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And, says he, when he finished, uprising

An' lifting his blue eyes above, “ Dear Lord Jesus, oh, take me to heaven,

Back again to my own mother's love!”
For a minute or two, like a magic,

We stood every man like the dead;
Then back to the mate's face comes running

The life-blood again, warm and red.
Off his feet was that lad sudden lifted,

And clasped to the mate's rugged breast ; And his husky voice muttered “God bless you!”

As his lips to his forehead he pressed.
If the ship hadn't been a good sailer,

And gone by herself right along,
All had gone to Old Davy; for all, lads,

Was gathered 'round in that throng.
Like a man, says the mate, “God forgive me,

That ever I used you so hard.
It's myself as had ought to be strung up,

Taut and sure, to that ugly old yard."
“ You believe me then?" said the youngster.

“Believe you!” He kissed him once more. “You'd have laid down your life for the truth, lad

Believe you! From now, evermore!”
An' p'raps, mates, he wasn't thought much on

All that day and the rest of the trip;
P’raps he paid after all for his passage;

Pr’aps he wasn't the pet of the ship.
An' if that little chap ain't a model,

For all, young or old, short or tall,
And if that ain't the stuff to inake men of,

Old Ben, he knows naught after all.

OUR OWN.-MARGARET E. SANGSTER.
If I bad known in the morning
How wearily all the day

The words unkind

Would trouble my mind
I said when you went away,
I had been more careful, darling,

Nor given you needless pain;
But we vex
with look and tone

We might never take back again.
DDDD*

our own

For though in the quiet evening
You may give me the kiss of peace,

Yet it might be

That never for me
The pain of the heart should cease.
How many go forth in the morning

That never come home at night!
And hearts have broken
For harsh words spoken,

That sorrow can ne'er set right.
We have careful thoughts for the stranger,
And smiles for the sometime griest,

But oft for “

The bitter tone,
Though we love“ our own" the best.
Ah, lips with the curve impatient !

Ah, brow with that look of scorn!
'Twere a cruel fate,
Were the night too late

To undo the work of morn.

our own

PASSING UNDER THE ROD.-MARY S. B, Dana.

“Whom the Lord loveth, Ho chasteneth." I saw a young bride, in her beauty and pride,

Bedeck'd in her snowy array ;
And the bright flush of joy mantled high on her cheek,

And the future looked blooming and gay:
And with woman's devotion she laid her fond heart

At the shrine of idolatrous love,
And she anchor'd her hopes to this perishing earth,

By the chain which her tenderness wove.
But I saw when those heartstrings were bleeding and torn,

And the chain had been sever'd in two,
She had changed her white robes for the sables of grief,

And her bloom for the paleness of woe!
But the Healer was there, pouring balm on her heart,

And wiping the tears from her eyes,
And he strengthen'd the chain he had broken in twain,

And fasten'd it firm to the skies ! There had whisper'd a voice—'t was the voice of her God, “I love thee-I love thee-pass under the rod!I saw a young mother in tenderness bend

O'er the couch of her slumbering boy,
And she kiss'd the soft lips as they murmurd her name,

While the dreamer lay smiling in joy:
Oh, sweet as the rose-bud encircled with dew,

When its fragrance is flung on the air,

So fresh and so bright to that mother he seem’d,

As he lay in his innocence there.
But I saw when she gazed on the same lovely form,

Pale as marble, and silent, and cold,
But paler and colder her beautiful boy,

And the tale of her sorrow was told !
But the Healer was there who had stricken her heart

And taken her treasure away,
To allure her to heaven he has placed it on high,

And the mourner will sweetly obey :
There had whisper'd a voice-'twas the voice of her God,
I love thee-I love thee-pass under the rod!
I saw a fond brother, with glances of love,

Gazing down on a gentle young girl,
And she hung on his arm, and breathed soft in his ear,

As he played with each graceful curl.
Oh, he loved the sweet tones of her silvery voice,

Let her use it in sadness or glee;
And he twined his arms round her delicate form,

As she sat in the eve on his knee.
But I saw when he gazed on her death-stricken face,

And she breathed not a word in his ear,
And he clasped his arms round an icy-cold form,

And he moistened her cheek with a tear.
But the Healer was there, and he said to him thus,

“Grieve not for thy sister's short life,”
And he gave to his arms still another fair girl,

