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Yet not mountains of silver and gold could suffice
One pearl to outweigh-'twas Tue PEARL OF GREAT PRICE.
Last of all the whole world was bowled in at the grate
With the soul of a beggar to serve for a weight,
When the former sprang up with so strong a rebuff

,
That it made a vast rent and escaped at the roof!
When balanced in air it ascended on high,
And sailed up aloft, a balloon in the sky;
While the scale with the soul in't so mightily fell,
That it jerked the philosopher out of his cell.

MORAL.

Dear reader, if e'er self-deception prevails,
We pray you to try The Philosopher's Scales :
But if they are lost in the ruins around,
Perhaps a good substitute thus may be found :-
Let judgment and conscience in circles be cut,
To which strings of thought may be carefully put:
Let these be made even with caution extreme,
And impartiality use for a beam:
Then bring those good actions which pride overrates,
And tear up your motives to serve for the weights.

THE UNPAID SEAMSTRESS.-A NOTE OF WARNING.

"Error is wrought by want of thought,

As well as of the heart." She was but an average American girl. But on this last day of girlhood, when her face beamed with love and her tears and smiles seemed frolicking with each other, she was very pretty and sweet.

The house was full of kinsfolk, and bustle and merriment and life-long mates, who came with good wishes, good byes and bridal gifts.

And on that morning came a lone woman; thin and pale, weary and worn she was. Very quietly she lay down her heavy bundle.

“ I could not leave Mamie, last night, to bring them,” she said gently.

“Oh, I knew you'd come; you never disappoint anybody," said the happy girl opening the bundle. “How beautifully you have made them! Kate, Louise, see how nicely Mrs. Allen sews.”

“I speak for your needle when I get married !" cried one.

LLLL

“And I !" laughed the other.

Mrs. Allen heeded not, scarcely heard. All about her brought back so vividly the little while ago when she too stood between the old life and the new, and her whole soul quivered with happiness; when she too leaned, with a full love and trust, on one-good, kind, and true. Then she heard that shrill whistle of the proud locomotive; saw it bound down the deep, dark gorge; heard those shrieks and moans and groans. Then she thought of that grave, flower-covered now, where, with a breaking heart, she had laid that broken body, thanking God her own beloved would suffer no more, and thence came forth to suffer alone. Then came a sweet thought of that dear little girl who, iu that hour of bitter sorrow, was her joy; for whom she lived on then, and for whom (since in the panic, her means had all been lost) she had labored. As thoughts of her--her stimulant, her idol, her all -came upon her, she roused herself to hear:

“I am very much pleased with your work, Mrs. Allen, and I am sorry,—but, really, money slips through one's fingers so at such a time, I haven't any to pay you. Come around to-morrow, and mother will pay you, and give you some flowers and goodies for Mamie.”

In a dazed way, Mrs. Allen, half sick and heart-sick, turned to go, but could not, and said falteringly:

“Mamie is sick, and I did hope to get something for her.”

“ It is too bad! Please go into the store and ask father to pay you. Tell him I sent you."

Mrs. Allen went to the store and asked for the father. He was not in; no one knew where he was. With a slow step, for the heavy heart she took back weighed her down more than the bundle she brought out, she turned to her home. Bewildered by her hopelessness and need of food, life seemed a burden she could bear no longer, and as she crossed her threshold she sank down. But a sweet voice called :

“Mamma, dear mamma, what have you brought me to eat ?"

Love winged her tired feet and she went to a neighbor near,-one who had always been kind to and thoughtful for her. She had never begged, and now she would but borrow, The neighbor had gone to get a present for the bride. She went down to the road, looked up and down, then deliberately turned back, asked for pencil and paper and wrote it all.

The neighbor came in late. It had not been easy to find anything the like of which had not been selected by some one; the teapot was smoking and she was chilled, and the family impatient. So tea was over and toilets commencer as quickly as possible.

The church and the home were dressed with flowers; the bride never looked so well; the presents were a very medley of rich and simple, useful and useless, delicate and common, but by their number a flattery and a charm. And life and light and joy was in all and over all.

