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§'.’**»;A. SYL BRD. m A miserable corn field, green here and there with a. weedy foot-high sprout, climb- ed item the muddy river on a smart slope. The-stream had a June swell afloatâ€"just enough to carry the little steamer over the shoals three miles up, at the foot of the big town on the point. Behind the straggling crest of the poor corn field the 'liouses of Burke’s Jumps lifted a few peaks, a chimney or two squar- ing themselves on the milky sky just where Wiltsee could catch sight of them when he watched the smoke of the nearing boat un- bosom itself in the northwest. \Viltsee was standing half-way down the slope. Below him at the landing, which cocaisted of two logs and a vagrant railway 'tie lossed from the bosom above, a group of five or Six men awaited the boat. They ex- changed cumbersome jokes as they pocket- ed their hands and sheathed theirbrogans in the red clay. ,. . An elderly man in a brown blouse jerked his thumb in Wiltsee’s direction “ He’s right there, Wiltsee is. He knows who‘s on that boatâ€"heii '! Better watch out, Green. What with his singin’ and varsify- in’, he’s got a trick with the girls. VViltsee hez.” He chuckled as he added : “ I reckon Hogan’s girl and young \Vidder Hays and the rest 0’ ’em’ll git the go-by now’t Nonie Boman’s come home. Look a- yender, That’s her a-leaning over the boat rail. Better straighten up, Green. You’re as big a man as Wiltseeâ€"heh 2” The young man at his elbow essayed a mild laugh. It seemed, however, to fall rather flat, and he chewed at his stubby brown mustache, an anxious twist between his sober blue ' eyes. “ Hey, Green ?” insisted the old man, following up his word of advice and com- mendation with a poke of the elbow. Governor Green cast a glance back. V’Viltsee stood tail on the hillside, his long richly pale face set up river, the eyes dashed over with black arches, the slender nose dipping towards a thread of mustache which grew in the shape of a bow slightly diSjomted. His slimness, the brooding abstraction of his hands, gave him a poetic air. He wore faded blue trousers, the pockets disclosed, as threadbare sections. His starchless shirt bulged over the leather thong at the waist. He was romantically good-looking, but neither ths fact nor the circumstan seas of his attire seemed to engage his consciousness. The whole speculation of his dark glance was for the nearing boat. 'Green turned suddenly about, his heel digging into the slippery soil. Below him the throng had sauntered closer to the rivet- edge. _A man was Obligingly kicking the landing into place, thereby dislodging a frog, which had been squatting on an end of the tie in a soapy gray lump. Across the river the sun-cleft green bank of the » Cumberland rippled against the south like. a silk banner delicately written with gold. Two negroes were swinging a gang~plank over the steamer’s deck. It emerged from the white bulk, red and insolent, like an out-thrust tongue. There was aishrill sec- ond blast of steam as the prow pushed in- land. A barrel of molasses and one passenger were detailed for Burke’s Jumps. The barrel had right of Way, and came reeling over the plank with a jocular suggestion of thinner potations. Behind it a girl stepped demurely. She was trim-waisted and red- cheeked, her light hair frizzed to a cloud under her flower-laden hat. In her long hazel eyes a certain excited spark flickered. She came near dropping one of the bundles she carried, a bundle wrapped in crimson paper, and indicating thereby a purchase from Saybottom’s store, “ down yender at the P’int.” ' Green sprang forward. “ Beg leave to pack some 0’ your plunder, Miss Nonie,” he said, essaying to mask the nervous tre- mour of his voice in an accent of jest. She laughed with a conscious air, glanc- ing past- him. Wiltsee still stood motion- less above on the slope. His eyes turned their mourniul gloom on the two figures toiling upward. Green stared stolidly down. The girl at his side, panting with the climb, seemed to redden a little more ' pronouncedly. “ Oh l” she said, with a well-turned ac- cent of surprise. “ Is that you, Mr. Wilt- see ? Howdy?” \Viltsee smiled a sad sort of acknowledg- ment, stepping aside. The crowd of six at the landing watched these proceedings, standing arow. “ Blame if I don’t reckon she’s got more’n half an eye for VViltsee,” gossiped one. “ Fool girls ! Jest