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and division at the North to help them. John. Aunt Maria, he said, was very This state of things must be remedied, or feeble, unable to attend to her work. we shall perish as a nation. God is Rachel was at school, and the house was against slavery and all other wickedness. in a sorry condition. They had a good And now I come to the point. It is to dairywoman, but the housemaid was a the education of the children that we poor hand without her mistress to oversee must look for the future safety of our her work. If they had help enough, he country, even after the blood of our mar- should want Marion to come and stay tyrs on Southern soil has washed out the awhile to cheer them up. Aunt Maria stain of slavery. And the mothers are needed cheerful company much. Marion the educators of these children. They answered her uncle's letter immediately. may prepare themselves for the holy She had learned something about house. task, and watch over them with unwea- keeping since she was there, and if they ried vigilance and prayerful solicitude, or would accept her, she would come and they may leave them to all the evil influ- take care of Aunt Maria and oversee the ences of the world, without any safe housework, — perhaps learn to make butguard or protection. The last course ter and cheese. "Uncle John was delightwill bring about our ruin; the first will | ed, and three weeks after, when he met make us the saviours of the nation. her at Centreville depot, he kissed her Which will you be, Marion, a blessing with tears in his eyes, and said she was or curse to your country ?”

her father's girl and would make a smart Marion was silent. She was thinking woman yet. Aunt Maria gained rapidly of Frank Anvern's words. He said she under Marion's cheerful influence, and would do for the idle life of a million- when she got able to visit the kitchen, naire; that was equivalent to saying she she praised the order and neatness to her was not fitted for a useful life. Well, heart's content. Mary and Marion had she was not. Why should she blame entered upon their new life with the mothim ? Yet it was not her fault, as she to that “ What is worth doing at all is

worth doing well ; ” and Marion's first True,” replied Mary, “our mothers attempt at housekeeping for her uncle brought us up in showy idleness, but it proved that she had not failed in that dewas through mistaken kindness in them, partment. Her aunt herself, setting or rather a pride which claimed as high aside her long experience, could not have a place in society for their children as done better. there was; and in the present false state The summer passed rapidly. Hal had of things, I do not wonder at them. But kept up a correspondence with Frank we know now what is right, and it is for ever since he enlisted, and after Marion us to inaugurate a reform. You will came, his letters glowed with wonderful join me, Marion ?

accounts of her housekeeping abilities, Yes, Mary, for my reason is con- her kind care of his mother, etc., and vinced ;' but we shall be laughed at.” that now she was taking lessons in mak

Only the foolish will laugh, and even ing butter and cheese. they will honor us if we persevere. They

Marion was ignorant of this ; but Hal will laugh most if we fail.”

always read Frank's letters to his parents « It was from Ernest that you got l in her presence, especially when he men.

told Mary.

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first he was much embarrassed, but soon songs you used to sing me.

I have grew eloquent and interesting. After tea yearned for your love and sympathy as they returned to the parlor, and talked only those do who have none to love until the great harvest moon absorbed the them.” gathering twilight, and shone through the “Then," said Marion, softly, wiping large windows, filling the room with a the tears from her cheeks, “I will wait strange, rare brilliance. Suddenly Frank for you to fight your country's battles. turned and asked Marion for some of the If you are sick or wounded, I will come songs she used to sing. After she had to you; if you fall, I will mourn for sung her best ones, Uncle John, Aunt you; but if a merciful Providence spares Maria, and the children, one after anoth- your life, come to me after the war, with er, withdrew, and still Frank sat looking your love unchanged, and I will be yours. at Marion, who, in her white robe, with Will that do ?violets in her hair, looked very lovely in What more could he ask? the silvery moonlight. At last he went More than a year has passed since then, to her side and took her hand as rev- and Frank Anvern and Ernest Steele are erently as a Catholic would touch his still in the army. They have as yet

Voice and hand trembled as he passed unscathed through many a fearful spoke,

strife where none were braver than they. “ Marion, a year ago I loved you too They know that loving ones are praying, well for my peace, but I thought” – he working, and waiting for them at home; paused. What should he say to excuse they are fighting for them, and why not .himself to hér? He grew confused, and be brave ? looked at Marion. She was quiet and

that good may not come unmoved, and cold, apparently, as the sil- of this war, aside from the great end. ver light which enveloped her.

Will it not awaken many from their idle “She despises me,” he thought, and slumbers, with senses steeped in luxury, most earnestly did he wish himself in his to a solemn realization of their duties us tent by the Potomac. What a fool to rational, responsible beings? It should think she ever cared for him; or if she be so. No doubt there are many Marys had, that she would ever forgive that and Marions in the North to-day. speech! The perspiration started out all over him, and dropping her hand with a motion of genuine despair, he turned

A BEAUTIFUL THOUGHT. — When I away. Marion laid her hand upon his gaze into the stars, they look down upon

me with pity from their serene and silent “Do you think I know enough to be a spaces, like eyes glistening with tears over

the little lot of man. farmer's wife now, Frank ?" she said, a

Thousands of gensmile just dimpling the corners of her erations, all as noisy as our own, have mouth.

been swallowed by time, and there re“You are ungenerous, Marion, to mains no record of them any more, yet taunt me with those foolish, wicked words. Arcturus and Orion, Sirius and Pleiades Is it not enough to make me feel that you are still shining in their courses, clear and

Who can say

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SEVEN TIMES ONE.

