew it was meant to be that way, and maybe 'twas best after all. The waves came up to meet the old man and the young man, reached out gentle fingers and drew them to rest. You've maybe seen how peaceful-like the sea looks sometimes? Well, I like to think that maybe they found peace there. But Jessalie and her daughter— aye, aye, 'tis a sad tale. Tears in your eyes, lady? You must forgive an old woman for running on so long. Burns' Wish Fulfilled By GLENN E. CURTISS Two lines of Burns have lost their force Thru modern science's striding course: "O wad some power the giftle gie us To see oursels as ithers see us." No more cnn hards like he lament, For now the power has heen sent; Our modern Thespians on the screen Can see themselves as they are seen.