like ’em to churn the back on to a well-set-up, land-ownin’ feller like Guv’nor Greenâ€"sober, nice man and allâ€"jest to hev a pair of black eyes wallin’ todes ’um.” The man in the blouse demurred. “Shucks ! Nonie hain’t no rale use for Wiltsee. Jest her way. ’Tain’t likely as a girl thet’s ben stayin’ a month down ven- der at the P’int visitin’ her kin and goih’ to all the doin’s hez any use for a man without a second coat to his back.” “Can’t tell,” protested another, as the throng began to file up the hill. The houses of the hamlet sat about in a groove of the river slope, going quietlv to pieces in the sunshine. They were gray and old, with vine-hung hoods to the doors, and little gardens in which weeds success- fully debated With zenias and hollyhocks the question of precedence. In the front window of the Roman house a muslin curtain fluttered freshly. A rose- tree twined over the latticed porch, its thorny arms laden with countless flowers of a. thickly petaled sort resembling queerly puckered bunches of pink ribbon. Green handed over the packages he had been carrying.” “ Could I come to see yeh this evenin’ ? he ventured. He stood awk- wardly in the gate, his toes pathetic in their variance of direct-ion. In his brown check a dusky red manifested itself. Nonie’s mother, a big, fair woman, beam- ed encouragement from the porch-way. “A course you kin,” she assured him. Inside the low-celled living-room she embraced her daughter proudly. “ Law, Nonie, you look as citified as the girls on the Nashville boats ! That there hat now l And your waisb’s as jimpy as I want to see it.” She cast a critical coldness into her glance. a Yes," she added, “ it’s every bit as jimpy as I keer to hev it: your waist is, for I ain’t like them as sakerfices their ecnsides to their outsides. As tight as you kin fetch the strings without help, th,et’s tight enough.” In a moment she broke out amusedly: u Green’s ben mighty bad off sence vou bcn gone. Looked like he was lost. “'ell, I don’t wonder much, ifyou are my daughter. You’re - going to do well, Nonie. ’Tain’t every girl kin crook her finger and git a man that owns two houses and a barn.” The blond head under the flowery hat executed a decided toss. “ Oh, I don’t know,” cried the girl. “ He’s a nice man, Green is, out I don’t know as he’s justâ€"Oh, well, I kind of favor a darker-complected style than what he is â€"black eyes andâ€"” * Her mother’s face leaped to a sudden mis- giving. “ You better look for something besides color in a man’s eyes,” she said, austei‘ely. “ A man thet hain’t no gift but the gift of turnin’ a tune and battin’his eyes .ain’t to be named alongside of one that’s honest and reliable. Tliet there \Viltseeâ€"” “ Who spokehis name? I never.” “ ’Twasn’t needful. Thet there W iltsee hain’t ambition enough to drive ducks to water. I’d liever see a daughter o’miue in her shroud than married to that smock- faced feller, with his moonin’s and his mournin’s. ” She stopped with the sudden sharpness of tone which denotes unwonted excite-- ment. Nouie’s laugh rang out clear and disdainful. '_The flush in her soft cheeks came and a cut, “Iwouldn’t worry,’ she advised her mother, ‘ seeing that I ain’t married to no person-â€"nor likely to be.” That night as Green got up to go, Mrs. Boman signalled her daughter. “ You step out with Guv’ner and see thet the gate’s tied, Nonie. I’m jest outdone with Blair’s hawgs a~grubbin’ up my garden 0’ nights.” ' The moon, slipping into sight above. the hills, showed a long oval blurred about with silvery clouds. The rose-vines over the porch, lacquered blackly on the outer brightness, cast frail shadows of themselves on Nonie’s gown as she stepped over the threshold; some night bird tried a lonely note across the unseen river; a little wind wandered threugh a thicket beyond the house. Green helped to fasten the gate behind him. ’ His fingers touched Nonie’s as they fumbled with the strand of rope, and both drew up with a startled air. Green’s breath came heavily. “ Inever looked to hev the face to ask you,” he said “ Nonieâ€"Iâ€"it's been a long spell sence I made up my mind about you.” And as the night bird croaked a second rasping cry, hqudded, simply, “ Nonieâ€" could you 2” 3?" The girl turned a little. Her face had an usual delicacy in the moonlight, the hair a weft of mist and moonshine, in the web 'of which her eyes shone dark. A candle flared past the window, and