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liked him," answered the widow, naturally embarrassed by such a question.
“Well, thin," asked Costello, enforcing his question by gentle squeezes of the widow's round waist, “d'ye like me well enough as meself?"
"Hear the man!” exclaimed the widow, derisively; "do I like him well enough as himself?”
"Ah, now, don't be breakin' me heart," pleaded Costello. -"Answer me this question, Mrs. Cummiskey: Is yer heart tender toward me?”
“It is,” whispered the widow ; "an' there, now ye have it."
“The saints be praised !” exclaimed the happy lover, and he drew the not unwilling widow to his bosom.
A few minutes after Mrs. Cummiskey looked up, and, as she smoothed her hair, said: “But, Jam-es, ye haven't told me how ye liked yer tay."
“Ah, Nora, me jewel,” answered Mr. Costello, “the taste of that first kiss would take away the taste of all the tay that ever was brewed.”
A DOUBTING HEART.
Frozen and dead,
O doubting heart !
The balmy southern breeze,
Why must the flowers die?
Prisoned they lie
O doubting heart!
While winter winds shall blow,
The sun has hid his rays
These many days;
O doubting heart!
That soon, for spring is nigh,
Fair hope is dead, and light
Is quenched in night;
O doubting heart!
Brighter for darkness past,
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER. DANIEL GRAY.
F I shall ever win the home in Heaven
For whose sweet rest I humbly hope and pray, In the great company of the forgiven
I shall be sure to find old Daniel Gray. I knew him well; in truth, few knew him better;
For my young eyes oft read for him the Word, And saw how meekly from the crystal letter
He drank the life of his beloved Lord. Old Daniel Gray was not a man who lifted
On ready words his freight of gratitude, Nor was he called among the gifted,
In the prayer-meetings of his neighborhood. He had a few old-fashioned words and phrases,
Linked in with sacred texts and Sunday rhymes ; And I suppose that in his prayers and graces,
I've heard them all at least a thousand times. I see him now-his form, his face, his motions,
His homespun habit, and his silver hair,And hear the language of his trite devotions,
Rising behind the straight-backed kitchen chair. I can remember how the sentence sounded
“Help us, O Lord, to pray and not to faint!" And how the" conquering-and-to-conquer" rounded
The loftier aspirations of the saint.
He never kissed his children-so they say ;
Less than a horse-shoe picked up in the way.
He had a hearty hatred of oppression,
And righteous words for sin of every kind; Alas, that the transgressor and transgression
Were linked so closely in his honest mind!
He could see naught but vanity in beauty,
And naught but weakness in a fond caress, And pitied men whose views of Christian duty
Allowed indulgence in such foolishness.
Yet there were love and tenderness within him;
And I am told that when his Charley died,
From his fond vigils at the sleeper's side.
And when they came to bury little Charley,
They found fresh dew-drops sprinkled in his hair, And on his breast a rosebud gathered early,
And guessed, but did not know who placed it there,
Honest and faithful, constant in his calling,
Strictly attendant on the means of grace, Instant in prayer, and fearful most of falling,
Old Daniel Gray was always in his place.
A practical old man, and yet a dreamer,
way His mighty Friend in Heaven, the great Redeemer,
Would honor him with wealth some golden day.
This dream he carried in a hopeful spirit
Until in death his patient eye grew dim, And his Redeemer called him to inherit
The heaven of wealth long garnered up for him.
So, if I ever win the home in Heaven
For whose sweet rest I humbly hope and pray,
J. G. HOLLAND.
THE LAST CHARGE OF NEY.
limer spectacle than the last great effort of Napoleon to save his sinking empire. Europe had been put upon the plains of Waterloo to be battled for. The greatest military energy and skill the world possessed had been tasked to the utmost during the day. Thrones were tottering on the ensanguined field, and the shadows of fugitive kings flitted through the smoke of battle. Bonaparte's star trembled in the zenith, now blazing out in its ancient splendor, now suddenly paling before his
At length, when the Prussians appeared on the field, he resolved to stake Europe on one bold throw. He committed himself and France to Ney, and saw his empire rest on a single charge. The intense anxiety with which he watched the advance of the column, the terrible suspense he suffered when the smoke of battle concealed it from sight, and the utter despair of his great heart when the curtain lifted over a fugitive army, and the despairing shriek rang out on every side, “ La garde recule, La garde recule,” make us, for the moment, forget all the carnage, in sympathy with his distress.
Ney felt the pressure of the immense responsibility on his brave heart, and resolved not to prove unworthy