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Rich poppy-fields, which lulled to sleep, then stole
Away their lives! a fitting parallel.

Lest thou shouldst rear an idol in thy heart
And not adore the BEING increate,

Of whom thy soul is but an effluence dim,

She was removed; she was etherealized.

How could they say she died? First in thy thoughts
Her image always lived; and 'fore thy gaze

A floating form, as if instinct and light

Did marble animate; and on her cheek

A vermil tint blushed through the clear white pearl:
Yet none but thee beheld celestial shape

(Like that the eye of faith to Spaniards showed,
When sainted MARY led their battle-van,)
None thought that one redeemed then hovered near,
Who joyed, when on a foeman's lance was borne
A welcome summons to rejoin thy love.

That name lisped forth by thee from lips all pale,
Thy Guardian Angel called; and all life's sweets,
In that brief space comprest, made thy last hour
The happiest, holiest of thine earthly span.
The past came rolling back; and bright thine eyes
Exultant beamed upon thy spirit-bride:
Then was renewed thy youth; then thou didst list
The rustling whirr of viewless plumed wings:
That sound prelusive of seraphic choirs.

As upward springs the lark on joyous wing,
When purpling morn peeps o'er the eastern hills,
So hence, on thine eternal morn, ye twain
In shining garb did rise to heavenly realms.

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W. E. BROWNE.

I.

My lady is certainly pretty,
My lady is certainly fair:
She's charming, she's graceful, she's witty,
She sings like a bird in the air;
But then, sure the deuce must be in it!
I think she is all I could love;
Her glance, when by chance I can win it,
Lacks something my pulses to move.

III.

Do I love her, or not? that's the puzzle,
And who shall unravel the thread
That binds up my heart like a muzzle,

And smothers the thoughts in my head?
If I thought now it would not o'ertask her,
My fancies to take from the shelf,
Like a bundle of books, I would ask her,
This minute to read me myself!

II.

I'm cold, or she must be colder,

(I wonder now which it can be :)

IV.

Do I love her, or not? will she tell me?
If so I should much like to know;

Or the love, with which others behold her, And where that same passion befel me?

Would waken some feeling in me. 'Tis puzzling, indeed quite a riddle,

When one cannot read his own heart; But finds, when he gets to the middle, He's just where he was at the start.

And how does its presence here show?
And then when my heart, beyond doubt, it
Is clear she has truthfully shown,

I venture to hope, while about it,
She'll tell me the state of her own.

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The Hut.

BY HENRY J. BRENT.

CHAPTER SEVENTE.

It is not well to take a man always by his looks, but it happens sometimes that the first opinion formed at the first glance, turns out to be the correct one. The man before me at that moment was a perfect Hercules, and I felt not a little surprised as well as pleased, that I was able to shake his grasp from my shoulder. The time came when the finger of a pale-faced, delicate-limbed individual, conveyed more weight in its touch, upon the arm of this huge specimen, than his broad and bony hand did upon my person on that occasion. It was some months afterward, and he then found, that shake as he might, and raise his muscular limb as he might, even if he had the power of twenty men in its folds, he could not for one instant of time cease to feel the feather weight of that finger upon him, and it never relinquished its pressure, but held him down, his master and his victor. He did not dream that his destiny was fixed forever in this world, and probably in the next, when, on that quiet noon, he touched the unoffending person of a stranger but so it did come to pass in the end.

But I have to deal with him now; others, it will appear, dealt with him afterward, and to that afterward I will postpone my reader. With my gun grasped firmly in my hand, I looked him full in the face.

Strange as it

And what a face it was that looked back upon me. may appear, but the first thought that flashed across my mind was, that it would have been better if I had aimed my rifle at the tiger in my front, than at the fleeting deer, who had slain the no more dangerous reptile in its path. The serpent was dead before my eyes, but the giant beast, with his brow knit, and fanged mouth clenched firm, was living, and apparently ready to do any wrong his wickedness might prompt. Do not suppose that I felt as self-possessed and cool as I do at this moment; but it was necessary for me to rally to my aid all the energies of my mind, and assume the semblance of a calmness that I really did not feel, though I was not so craven as to yield one inch of ground to the insolent-looking ruffian who had ventured his interference in my conduct. Acting upon this policy, I addressed him in a quiet tone that took him off his guard:

'Are you the sheriff of the county, my worthy Sir?' were the first words I uttered. There was so much of apparent innocence and greenness in my manner, that I perceived at once he was puzzled as to what course he should pursue. However, he did not hesitate long, for he advanced another step toward me, his brow still lowering. I now began to think it was some madman with whom I had to deal. No, I'm no d―d sheriff; but you may be one, and if you are, the devil take

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you out of this. I say again, what right have you to shoot in these woods who gave you leave to shoot here?'

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Who gives you the right to stop me if I want to shoot?' I quietly reïnterrogated.