Mrs. Bomau’s shape, > a plump apparition of warning, modelled itself up on the cur ain. “ Say Nonie ! Oh, I’d do anything on earth ior you I” Nonie withdrew her arm from his grasp of the thin sleeve. She slipped away ; but midway of the path she paused and glanced back, “ Well,” she said. And her tone wasa tone of consent. By morning the silvery presage of the moon’s ring had verified itself in heavy clouds. MrsBoman, taking note of .the towering mass leaning its white shoulders on the south slopes, prophesied thunder. “ Would you hear to fetch a 'bucket of spring-water against the rain comes?” she asked her daughter. Her accent was deferential, as toward one whose fortunes are established. Nonie threw on a sun-bonnet, catching up the bucket as she went. The spring gurgled between two rocks overhanging a creek, just beyond the house. It was icily cold, 8. little iron-flavored thread, so clear in its motionless continuity of flow as to look like a filament of glass spun against the gray cliff. Half-way down the moss-padded approach to the spring’s yellowish basin Nonie paused foot-bound. A man was just stooping to drink from the basin’s rim. 'His hat lay beside him in a clump of ferns, and his black locks cast off their silkiness of texture in white gleams. _ . Perhaps he had seen her. Nonie hesi- tated for an instant. Then she went for- ward. ‘ VViltsee, getting to his feet, freed his mustache of water with an unembarrassed brush of the hand. “ Howdy?" he said, as she set her buck- et to fill. “ That crinkle of water sounds mighty pretty,” he remarked. She nodded, half kneeling on the mossy rock, her hand supporting her. VViltsee observed her critically. “ I reckon you ’ain’t any idy how sweet you look kneelin’ thet a-way,” he debated. She flashed up a glance of. reproof, but the sadness of his face awed her, it had so little in common with his words. “When you blush, like -you’re blushin now,”he went on, .dispassionately, “ you mind me of an apple blowâ€"all pinkywhite.” He tilted from heel to toe, a rhythmic whistle slipping between his teeth. This presently took on a distincter measure, the idle breath shaping itself in words : “ VV'ncn apple blows is whitenin’ And birds began to sing, And littlc April shudders Across the sky's blue clingâ€"â€" Oh, then my heart is swellin' Like some green burstin’ bud ; My speret rises in me, A mountain stream at flood! “ For apple blossoms brings me My girl’s faco flushin’ up ; Her honey breath co nics’ c rcepin‘ From each pink posy’s cup. Fur. fur beyond iny‘graspin’ My darling blooms! 0h, she Is sweet to wind and sunbeam, But cold as deitli to me Ashe paused be regarded Nonie doubt- fully. “ Thar’s more Words to it a-bub- blin’ up in my mind when I look at you _” “ I can’t wait to hear ’um, ' she panled, stumbling up. “ I can’t ! You got; a mighty sweet voice and all that, and those songs you make up are lovely, But I den’t reckon I can listen at ’um any more, Guv’ner Greenâ€"heâ€"" “ He’s asked yeh ‘2” “ Y-yes. ” VViltsee’s head dropped on his breast with a slow motion of despair which seemed almost tranquil in its acceptance of her statement. , “ I thought some of takin’ a singin’.c1asg down’t the P’int,” he sighed. “ And mm was a little house down 'thar -with blue facin’s to the windowsâ€"” Nonie started away, paling. you l” she breathed. Wiltsee sighed again. “'I won’t; say nare ’nothcr word,” he acquiesced with engag. ing readiness. The girl’s eyes held a troubled light as “ Don’t saw \Viltsee standing where she had left him, his head on his breast. The motion- less figure haunted her. The averted face, the hopeless attitude, kept sleep away that night as she lay listening to the song of the frogs below on the slushy rivervbank. The little muslin flounces at her window made ihe darkness 3. visable thing full of ominous fiutterings. \Vas that a cuckoo’s cry, that experimental note somewhere below? It came from the thicket beyond the house. A gentle sibilauce throbbed through the night, its sound like the slir of taut strings. And then the stealthy undertone crept into lan- guage. A low voice was singing : _ “ My sweetheart’s sleepin’. In her breast No pain nor acne. - My sweetheart’s slccpin', tho’ my eyes “7itii hot tears shake. Alone and in the night am I. Amournin’ ncaf a starlcss sky. . She sleeps. Nor will my bitter cry Her droamin’ break.” Nonie lay breathless. The sound seemed as if wandering