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BY CAROLINE FRY, Wilsen
PUBLISHED BY GEORGE, LATIMER & CO.
NO. 13 SOUTH FOURTH STREET.
CONTENTS OF VOLUME II.
For birds are like men in their contests together,
And trust me, dear, good humour can prevail,
It was one of those splendid days before midsummer, when every thing seems to have reached the perfection of beauty, and to luxuriate in the fulness of enjoyment. The leaf had blown full, but it had not faded, neither had the dust or the drought spoiled its brightness. Of the field, the hedge, the woodland, the flowers had blown; but as yet they had not died—there seemed scarcely space enough in nature for the revel of their beauty. All creation teemed with increase of life, without the feeling that sometimes assimilates it with increase of suffering : a feeling of life's disproportionate supply. The character of this hour was abundance-prodigal abundance. The seed was in the the berry was in the blossom, the wheat was in the blade; and the barrenness of winter was forgotten. It was evening, but there was no cold to shrink the limbs, no dews to chill the blood. Beneath the thick foliage of the underwood, over grass and flowers, where the mower had never whet his scythe, I walked as dry as if on the artificial carpet of the drawing-room. We have