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Lone Glen Dun an' the wild glen-flowers,
Little ye know if the prairie is sweet.
Roses for miles, an' redder than ours,

Spring here undher the horses' feet-
Aye, an' the black-eyed gold sun-flowers,
Not as the glen-flowers small an' sweet.

Wathers o' Moyle, I hear ye callin'

Clearer for half o' the world between,
Antrim hills an' the wet rain fallin'

Whiles ye are nearer than snow tops keen:
Dreams o' the night an' a night wind callin',
What is the half o' the world between?


Sure this is blessed Erin an' this the same glen,

The gold is on the whin-bush, the wather sings again,
The Fairy Thorn 's in flower,-an' what ails my heart then?

Flower o' the May,

Flower o' the May,

What about the May time, an' he far away!

Summer loves the green glen, the white bird loves the sea, An' the wind must kiss the heather top, an' the red bell hides a bee;

As the bee is dear to the honey-flower, so one is dear to me.

Flower o' the rose,

Flower o' the rose,

A thorn pricked me one day, but nobody knows.

The bracken up the braeside has rusted in the air,
Three birches lean together, so silver limbed an' fair,
Och! golden leaves are flyin' fast, but the scarlet roan is rare

Berry o' the roan,

Berry o' the roan,

The wind sighs among the trees, but I sigh alone.

I knit beside the turf fire, I spin upon the wheel,
Winter nights for thinkin' long, round runs the reel...

But he never knew, he never knew that here for him I'd kneel,

Sparkle o' the fire,

Sparkle o' the fire,

Mother Mary, keep my love, an' send me my desire!


Och, when we lived in ould Glenann
Meself could lilt a song!

An' ne'er an hour by day or dark
Would I be thinkin' long.

The weary wind might take the roof,
The rain might lay the corn;
We'd up an' look for betther luck
About the morrow's morn.

But since we come away from there
An' far across the say,

I still have wrought, an' still have thought
The way I'm doin' the day.

An' now we're quarely betther fixed,
In troth! there's nothin' wrong:
But me an' mine, by rain an' shine
We do be thinkin' long.


L. T. MEADE was born at Bandon, County Cork, the daughter of the Rev. R. T. Meade. She married in 1879 Mr. Toulmin Smith, and has one son and two daughters. Later she went to London, working at the British Museum, living in the East End and studying its social problems. She wrote her first book at seventeen, and now is among the most voluminous of living writers. The list of her works is a very long one. Mrs. Meade's lot must be counted happy. She is beloved of little girls and of some girls well on in their teens. She has an immense popularity; and she knows how to write of and for girls with great charm and truth.

She edited the girls' magazine, Atalanta, for six years. In her hands it was an ideal magazine for its purpose. Besides stories for girls, Mrs. Meade is constantly engaged in writing novels. Among many other works she has written (some alone, some in collaboration): Scamp and I,' the first to bring her popularity; Daddy's Boy,' A World of Girls,' The Medicine Lady,'Stories from the Diary of a Doctor,' The Way of a Woman,' Bad Little Hannah,' Wild Kitty,'' The Rebellion of Lil Carrington,' 1898; Mary Gifford,' 1898; The Cleverest Woman in England,' 1898; 'The Girls of St. Wode's,' 1898; The Brotherhood of the Seven Kings,' 1898 ; All Sorts,' An Adventuress,' 'The Sanctuary Club,' 'A Race with the Sun,'Daddy's Girl,' A Princess of the Gutter,' 'Wages,' Wheels of Iron,' The Blue Diamond,' Voices of the Past,' and 'Drift.'

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From A World of Girls.'

It was a proverbial saying in the school that Annie Forest was always in hot water; she was exceedingly daring and loved what she called a spice of danger. This was not the first stolen picnic at which Annie reigned as queen, but this was the largest she had yet organized, and this was the first time she had dared to go out of doors with her satellites.