ofl’, the twang of strings more faint, some little tripping measure re- placing in the distance their earlier rhythm of mournfulness. “ I never see a girl take sech a Sorry in- t’rust in her weddin’ fixin’s as you do,” complained Mrs. Boman. “ Here you got a hull bolt 0’ W amsutter to make up, and you jest set round the jurin’ time a-count- in’ your fingers. Ain’t you feelin’ right stout ‘2” I “ I’m well enough,” said Nonie, sullcnly. But her super-abundant color was becom- ing delicately less. There were patches of purple under her eyes. She spent the greater part of her time on the porch below the roses, sittingidle, casting furtivc glanc- es up and down the road. "Look like no one ever passes '3” she complained. ’ “ They don’t lay out to pass,” chuckled Mrs. Bomau. “Chains and oxes couldn’t dror Guv’ner Green a-past that gate. So fur he gits and no more.” Her daughter snapped off a rose and be- liad a fascinating incongruity. leaning toward Wilt-see, with clasped hands, ' and the young man, lifting the banjo, trilled with the loose locks of her brown hair. i said. othernight when I told her I jedged you was- about as handsome as they make ’em. Between you and her and the rest-of ’uin I can’t say a word. Thar now, Ellie, I never went to hurt cheeks is redder than hers. The'y ’mind me of some words that came a inixin’ and stirrin’ through my head last night when I laid awake studyiu’ about you.” threaded the cords, beginning softly, some flight of fever he was trying to sing, the delirium of suffering masking itself in a guise of gayety. “ Look in,” shesaid in a strained voice. “ See if it’s really him.” Guv’ner moved toward the unfenced yard his form a blot upon the ruddy space. He moved so slowly that a vibration of impa- tience bore the girl after him. He was scarcely in range of the room before Nonie was at his side staring into the deal- walled enclosure. \Viltsee sat at ease in a corner of the wood settle, his banjo in his hands. The bandage over his brow did not spoil his picturesqueness, but rather enhanced his foreign air, giving him the look of some turbaned Oriental. The same subtle sad- ness quivered in his lips. The very move- ment of his long fingers on the strings held intimations of inconsolable grief. But the watchers in the garden space were‘ not markedly aware of the precise features of Wiltsee’s aspect, being absorbed in regard of the room’s other occupant. She was his hand from “ I never see sech shiny hair, Ellie,” lie “ Widder Hays got right uppity the your feelin’s. ’ Your He “ \Vhen apple blows is \vhitenin’ And birds begin to singâ€"" Green felt himself twitched toward the gau to pick apart the fluted pink petals. Down the paveless road, beyond the thicket, she could see the scrap of dwelling in which \Viltsee lived alone; it was on the skirts of the hamlet, a mere log pen in a clump of greenery. Within its mossy walls he sat by himself, his fine cyes always downcast, Beside the settle, on the low stool, sat Hogan’s girl,a plump young creature,whose large matronly figure and small babyish face road. The figure at his side seemed to have for the moment a. force which set a . mock on forces merely natural. And then, of a sudden, it was no longer a compelling miracle of power, but only a soft, limp something which caught his hand to its lips and hung upon him, sobbing : “I hen wore on. With the easy clairvoyancy of shut lids Nonie saw him thusâ€"life, because of her, touching his lips as a tasteless morsel. Another man might have sought distrac- tion among men. The delicate fibre of Wilt- see’s nature made solitude his only solace. Honor, too, constrained his seclusion. She was promised to another, and he would not cross her path. It was only now and then that she saw him, even at a distance. Several weeks passed. Summer labored into the heaviness of mid-season, the aerial slightness of her first budding replaced with matronly curves. ' _ “ I p’intedly look for early frost,” com- mented the old man of the brown blouse, as he slouohed over Boman’s fence one even- ing. “ D’ye hear tliet katydid ? Six weeks to frost. Well, I’m ready for fall and fall rains. 