One bright curl from its fair mates take, They were somebody's pride, you know: Somebody's hand had rested there,--

Was it a mother's soft and white? And have the lips of a sister fair

Been baptized in those waves of light?

God knows best; he has somebody's love; Somebody's heart enshrined him there; Somebody wafted his name above

Night and morn on the wings of prayer. Somebody wept when he marched away,

Looking so handsome, brave, and grand; Somebody's kiss on his forehead lay,

Somebody clung to his parting hand.

Somebody's waiting and watching for him Yearning to hold him again to the heart And there he lies with his blue eyes dim, And the smiling childlike lips apart. Tenderly bury the fair young dead,

Pausing to drop on his grave a tear; Carve on the wooden slab at his head,"Somebody's Darling slumbers here." MARIE R. LACOSTE.

THE CHILDREN.

WHEN the lessons and tasks are all ended,
And the school for the day is dismissed.
The little ones gather around me,

To bid me good-night and be kissed;
Oh, the little white arms that encircle
My neck in their tender embrace'
Oh, the smiles that are halos of heaven,
Shedding sunshine of love on my face!
And when they are gone I sit dreaming
Of my childhood too lovely to last;
Of joy that my heart will remember,

While it wakes to the pulse of the past, Ere the world and its wickedness made me A partner of sorrow and sin

When the glory of God was about me,
And the glory of gladness within.

All my heart grows as weak as a woman's,
And the fountains of feeling will flow,
When I think of the paths steep and stony,
Where the feet of the dear ones must go;
Of the mountains of sin hanging o'er them,
Of the tempest of Fate blowing wild;
Oh! there's nothing on earth half so holy
As the innocent heart of a child!

They are idols of hearts and of households;
They are angels of God in disguise;

His sunlight still sleeps in their tresses,
His glory still gleams in their eyes;
Those truants from home and from heaven-
They have made me more manly and mild;
And I know now how Jesus could liken
The kingdom of God to a child!

I ask not a life for the dear ones,

All radiant, as others have done,
But that life may have just enough shadow
To temper the glare of the sun;

I would pray God to guard them from evil,
But my prayer would bound back to myself;
Ah! a seraph may pray for a sinner,

But a sinner must pray for himself.

The twig is so easily bended,

I have banished the rule and the rod;

I have taught them the goodness of knowledge,
They have taught me the goodness of God'
My heart is the dungeon of darkness,
Where I shut them for breaking a rule;
My frown is sufficient correction;

My love is the law of the school.

I shall leave the old house in the autumn,
To traverse its threshold no more;
Ah! how I shall sigh for the dear ones,

That meet me each morn at the door!

I shall miss the "good-nights" and the kisses,
And the gush of their innocent glee,
The group on the green, and the flowers
That are brought every morning for me.

I shall miss them at morn and at even,
Their song in the school and the street;
I shall miss the low hum of their voices,
And the tread of their delicate feet.
When the lessons of life are all ended,

And Death says, "The school is dismissed!"

May the little ones gather around me

To bid me good-night and be kissed! CHARLES M. DICKINSON.

BE LIKE THE SUN.

BE like the sun, that pours its ray

To glad and glorify the day.

Be like the moon, that sheds its light
To bless and beautify the night.
Be like the stars, that sparkle on,
Although the sun and moon are gone.
Be like the skies, that steadfast are,
Though absent sun and moon and star.
CAROLINE A. MASON.

PRIZE QUOTATIONS.

Cash prizes to the amount of Three Hundred Dollars will be awarded by the Publisher to the persons who will name the author of the greatest number of the Prize Quotations. Rules for Competitors may be found on another page.

69.

Because she looked upon the land with me, Because she looked upon it with her eyes, It seemed to me a land of sweetest guise, From savage mountain top to savage sea.

70.

Ah! now I know why fair young days were dark,
Why piteous tears of youth fell swiftly down,
Why at the dawning sang no morning lark,
Why sullen afternoons were full of frown.

I had not reached thy being's larger arc,

Nor worn, as thy great gift, Love's sacred crown.

71.

Play not the niggard; spurn thy native clod,
And self disown:

Live to thy neighbor, live unto thy God,
Not to thyself alone.

72.

Nature lives on, though king or statesman dies;
Thus mockingly these little lives of ours,
So brief, so transient, seem to emphasize
The immortality of birds and flowers!

73.

Hail, Prince of Peace! hail, King of Kings! Who would not hail thy day of birth, Sunshine with healing in his wings,

Light, love, and joy to all on earth! Once more let all men be enrolled, Thou the One Shepherd - in our fold.

74.

These are the men,

The men who cleave, with sturdy stroke,
A fallen giant's heart of oak,
Now build for life, and life's demands,
And fill with bread the waiting hands.

75.

We love our dead, and hold their memories dear; But living love is sweeter than regret;

God's ways are just; and, though they seem severe, He can give back with blessings greater yet Than we have lost. He chastens for some good That in our weakness is not understood.

76.

What silence we keep year after year,

With those who are most near to us and dear: We live beside each other day by day,

And speak of myriad things, but seldom say The full, sweet word that lies just in our reach Beneath the commonplace or common speech.

77.

Work is the holiest thing in earth or heaven;
To lift from souls the sorrow and the curse,
This dear employment must to us be given,
While there is want in God's great universe.
78.

But ever I hear an undertone-
A subtle, sorrowful, wordless moan;
The dying note of a funeral bell;
The faltering sigh of a last farewell:
And ever I see through lurid haze,
The sober phantoms of other days -
In light that's sad as the ruin it frets,
The solemn light of a sun that sets.

79.

What will it matter by and by,
Whether with cheek to cheek I've lain
Close by the pallid angel, Pain,

Soothing myself through sob and sigh?—
All will be elsewise, by and by!

80.

No generous action can delay

Or thwart our higher, steadier aims,

But if sincere and true are they,

It will arouse our sight and nerve our frames.

81.

A bird sang on the swinging vine,—

Yes! on the vine,

And then,- sang not;

I took your little white hand in mine;

'Twas April; 'twas Sunday; 'twas warm sunshine,— Yes! warm sunshine:

Have you forgot?

82.

Deaf to the roar are those who make their home
Where sheer Niagara jars the primeval rock:
Let them but go and come: the awful boom
Strikes on their new-born ears with thund'rous
shock!

Blind are these eyes, except they note some change
They cannot see, until by contrast taught,
Then how obtuse, how narrow in their range
Are human senses and is human thought.
83.

Thou art thyself thine enemy!

The great!-- what better they than thou?
As theirs, is not thy will as free?
Has God with equal favors thee
Neglected to endow?