And he made her his own cherished wife!
There had whisper'd a voice—'twas the voice of his God,
“I love thee- I love thee-pass under the rod!
I saw too a father and mother who lean'd

On the arms of a dear gifted son,
And the star in the future grew bright to their gaze,

As they saw the proud place he had won:
And the fast-coming evening of life promised fair,

And its path way grew smooth to their feet,
And the starlight of love glimmered bright at the end,

And the whispers of fancy were sweet.
And I saw them again, bending low o'er the grave,

Where their hearts' dearest hopes had been laid, And the star had gone down in the darkness of night,

And the joy from their bosoms had fled.
But the Healer was there, and his arms were around,

And he led them with tenderest care:
And he showed them a star in the bright upper world,

'Twas their star shining brilliantly there! They had each heard a voice—'twas the voice of their God, I love thee- I love thee---pass under the rod!

ASKING THE GOV'NER. Smith had just asked Mr. Thompson's daughter if she would give him a lift out of the slough of bachelordom, and she had said “yes.”

It therefore became necessary to get the old gentleman's permission, so, as Smith said, arrangements might be made to hop the conjugal twig.

Smith said he'd rather pop the interrogatory to all of old Thompson's daughters, and his sisters, and his lady-cousins, and his aunt Hannah in the country, and the whole of his female relations, than ask old Thompson. But it had to be done, and so he went down and studied out a speech which he was to disgorge at old Thompson the very first time he set eyes on him. So Smith dropped in on hiin one Sunday evening, when all the family had meandered around to chapel, and found him doing a sum in beer measure.

“ How are you, Smith ?” said old Thompson, as the former walked in, white as a piece of chalk, and trembling as if he had swallowed a condensed earthquake. Smith was afraid to answer, 'cause he wasn't sure about that speech. He knew he had to keep his grip on it while he had it there, or it would slip from him quicker than an oiled eel through an auger hole. So he blurted out:

“Mr. Thompson, sir; perhaps it may not be unknown to you that, during an extended period of some five years, I have been busily engaged in the prosecution of a commercial enterprise_”

“ Is that so, and keepin' it a secret all this time, while I thought you were keepin' shop? Well, by George, you're a 'cute soul, ain't you?”

Smith had to begin and think it over again, to get the run of it:

“Mr. Thompson, sir; perhaps it may not be unknown to you that, during the extended period of five years, I have been busily engaged in the prosecution of a commercial enterprise, with the determination to secure a sufficient maintenance"

“Sit down, Smith, and help yourself to beer. Don't stand there holding your hat like a blind beggar with paralysis.

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I never have seen you behave yourself so queer in all my born days."

Smith had been knocked out again, and so he had to wander back to take a fresh start:

“Mr. Thompson, sir; it may not be unknown to you that, during an extended period of five years, I have been engaged in the prosecution of a commercial enterprise, with the determination to procure a sufficient maintenance," “Well ?” asked old Thompson, but Smith went on:

In the hope that some day I might enter wedlock, and bestow my earthly possessions upon one whom I could call my own. I have been a lonely man, sir, and have felt that it is not good for a man to be alone; therefore I would—”

Neither is it ; I'm glad you came in. How's your father?” “Mr. Thompson, sir;” said Smith, in despairing confusion, raising his voice to a yell, “it may not be unknown to you that, during an extended period of a lonely man, I have been engaged to enter wedlock, and bestowed all my enterprise on one whom I could determine to be good for certain possessions-no, I mean, that is-Mr. Thompson, sir; it may not be unknown"

"And then, again, it may. Look here, Smith ; you'd better lay down and take something warm, you ain't well.”

Smith's eyes stuck wildly out of his head with embarrassment, but he went on again :

“Mr. Thompson, sir; it may not be lonely to you to prosecute me whom a friend, for a commercial maintenance, but -but-eh-dang it--Mr. Thompson, sir: It—"

“Oh, Smith, you talk like a fool. I never saw a more firstclass idiot in the course of my whole life. What's the matter with you, anyhow?"

“Mr. Thompson, sir; said Smith, in an agony of bewilderment, “it may not be unknown that you prosecuted a lonely man who is not good for a commercial period of wedlock for some five years, but—"

“See here, Smith, you're drunk, and if you can't behave better than that, you'd better leave; if you don't, I'll chuck you out, or I'm a Dutchman.”

“Mr. Thompson, sir ;” said Smith, frantic with despair, "it may not be known to you that my earthly possessions

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