'I ain’t like some, content to wear my marrer-bones thoo with settin’ on ’um. Look at the lazy cattle these young fellers is l Lord l I could no mo’â€"-'l‘het \Viltsee, now â€"Oh, say ! did y’all hear about what hap- pened him yistiddy ‘2” He spat with a pre- fatory air. “ Why, he went down to the P’int with a dugout half full 0’ ’sang, and whilse he was waitin’ fer a. ’chance to trade it, he sat down onder the railroad cliff ter rest. And look like they was blarstin’ up thar, ’cuz a slab 0’ rock took him in the head. They tellas his eyes is well bunged. Some ’lows he won’t never hev no use on ’um. Waal, Sirs, when I see him a-puttin’ home last night, all wrapped round the head and a feller leadin’ him, I jcst says to ’um all that I ’lowed the A’mighty’d sarved him ’bout right. Hain’t no mo’ use ’n a pigeonâ€" Wiltsee hain’t. Good ter whine a chnnc'into some fool girl’s ear, ’n ’notliin’ mo’-â€"nh? Why, howdy, Miss Nonie? I never seed you in amongst them thar vines.” It was just on the edge of dark, as Guv’ner Green, smellingt freshly of soap, and damply polished about the hairs of his head, came out of this dwelling next to the store. Something advanced from the vernel gloom of the lilac-bushes beyond the gateâ€"something white and trembling, which moved with a sound of rustling mus- line. For the instant Green fancied his own thought had taken this overt shape and was tuching his arm, appealing to [him with a curiously white face. “ It’s me,” panted the appearance, be- coming a very real creature With a sobbing catch in its tone.’_’ “ I’ve just heard about Wiltsee ! Oh, .Guv’ner, I’m punished. He cared a heap for me, and I wouldn’t let. him say aword, ’cause I’d promised you ; and now he’s nearly killed ! Oh, Guv’ner l” He had taken her hands, and was steady- ing her shaking figure. “ What do you Want me to do, Nonie ‘2” he asked. “I’ve got to see him. You won’thate me, will you? Oh, Guv’ncr, it’s ’cause he loves me so much that Ifeel soâ€"so bad. He does, Guv’nerl He loves me more than you do. Them songsâ€"” “,You want me to take you where he . 9, ’3 ;. Yves... “Well, I will. He ain’t hurt so bad. Don’t cry, Nonie. I’ll take you. ’N’ I won t hate you, deary. He couldn’t love you like I do. But it’s for you to say.” They went along in the dark, stumbling a little at times as the (log-fennel trapped their feet. Forks of dull red broke at in- tervals from a cottage door and window. Men were talking on the store steps, their figures grey and indefinite in a pale wash of light. But after the two wayfarers had passed the heart of the hamlet hints of lights and noise died, and the drowsy councils of the township frogs seemed to impress the still- ness with a profounder quiet. Wiltsee’s house was still some way ahead -â€"tbe poor small cabin in which he lay, broken and bleeding, with no familiar hand to serve him. Nonic’s breath came sharp at the woeful picture. Those tuneless lips -wns memory at work, or was .that thin sweet, resonance the airy lift of banjo- strings? Ureen heard it too : “ It seems to come frdm Hogan’s,” he said doubtfully, glanc- ing toward a window disclosed just off the road as a pulsing square of candle light. A voice appeared to try a pitch. There was a murmur of laughter, and it- rang out more assuredly. Nonie stopped. The voice was Wiltsee’s. Perhaps they had taken him for better the pallor of his check more marked as time ' blind ! directionâ€"south. many ways as there are pomts on the com- pass card, but every one of these wpys is south; east and west have vanished. The hour of the day at the pole is a paradoxical conception, for that point is the meeting place of every meridian, and the time of all complex, and its practical solution concerns Oh, Guv’ner, I ben blind l” â€"â€"â€".â€" A Paradox of the Polo. At the North Pole there is only one One could go south in as holds good, so that it is always any hour one cares to mention. Unpunctuality is I hence impossibleâ€"but the question grows a few. No one needs to go to the pole to discover all that makes that point different from any other point of the surface. But the whole polar regions are full of unknown things, which every Arctic explorer of the right stamp looas forward to finding. And the reward he looks forward to most is the ap- proval of the few who understand and love knowledge for its own sake, rather than the noisy applause of the crowd who would cheer him, after all, much as they cheer a winning prize-lighter, or race-horse, or political candidate. The difficulties that make the quest of the pole so arduous have been discovered by slow degrees. It is marvellous how soon nearly the full limits of northward attain- ment were reached. 