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ACROSS THE WAY.
And Gussie is cunningly stealing The comb from her shining hair.
While dear little yellow-haired Alice, The youngest and pet of them all,Is calling her two little brothers To come out and play in the hall.
The warm lights dropping about them Fall bright on the carpeted floor;The sunset is flinging a pathway Of quivering gold through the door.
The soft summer breezes are stirring The oak leaves over the gate,Like the beating of passionate pulses When loving hearts listen and wait.
The latch of the gateway is turning, A footstep is heard on the stair,A shadow falls into the door-way; The little ones welcome him there.
And she who is queen of his kingdom, The sweet mother-bird of his nest,