JEAN INGELOW'S POEMS.

Ah, I am not to be tempted into telling By E, A. M.

the story of “The Letter L." Songs I HAVE supped with the gods on am- tiful and touching. It is in seven parts ;

of Seven” is unique, and strangely beaubrosia and nectar! My heart hath been here is Part First.” made to laugh and my face to shine. I have felt the divinity stirred within me. Or, to speak in the language of soberness “There's no dew left on the daisies and clover, and strict veracity, I have read Jean In- There's no rain left in heaven; gelow's Poems, and I have wondered, I've said my seven times' over and over, Mistress Editor, that you have not treat- Seven times one are seven. ed your readers to a goblet of this rare vintage. There is one drawback certain “I am so old, — so old I can write a letter;

My birthday lessons are done; •ly, — the poems with a few exceptions are

The lambs play always ; they know no better; quite long. That, in Edgar A. Poe's es

They are only one times one. timation, would have been deemed a fault; but even he, exigeant critic as he “O moon! in the night I have seen you sailing, was, would have been troubled to find

And shining so round and low: flaws in this volume. Miss Ingelow is You were bright! ah, bright ! but your light is peculiarly happy in her nomenclature. A failing, sweet surprise lurks in ambuscade behind You are nothing now but a bow. “ Reflections,” and “Light and Shade"

“You moon, have you done something wrong is quite as deftly handled. I am not one

in heaven, of those who think “ A rose by any other

That God has hidden your face? name would smell as sweet.” I think

I hope if you have you will soon be forgiven, there is something in a name. And “

"The

And shine again in your place. Letter L” took my fancy captive at once. " What can it be about ? ” “Why should “O velvet bee, you're a dusty fellow, it be the letter L rather than the letter You've powdered your legs with gold! A, B, or C?Here is a taste of “The O brave marsh-mary buds, rich and yellow, Letter L,” a leaf plucked at random : Give me your money to hold ! “And oh, the buttercups ! that field

“O columbine ! open your folded wrapper, O'the cloth of gold, where pennons swam,

Where two twin turtle-doves dwell!
Where France sat up his lilied shield,

O cuckoo-pint, tell me the purple clapper
His oriflamb,

That hangs in your clear green bell !
And Henry's lion-standard rolled, -

And show me your nest with the young ones What was it to their matchless sheen,

in it; Their million, million drops of gold

I will not steal them away;
Among the green'"

I am old ! you may trust me, linnet, linnet And this : a girl sits weaving a crown

I am seven times one to-day!” “Of orchis spires and daisies rank,

There, is it not exquisite? I have And ferny plumes but half uncurled;" given it entire. I had not the heart to “Weave on,' he said; and as she wove,

cut into the sweet, tender thing. I would We told how currents in the deep, like to pluck a posy from the first poem With branches from a lemon grove,

in the book, called “ Divided,” but it is Blue bergs will sweep.

too long to give in full, and as each verse

is sweeter than the other, I should grow “ And messages from shipwrecked folk

one.

themselves, while reading it. I have friend at home. A cluster of violets, a quite fallen in love with my own name. few white daisies, a sprig of mignonette

knotted with ribbon-grass. At least I A sweeter woman ne'er drew breath

have pushed open the garden-gate, and Than my sonne's wife, Elizabeth.”

those who like the glimpse of the enclos“Oh, come in life, or come in death ! ure thus seen may enter and gather each Oh, lost, my love, Elizabeth!”

for himself.

Pittsburg, Pa. “ And didst thou visit him no more? Thou didst, thou didst my daughter deare;

MELANCHOLY DAYS.
The waters laid thee at his doore,

By [Mrs. H. L. Bostwick.
Ere yet the early dawn was clear.
Thy pretty bairns in fast embrace,

“THE melancholy days are come,” The lifted sun shone on thy face,

wrote Bryant, long ago, of the “autumn Downe drifted to thy dwelling-place." time," and his words have found an an

But “ A Dead Year” and “Requiescat in there is also a spring melancholy, which,

nual echo in thousands of hearts. Pace” are the most purely imaginative though of shorter duration it may be, and pieces in the volume. The dream in the less morbid in character, allows few, I belatter is weird. A girl at the seaside lieve, entirely to escape its visitations. dreams out the fate of an absent loved

In some old poetic legend I have read,

this is accounted for by supposing that “I looked up at the lighthouse all roofless and the spirit of Beauty and Melody returnstorm-broken,

ing to earth after a winter's absence, and A great white bird sat on it with neck taking her customary possession of inanstretched out to sea.