The morning of so bright a night found all the town weary and duil and lazy. Over late breakfasts they reviewed the last evening. Half-envious criticisms of dress, sarcastic imitation of manners, just and unjust, took the place of the honeyed praises and sweet smiles of the last night.

And the heavens, too, were changed. Where shone the crescent moon and the brilliant stars now were cloud masses charged with snow. Slowly and calmly the storm com: menced, heavy and thick it grew. The fierce wind came up and caught the little flakes and hurled them and whirled them about. All the day long, all the night long, earth and air and sky were snow; and nought could be heard but the howling winds.

Much of the dull day and all the night the neighbor had slept, and with bright eyes and rested body, looked out on the clear, broad, unbroken expanse-pure, clean, white, and dazzling in the sunbeams,-looked across to Mrs. Allen's cottage, and at breakfast said to her husband :

“As soon as the snow-ploughs have been along, I wish you would send John over to dig Mrs. Allen's path.”

Certainly, certainly. No woman could dig through thus snow.”

"She just looked sick-a-bed when she was afther writin' her letter to yez,” spoke the girl.

Writing a letter to me! When ?" “When ye's afther buyin’yer prisent.” Wh; didn't you tell me ?" Faith, ma'am, I put it on the rack, where ye’s always tells She could scarcely read it through her tear-dimmed eyes.

me to."

* Go get it."

"No food, no fire-two days ago! And this fearful storm! Why haven't I seen to her? I might have known she wouldn't heg. Oh, I wish I had given her the money I spent on that thoughtless girl !"

The unfinished breakfast was left, and her husband, as anxious as she, with his man, both loaded with food and wood, tramped and shoveled a path through which she waded across with steaming coffee.

They found on the bed, with closed eyes, composed limbs, and hands folded across the breast, the loved Mamie. And by her the mother, turned to ice, kneeling, with clasped hands, up turned eyes, and tear-drops frozen upon her cheeks.

THE PUZZLED CENSUS-TAKER.-John G. SAXE.
“ NEIN

(pronounced XINE) is the German for "No."
“Got any boys?" the marshal said

To a lady from over the Rhine;
And the lady shook her flaxen head,

And civilly answered, “Nein!"
“Got any girls ?” the marshal said

To the lady from over the Rhine;
And again the lady shook her head,

And civilly answered, “Nein !"
“But some are dead ?” the marshal said

To the lady from over the Rhine;
And again the lady shook her head,

And civilly answered, “Nein !"
"Husband, of course," the marshal said

To the lady from over the Rhine;
And again she shook her flaxen head,

And civilly answered, “Nein !"
“The devil you have !" the marshal said

To the lady from over the Rhine;
And again she shook her flaxen head,

And civilly answered, “Nein!"
“Now, what do you mean by shaking your head,

And always answering. Nie??"
* Ich kann nicht Englisch."' civilly said

The lady from over the Rhine.

PAPA'S LETTER.

I was sitting in my study,

Writing letters, when I heard, “Please, dear mamma, Mary told me

Mamma mustn't be 'isturbed. “But I'se tired of the kitty,

Want some ozzer fing to do. Witing letters, is 'ou, mamma?

Tan't I wite a letter too?"

“Not now, darling, mamma's busy;

Run and play with kitty, now.'
"No, no, mamma, me wite letter:

Tan if'ou will show me how."
I would paint my darling's portrait

As his sweet eyes searched my face Hair of gold and eyes of azure,

Form of childish, witching grace. But the eager face was clouded,

As I slowly shook my head, Till I said, “I'll make a letter

Of you, darling boy, instead.” So I parted back the tresses

From his forehead high and white, And a stamp in sport I pasted

'Mid its waves of golden light. Then I said, “Now, little letter,

Go away and bear good news.” And I smiled as down the staircase Clattered loud the little shoes. Leaving me, the darling hurried

Down to Mary in his glee,
“Mamma's witing lots of letters;

I'se a letter, Mary-see!"
No ne heard the little prattle,

As once more he climbed the stair,
Reached his little cap and tippet,

Standing on the entry stair.
No one heard the front door open,

No one saw the golden hair,
As it floated o'er his shoulders

In the crisp October air.

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