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I give it to myself, and I tell you that if you do n't move off you 'll

'My good friend, if you raise your arm that way again, I assure you I shall bring the butt end of the rifle down upon your head.' The words had scarcely escaped my lips, when I saw his hand rapidly extended toward my throat, with the fingers stretched as if to clutch me to the death. So rapid was his movement, though not entirely unexpected, that I had barely time to spring on one side and lift the gun in the air, with the full intention of letting it fall, with whatever of force it might, upon his bushy, cap-covered head. If it had done so, my first adventure in the forest would have been somewhat different from my expectations. He had sense enough left to see the danger to which he was exposing his noddle, and accordingly he changed his tactics of warfare, and I observed that he was looking around him, evidently for some heavy stick, by the aid of which he might equalize the combat. Again I thought it necessary to give him a piece of advice. If I see you stoop to pick up any thing larger than a straw, I will bring the butt end of my gun down upon your head: so take care what you do.' My advice, as is usual upon such occasions, was totally disregarded, and he sprang to a broken limb of a fallen tree, that, if he had reached, would have very nearly put him upon an equality with the rifle-butt. He however was not destined to attain his object; for my two companions, who, up to this time, with the usual and wonderful patience of their race, had remained tranquil witnesses of the scene, began now to think it necessary to interfere with the white people's quarrel. It was Mike who first entered the list as my champion; Sampson paying me the compliment of thinking that I could very well manage the matter, and possibly anxious to witness some exploit that would give him an additional reason to respect and love the future guardian of his old home; for there is nothing in the world a negro so much admires as gallantry, either in love or war, of their masters and of all the relations and kin of their masters. Sampson, I rather think, had great confidence in the butt end of the rifle and the rather stout hand that held it poised in the air. Another reason perhaps was that Sampson was not so exemplary a Christian as Mike, and possibly had a spice of the old Adam in his heart, that inclined him to like the scent of battle.' The momentary glance that I had of the powerful yet quiet form of my sable ally, revealed him to me with his hawthorn stick in his hand, his head bent forward, and his whole attitude exhibiting a consciousness that if he was needed, he could give the aid required. It was Mike who made the first movement of interference, and it was at the exact moment when my antagonist had made up his mind to arm himself with the club that lay some seven or eight feet from him, and it was as he moved to reach it, and while I was ready and determined to prevent it, that Mike stepped forward and commenced his part in the pleasant little semi-pantomime then in action.

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The ruffian had not advanced one step in the direction of the broken limb, when he was arrested by Mike's laying his hand upon his arm, and with a strength that I scarcely could have expected in the old negro, he was held as if in the grasp of a giant equal to himself. The white man turned suddenly, and with increased passion, upon his new adversary, but catching sight of the uplifted rifle, and seeing that I was determined to bring it in contact with his head, he restrained the blow, threatened by both look and gesture.

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Rude Keller,' began Mike, 'why do you do so what harm has that young gentleman done you? Aint you wicked enough taking timber that don't belong to you any way, without trying to kill people that walks about the woods, and that don't 'sturb you ?' Rude Keller, for by that name Mike addressed him, again raised his arm as if to strike his questioner, when Mike interposed his book between them, holding it close to the white man's face. 'Would you strike an old man over such a book as that, Rude Keller?' 'Yes' shouted the enraged beast, and with one quick and furious blow, he drove the book from Mike's hand, and struck the poor negro to the earth. In an instant Sampson was upon the ruffian, whose vast strength would have availed him little, had the knotted walking-stick fallen where it should upon the instant have fallen. There was no need of the rifle-butt either, for I saw that the fight was over, so far as the white man was concerned, though I felt every inclination to use the force of the weapon upon the infuriated man, who, without the slightest provocation, had so ruthlessly assailed us. This whole affair had arisen so suddenly, that I had not given myself time to speculate upon the motive of its commencing, and now that it had resulted thus far, so unfortunately to one of my companions, I determined upon pursuing a course that would bring the offender to a proper punishment. That punishment I did not contemplate as one that I was to inflict personally upon him myself; for I felt it would be unfair, if not unfair, unmanly, to take advantage of the superior position I occupied, being backed by Sampson; but my course was to find out his abode, and ere I left the neighborhood, place him in the hands of the law, for his attack upon myself, and his reckless and unwarrantable treatment of poor Mike. These thoughts passed through my mind with the rapidity that all men have experienced in their lives, and I knew that it would be an easy matter to conquer our assailant and render him perfectly harmless for the present; for I had but to load the rifle, while Sampson dealt with him, and thus armed, he could offer no resistance, or attempt any new assault. But all these reflections and determinations were rendered useless by a turn in affairs that occurred at the very juncture when Sampson had stepped forth to avenge the fate of the carpenter.

In turning to meet the interference of Mike, Keller had partially exposed his back to me, so that objects in the range of my vision would also be apparent to his, and thus it happened.

I saw a figure leisurely approaching from a screen of the woods. At first it was so dusky-looking in its form and color, that it was not positively distinct from the surrounding tints of the autumn foliage. However, there was the figure of a man, approaching with a steady though

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