111 1596 Barents dis- covered Spitzbergen in about.78 ° north; in 1770 Hudson reached 80 ° ; in 1827 Parry, by sledging on the ice when his ship became fast, succeeded~ in touching 82° 45°. Since then all the enormous resources of modern scienceâ€"steam, electricity, preserved foods and the experience of centuriesâ€"have only enabled forty miles of additional poleward advance to be made. - Remembering thatthe circle marked 80° is distant seven hundred miles from the pole, the reader can realize the distances involved The Arctic Basin, occupied by the Arctic Sea, is ringed in by land ; the northern coasts of America, Europe, and Asia, form- ing a roughly circular boundary broken by three well-marked channelscommunicat- ing with the ocean. Bering Strait between America and Asia is the narrowest, Baffin Bay between America and Greenland is Wider, branching into a number ice-blocked sounds to the westward, and tapering ofi‘ into Smith Sound in the north-east. The widest channel of the three lies between Greenland and Europe, and this is bisected just south of 80 ° North by the island group. of Spitzbergen.â€"[ McClure’s Magazine. The Coral Sea. In no quarter of the World are the partly buried ocean wonders more lavishly dis played in all their endless variety than off this north-eastern coast of Terra Australis, within the Great Barrier Reef in the Coral Sea. As the boat is launched to take us ashore, the wonders commence at once. It is surely some fairy forest Where elfii! kings I l court princesses in fishly guise, or water babies sit and pout on some coral boulder. Or is it a submarine flower garden where the mermaids dwell ? Deep down in clear, bright water won- drous shapes and colours are seen, at first indistinctly, like a tinted photograph out of focus : then, as the water gets shallower and shallower, more and more distinctly flash the jewel fires, and the picture is coni- plete. Large flat bowls of milk-white coral first attract the eye. branching antlers like a fallen deer only the fairy herd there are lying buried in a huge, confused mass. Some are covered with ten thousand sharp pinnacles of a light purply colour, each pinnacle having a bright blue eye (or what looks like an eye) at the ex- tremity. All in a sea of emerald, this dream of en- chantment. We fear before we see half the v glory of it we might awake, and, alas ! for-l get too soon. There light and feathery branches of fern-like coral are blushing a soft pink or pale nasturtium yellow. Here large solid masses of brain coral, round and white, the surface encrusted or engraved with the most delicate lace tracings ; and others green and shaped like a coarse moss. _â€"â€"â€"-"-â€"â€"â€"â€"â€" An Evasive Answer. As Smithkins sat in his office a dye-agent put his head in at the open door, and asked cheerfully : ' “ Any old clothes to be dyed?” “ No,”. answered Smithkins in funeral she seized the bucket. Looking back, she care to a neighboring house. Perhaps in tones, “they are all dead.” Then others withl .be RY. POE The Coming of Summer- The woods are nstir with the flutter 0f win *3, Each thicket resounds with the notes 0 a. some ; ' The maplcs' green banners unfnri to the breeze, And hither the dryads come tripping along, \Vhose chanting has startled the squirrel that, - s rings ' _ _ From ouch unto bough of the whispering trees. The uplands. whose pastures of emerald hue Laugh low_ at the frolics of lambkins at play. Are waiting expectant for some one to I come, Trickcd out in their holiday flnery, gay With butter-cups yellow and harcbclls of blue. That tinkle and chime when we think they are dumb. The brook is aglad with hilarious glee. And gambols and leaps as it run’s to the lake. “She s coming! she’s coming!” it shouts to ,. the field; “The cranes have come back and the wood- _ Chuck’s awake?” Likcany young madcap from durance set free, And Singlth for joy till its lips shall be sea 0 . The lake as her children run into her arms, Impatient to tell the good tidin‘rs the first, Takes each to hcr heart, and there rocks it to sleep ; And while ont her heaving, full bosom ’tis , nurs , She croonsu soft lullaby. speaking the charms or summer, high carnival coming to keep. â€"[William T. James, Toronto, in Frank Leslie’s Weekly. Worth While- I pray thee, Lord. that when it comes to me 'io sayif I will follow Truth and Theo. Or choose instead to win as better worth My pains some cloying