Hitherto these naughty sprites had been content to carry their baskets full of artfully concealed provisions to a disused attic which was exactly over the box-room, and consequently out of reach of the inhabited part of the house. Here, making a table of a great chest which stood in the attic, they feasted gloriously, undisturbed by the musty smell or by the innumerable spiders and beetles which disappeared rapidly in all directions at their ap

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proach; but when Annie one day incautiously suggested that on summer nights the outside world was all at their disposal, they began to discover flaws in their banquetinghall. Mary Price said the musty smell made her half sick; Phyllis declared that at the sight of a spider she invariably turned faint; and Susan Drummond was heard to murmur that in a dusty, fusty attic even meringues scarcely kept her awake. The girls were all wild to try a midnight picnic out of doors, and Annie in her present mood, was only too eager for the fun.

With her usual skill she organized the whole undertaking, and eight agitated, slightly frightened, but much excited girls retired to their rooms that night. Annie, in her heart of hearts, felt rather sorry that Mrs. Willis should happen to be away; dim ideas of honor and trustworthiness were still stirring in her breast, but she dared not think now.

The night was in every respect propitious; the moon would not rise until after twelve, so the little party could get away under the friendly shelter of the darkness, and soon afterwards have plenty of light to enjoy their stolen feast. They had arranged to make no movement until close on midnight, and then they were all to meet in a passage which belonged to the kitchen regions, and where there was a side door which opened directly into the shrubbery. This door was not very often unlocked, and Annie had taken the key from its place in the lock some days before. She went to bed with her companions at nine o'clock as usual, and presently fell into an uneasy doze. She awoke to hear the great clock in the hall strike eleven, and a few minutes afterwards she heard Miss Danesbury's footsteps retiring to her room at the other end of the passage.

"Danesbury is always the last to go to bed," whispered Annie to herself; "I can get up presently."

She lay for another twenty minutes, then, softly rising, began to put on her clothes in the dark. Over her dress she fastened her waterproof, and placed a close-fitting brown velvet cap on her curly head. Having dressed herself, she approached Susan's bed, with the intention of rousing her.

"I shall have fine work now," she said, "and shall probably have to resort to cold water. Really, if Susy proves

too hard to wake, I shall let her sleep on-her drowsiness is past bearing."

Annie, however, was considerably startled when she discovered that Miss Drummond's bed was without an occupant.

At this moment the room door was very softly opened, and Susan, fully dressed and in her waterproof, came in.

"Why, Susy, where have you been?" exclaimed Annie. "Fancy you being awake a moment before it is necessary!"

“For once in a way I was restless," replied Miss Drummond, "so I thought I would get up, and take a turn in the passage outside. The house is perfectly quiet, and we can come now; most of the girls are already waiting at the side door."

Holding their shoes in their hands, Annie and Susan went noiselessly down the carpetless stairs, and found the remaining six girls waiting for them by the side door.

"Rover is our one last danger now," said Annie, as she fitted the well-oiled key into the lock. "Put on your shoes, girls, and let me out first; I think I can manage him."

She was alluding to a great mastiff which was usually kept chained up by day. Phyllis and Norah laid their hands on her arm.


Oh, Annie, oh, love, suppose he seizes on you, and knocks you down-oh, dare you venture?"

"Let me go," said Annie a little contemptuously; "you don't suppose I am afraid?"

Her fingers trembled, for her nerves were highly strung; but she managed to unlock the door and draw back the bolts, and, opening it softly, she went out into the silent night.

Very slight as the noise she made was, it had aroused the watchful Rover, who trotted around swiftly to know what was the matter. But Annie had made friends with Rover long ago by stealing to his kennel door and feeding him, and she had now but to say "Rover" in her melodious voice, and throw her arms around his neck, to completely subvert his morals.


"He is one of us, girls," she called in a whisper companions; "come out. come out. Rover will be as naughty as the rest of us, and go with us as our body-guard to the fairies' field. Now, I will lock the door on the outside, and

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