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We sent it back, then cast sad eyes upon the scene around, A baby's hand had touched the ties that brothers once had
bound. That's all-save when the dawn awoke again the work of
hell, And through the sullen clouds of smoke the screaming mis
siles fell, Our general often rubbed his glass, and marveled much to see Not a single shell that whole day fell in the camp of Bat
I'M WITH YOU ONCE AGAIN.-GEO.P. MORRIS.
I'm with you once again, my friends,
No more my footsteps roam ;
Amid the scenes of home.
Or streams so broad and clear,
As those that meet me here?
I pressed my native strand,
And many miles on land:
With rude coinmotion torn,
Of that where I was born.
• The language of my own,
Awoke an answering tone!
Upon a foreign mart
With rapture thrilled my heart !
With blessing and with prayer,
And free as mountain air.
Against the world combined,
Within our borders find.
THE TRUE TEMPLE.
Not where high towers rear
Our humble prayers to hear,
Not where the lapsing hours
From proud cathedral towers;
Not where the chiseled stone,
Seem vast and chill and lone;
Not 'neath the vaulted dome, Or fretted roof, magnificently flung, O'er cushioned seats, or curtained desks o'erhung
With rare work of the loom;
Not where the sunlight falls From the stained oriel with a chastened shade, O'er sculptured tombs where mighty ones are laid,
Till the last trumpet calls;
Not where rich music floats Through the lushed air until the soul is stirred As 't were a chord from that bright land as heard
When angels swell the notes.
Perchance 'tis well to raise These palace temples, thus rich wrought, to Him Who 'midst His thousand thousand cherubims
Can stoop to list our praise.
Yet when our spirits bow
Light up the darkened brow?
O no!-God may be there-
With equal love and care.
Aye, wheresoe'er on earth
There hath his spirit birth.
Our sins may be forgiven, As, weak and few, our prayers go up to God; E’en though our temple floor be earth's green sod,
Its roof the vault of heaven.
A KER CHEW DUET.
They had been keeping company a year. He told her Friday afternoon that he would be up early Sunday evening, as he had something of great importance to tell her, and a present to give her. With a woman's keen intuition she knew what that something of importance would be, and she looked forward to the hour with sweet expectations.
He was there on time, but hardly in the condition he desired. A heavy cold had tackled him the night before, and his eyes were red and inflamed, and his nose was nearly twice its usual size, and shone with a lustre that would have appeared to much better advantage on a doorplate. Singularly enough, the young lady was similarly conditioned. She ushered hiin into the parlor, and without any preliminary ceremony they were seated on the same sofa together. He took out his handkerchief and finding a dry section, wiped his nose. This reminded her of a duty she owed herself, and she attended to it at once. He held one of her hands in his, and his handkerchief in the other. Then he spoke:
Susad, I cub to dide to dalk to you of subthig dearer-ah ah-ooh (a prompt application of the handkerchief cut off the sneeze in its bud) dearer to be thad libe-ah ah-thad id-00ooh-ker chew, ker chew, ker chew.” A moment's pause. “I've god ad awful code,” he explains, with due solemnity.
“Sobe I," she replies.
A moment is devoted to the silent use of the handkerchiefs, and then he continues :
“Darlig, you bust have seed all the tibe how mudge-oohoon-ker-(the handkerchief again saves him) how mudge I have thought ob you. Every hour ob the day or dide-ahah-ooh-ooh, ker chew, ker chew."
She wiped her eyes—and then her nose, and made an honest endeavor to look languishingly, but owing to the watery condition of the former, and the fiery glow of the latter, she appeared to an unhappy advantage. But he did not notice it.
“Susad,” he began again, grasping her hand with fervor, and clutching his bandkerchief with equal earnestness, “what
is libe without love? Dothig. Darlig, do you, cad you love be edough to be by-ah-ah-ooh-chew!”
“ You'll be bide, all bide?” he gasped.
He drew her to him, slipped the ring upon her finger, and there they stood together, their reddened and half closed eyes blinking in sweet, holy ecstasy upon each other.
"My poor darlig has god sudge a bad code,” he sympathizingly murmured.
“So id my Hedry,” she softly whispered back.
“You must take sub bedicid for that code, to dide," she said. “So bust you,” he added.
Yes, ad you'll soak your feet in hod wader ?” “I will; ad you'll soak yours ?” he eagerly asked. "I will,” she replied.
“ Heaved bless you, by darlig, by precious darlig,” clasping her again to his breast. And then he stole out into the darkness; and she lingered a moment at the door, and heard his dear voice ring out on the night air as he passed away
“Ker chew, ker chew.”
WET AND DRY.-CLARK JILLSON.
One Sunday morn good parson Jones,
Before the service hour,
Was troubled by a shower.
While peal on peal revolved;
And yet was not dissolved.
Without I feel the pain
Completely drenched with rain."
With voice a little gruff,
As preacher, dry enough."
THERE'S BUSINESS FOR ALL.-P. S. PENNML.
There's business for all in this world, my boy,
Though some folks find nothing to do;
And only may come to a few.
In a desert where grapes never grew,-
There's no business there, boy, for you.
Nor gold if for silver he sue,
Wake up boy! there's business for you.
The strength of the earth to renew;
She has business, boy, all the year through.
Demands that forever renew
For more than they're willing to do.
Temptation's flowers charming to view,
Stand guard boy! she's watching for you.
Goes down to the river of pain,
We call, but he comes not again.
You'll find what I tell you is true-
Of those who find nothing to do.
To wisdom's line,-close as you can,