recompense of earthâ€" Grantflmca. great Father, from a hard fought cl . Forespent and bruised, upon a battered shield, Home to obscure en iurance to be borne. Rather than live my own mean gains to scorn. Far bettqr fall with face turned toward the 803 y At one with wisdom and my own worn soul. Than ever come to see myself prevail, When to succeed at last is but to fail. Mean ends to win and therewith be contentâ€"â€" Save me from that! Direct Thou the cvcnt As suits Thy will ; wherc’re the prizes go, Grant me the struggle, that my soul may grow_ “ When Cherries are Ripa” When cherries are ripe and summer is here, With blossoms and fruitage, with welcome and cheer; When robins and bluebirds ’ncath sheltering Chii-pvbf’i’festings and broodings. and joyfully WherZngii forests are ripe with glistening And the grass in the meadow is heavy and. \thiig’tfiedldiaid in the kitchen. the boy in the field, Take note of the reddening, ripening yield Of the cherry trccs lately in blossom so sweet, Now loaded with cherries just ready to eat ;_ When ripe clusters of fruiton the trees are (1).!!- played, lVe think‘ of the pies that our mothers once made When cherries are ripe. Cobwebs. No longer fairies hold their sway : th tiny hammocks swing From waving summer boughs to-day; And to the craSsos cling Soft beaded veils of woven mist, _ Where elves were wont to hold their tryst, The busy little gnome who spreads Unseen these dainty things Can mingle with his fragile threads No hope of future wingsâ€"â€" Unlike the rival worm who spins His silken shroud and heaven wins. Nature has weavers who possess Beauty and power of song. The spider in his humble dress Is silent under wrong, And with his Webs the vireos dare To make their pendent nests more fair; Yet still undauntcd by his fate He hangs this shimmering lace On awkward wall or clumsy gate With matchless skill and grace : But ceaseless foes his fabrics rend : Titania’s weaver has no‘friend. Songs of the fine- A glimpse of woodlands. green and fair, A carpet brown soft spreading there, And fragrant nature everywhere ; Among green leaves a singing breeze, A sons,r oft sung by grand old trees. A son of pines as chliyrsplay An 01 â€"timc hymn sung day by day. A thousand years that some sweet lay; A murmur soft and born aloftl * And sung anew by memory oft. O troubled soul, how (-ft at night To calm thy throbbing lieartache’s blight, Across the moors of time so white, Come waftcd notes, a song that floats Across our seas in mem’ry boats. Oh! for an hour at thy dear feet, To lic upon thy carpet neat, And gaze through boughs whcre arches meet. While days of thine, in mem’ry mine, Come low, sweet murmurs of the pine. “ Hope 011, Hope Ever!” “ Hope on, hope ever!” Earth is not so drear. Nor life a comfortlcss and empty dream ; The darkest clouds that gather o‘crns here Are not the harbingcrs we sometimes deem; For, 10! how brilliant the returning ray, As one by one their shadows pass away! “Hope on, hope ever!” Is thy heart bereft Of all that rendered life once dear to thee? Amid the wreck thc quenchless spark is left, Whose light, though feeble, shall thy beacon be. , Though death’s cold hand some kindred he may sever, " Still lctt iy motto be " Hope on, hope evcr! “Hope on, bone ever!” \Veary and oppressed, Care’s pallid seal stamped on thy sunken check, ‘ - There is a haven of eternal rest, Whose sacred Joy no mortal tongue can speak. _ Look upward in thine hour of dark despairâ€"- Hope points to heaven, and drops her anchor there. .. A Paper to Prevent Forged Documents It is very desirable that dishonest persons prevented from duplicating certificates of stock, bonds, drafts, and such valuable documents: and many' devices have been employed for this purpose. new _pro- cess has just been introduced in making a paper which will at least be difficult tOOIml- tate successfully. Ink is applied to a litho- graphic stone, and another similar stone is placed on its face and rubbed together until the ink is so distributed that a variegated deSign is produced. When the ink is dry, the design is transferred to paper after the usual manner in lithographic printing. Of course any color may be selected for the ink. It is manifest, also, that the design thus cheaply produced can be varied indeli- nitelv until a pleasing or effective one is obtained. A counterfeit is detected at once when COlnplli':d with a sample of the gen. nine paper. 1