imate nature, sometimes mistakenly Unto somewhat which was sailing in a skiff the knocks for admission at the door of hubird had spoken,

man bosoms, and that the heart, unAnd a trembling seized my spirit, for they able from its manifold imperfections to talked of me.”

give entrance or audience to the invisible

pleader, grows restless and sorrowful, and The thing in the skiff holds a conver

unconsciously mourns the departure of sation with the white bird.

the beautiful spirit, for whose accommo“I said, “That thing is hooded ;' I could hear dation it had, alas ! made no provision. but that floweth

This is touching and poetical, far more The great hood below its mouth; then the so than the theories by which physiol. bird made reply,

ogists and lecturers on dietetics might *If they know not more's the pity; for the lit

seek to account for the dim sense of optle shrewmouse knoweth,

pression and foreboding that so often And the kite knows, and the eagle, and the creeps over the spirit at the approach of glead, and pye.'

warm weather. Is not that poetry? And this :

Poetry aside, it is undoubtedly true

that attention to certain sanitary cautions “Men must die when all is said, — e’en the respecting diet, exercise, etc., at this rekite and glead know it;

laxing season, cannot safely be dispensed And the lad's father knew it, and the lad, the with, if one would keep vigor of body and lad, too;

tone of mind unimpaired. And if it be It was never kept a secret; waters bring it and not susceptible of proof that the power of winds blow it;

memory

and association is most active at And he met it on the mountain; why then make this period, there is no question that our ado ?

disturbed physical condition makes us Glancing over what I have written, I more susceptible to their influence. feel regret, as one might on leaving a I have been led to this train of thought rare garden, who can carry away but one by a day of “spring sadness,” a haunted little bouquet in his hand, to the dear day,- haunted not by the scent of May blooms, nor the droning of bees, nor the God make us more thoughtful, more pachatter of home-seeking birds, but by the tient, more tender toward the living than memory of the dead, tender, yet very we have been to the dead!” mournful.

It is for this cause, then, that these One year ago, a beloved one whose al- soft May hours are haunted hours to me, most imperceptible fading we had watch and the sunny places where the flowers ed for many months, sank so rapidly at open, haunted places : last that her final departure, though long expected, fell upon us like a sudden “ O Death ! thou teacher true and rough, stroke. A little while before her death, How oft I fear that we have erred,

And have not loved enough." she had expressed a wish to see once more the early wild-fowers it had been her delight to gather in other Mays, and

HOMEWARD BOUND. which she knew were then springing

By Abby E. Remington. freshly in every grove and glen. The wish grew to be almost a longing, yet Far out on the sea is a tossing bark, from some cause its gratification was de- Remembered in dreams and followed by · ferred.

prayers; Suddenly she grew worse, and all No ship ever sailed on the heaving deep thought was now centred in an agonizing With burden more precious than that which dread of the last parting, now so near.

she bears. She never rallied, but went from earth in No cargo of spices from Indian isles, the gush and glory of its springtime,

No laces or jewels worth thousands of gold; without that last coveted greeting from The freightage she carries to-day outweighs the sweet dwellers by the woods and wa

Such perishing treasures a million times tercourses, whose brightness and fra

told, grance would have been to her like a foretaste of heaven.

The hopes love has garnered for years to come, Yesterday I visited her grave, and lo!

Sweet dreams of repose in the evening of life, the kindly providing of Nature! All The promise of peace for a restless heart, around and above her narrow house

Safe shelter at last from a wearying strife. bloomed the beautiful things she had so Steer homeward, brave helmsman; the hour is loved and longed for. Spring-beauties, violets white and blue, "star-eyed inno- For which thou hast waited so many long cence,” milk-white anemones

years;

The goal which, at parting, thine eyes beheld “Meekly gemmed the sod

Grow dim in the distance now rapidly nears. Of her whose spirit blooms with God.”

Less 'proud, but more loving, with guileless Nature, — true, loving mother, — she

heart, is never heedless; she never postpones,

She sits all alone in her home by the sea, she never forgets! Alas! to me every Who once, in her beautiful girlhood, gave flower had a thorn, and the pang that

Her deepest and purest affection to thee. followed could scarce have been more poignant had the neglect been, instead of She watches with patience, and never a doubt simple wild blossoms, that of some

Has troubled the calm of her innocent eyes; medicinal leaf,” which should have saved With Faith as a handmaid and Duty as guide, to us that precious life.

The love in her heart neither slumbers nor Ah, how often is it thus! How often

dies. by the grave of Love, some half-forgotten

Then spread the white canvas ! the part in sight, beglect or unkindness comes back to our

No tempest shall harm thee, no storm shall hearts, a barbed arrow that we must car

grow dark; ry for many days without relief. How Speed, speed o'er the waves like a freed wild often we are fain to cry with full eyes bird, and trembling lips, "God forgive us ! And moor in the haven thy swift-sailing bark

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