Not heard upon thy trial. This brute beast A VETERAN. MINNA IRVING. E stood before the village store, HE Unkempt and weary-eyed. His shabby harness here and there His knees were stiff, his coat was long,- The butt of many an idler's jest— The farmer's old gray steed. Across the hot and dusty square With every well-remembered note Of trumpets with their crimson cords He seemed to see from far and near For oft upon a battle-field He heard the bugles blow, From floor to roof a glittering maze And flowers that bloom and gems that blaze, Below them in the sunlight space And, poising with a cool disdain His weapon for the fatal blow, A youth decked out in gorgeous wise. A murmurous hush, a breathless pause- A flash of scarlet drapery— A plunge-a bellowing roar-a cloud That rolled the echoing circle round; Rained on with flowers from fingers white A child sobbed softly in the crowd. She wept. "Alas, poor pretty bull!" One blossom, wet with tearful dew, And still all tongues the victor sang, D CONFESSION. EAR Pussy, I love you and I's your true friend, When cook missed her custard and everyone said It was Puss that had stealed it away; You know you are naughty sometimes, Pussy dear, And cook took a stick, and she 'clared she would beat But I didn't feel comf'able down in my heart, So I saved you the whippin', you see, 'Cause I went to mamma, and telled her I 'spect she'd better tell cook to whip me, And it wouldn't be fair to whip Pussy, in course, 66 Was it my little girlie?" my dear mamma said. I felt dreffely scared but I nodded my head, And then mamma laughed. Go find nurse, for I guess I HE HELD HER HANDS. HOLD her hands. The lamp's soft ray Among her tresses' golden strands; This is the picture that expands, And memory-sprites lift up their wands. If I let go the truth to say On the piano she will play Those tunes she learned from the brass bands. D A CHRISTMAS LETTER. JAMES COURTNEY CHALLISS. EAREST PHYLLIS,—Pray remember, when you're making up the list Of your presents for December (unless I am to be missed), That I've slippers, picture-brackets, smoking-sets of various types, Half-a-dozen smoking-jackets, thirty-seven meerschaum pipes! Twenty patent" kid glove menders," collar boxes by the score, Of embroidered silk suspenders, forty-'leven pairs or more; That each year since I was twenty I've received a paperweight; Have pen-wipers, inkstands plenty, paper-cutters-twentyeight; That I've Browning and Longfellow by the hundreds-every kind, Shakespeare-black and blue and yellow, Milton till I'm nearly blind! So there's just one present only that I'm wanting, in this year Of my bachelorship so lonely-that's yourself, my Phyllis dear. A CASE OF SPOONS AND BROTHER TOM. IT T'S my brother again," said the girl with the ostrich boa, as she sank into a chair, "but I'll get even with him, if it takes me the rest of my natural life to do it!" The girl in the pink waist yawned. 66 How often must I tell you never to ask him for money unless at least one of the other girls is present?" she asked. "It isn't money this time. It is spoons. I” I You never let Marie help him to select your birthday present, I hope. She is a nice, sweet girl as long as there is not a man within sight, but I wouldn't trust her to-to help a widower select a tombstone for his wife's grave." |