Yes, Charles, I've thought of it a hundred times or more, And wondered if it really paid to always be land poor,--That had we built a cozy house, took pleasure as it come, Our children, once so dear to us, had never left our home.

I grieve to think of wasted weeks and years and months and days,

While for it all we never yet have had one word of praise. Men call us rich, but we are poor-would we not freely give The land with all its fixtures for a better way to live?

Don't think I'm blaming you, Charles-you're not a whit to blame,

I've pitied you these many years, to see you tired and lame. It's just the way we started out, our plans too far ahead; We've worn the cream of life away, to leave too much when dead.

'Tis putting off enjoyment long after we enjoy,—

And after all too much of wealth seems useless as a toy,Although we've learned, alas, too late! what all must learn at last,

Our brightest earthly happiness is buried in the past,

That life is short and full of care, the end is always nigh, We seldom half begin to live before we're doomed to die. Were I to start my life again, I'd mark each separate day, And never let a single one pass unenjoyed away.

If there were things to envy, I'd have them now and then, And have a home that was a home, and not a cage or pen. I'd sell some land if it were mine, and fit up well the rest, I've always thought, and think so yet-small farms well worked are best.

THE LAWYERS AND THE CAT.

Two Arkansas lawyers were domesticated in the rude hotel of a country town. The hotel was crowded, and the room allotted to our heroes was also occupied by six or eight others. Shake down beds, enough to accommodate the guests, were disposed about the room, against the four walls, leaving an open space in the centre of the apartment.

Judge Clark lay with his head to the north, on one side, and Judge Thomas lay with his head to the south on the other side of the room. So far as that room was concerned,

it might be said that their heads represented the north and south poles respectively.

All the other beds in the room were occupied. The central part of the room was deemed neutral ground, in which the occupants of the different beds had equal rights. Here, in picturesque confusion lay the boots, hats, coats, and breeches of the sleepers. There were no windows, and though the door was open, there being no moon, the night was very dark in that room.

The wily lawyers, who had been opposing counsel in a case tried in the town court that day, and had opposed each other with the contumacity of wild pigs, were now the very incarnations of meekness, for when the hungry swarm of mosquitoes settled down and bit them on the one cheek they slowly turned the other to be bitten also.

But hush! hark!

A deep sound strikes the ear like a rising knell. "Me-ow-ow!"

Judge Clark and Thomas were wide awake, and sitting bolt upright in an instant.

Again the startling cry!

'Ye-ow, ye-ow!"

"There's a cat!" whispered Clark. "Scat you!" hissed Thomas.

Cat paid no attention to these demonstrations, but gavo vent to another yowl.

66

'Oh, gracious!" cried Clark, "I can't stand this! Where is he, Thomas?"

"On your side of the room somewhere," replied Thomas. "No, he's on your side." said Clark.

"Ye-ow-ow-ow!"

"There I told you he was on your side," they both exclaimed in a breath.

And still the howl went on.

The idea now entered the heads of both the lawyers, that by the exercise of a certain strategy they might be enabled to execute a certain flank movement on the cat, and totally

demoralize him. Practically each determined to file " a motion to quash" the cat's attachment for that room.

Each kept his plan to himself, and in the dark, unable to see each other, prepared for action.

Strange as it may appear, it is nevertheless true, that the same plan suggested itself to both. In words, the plan would be about as follows:

The yowler is evidently looking and calling for another cat, with whom he has made an appointment. I will imitate a cat, and this cat will think t'other cat's around. This cat will come toward me, and when he shall have arrived within reach, I'll blaze away with anything I can get hold of, and knock the mew-sic out of him.

So each of the portly judges, noiselessly as cream comes to the surface of the milk, hoisted himself onto his hands and knees, and hippopotamus fashion advanced to the neutral ground occupying the central portion of the room.

Arriving there Judge Clark selected a boot-jack, and Judge Thomas a heavy cow hide boot from the heap, and settled themselves down to the work.

Clark tightened his grip on the boot-jack, and throwing up his head, gave vent to a prolonged and unearthly “ye"that would have reflected credit upon ten of the largest kind of cats.

OW-OW

Aha," thought Thomas, who was not six feet away, "he's immediately close around. Now I'll inveigle him!" and he gave the regular dark-night call of a feminine cat!

Each of the judges advanced a little closer, and Clark produced a questioning "Ow-ow!"

Thomas answered by a reassuring "purow-purow!" and they advanced a little more.

They were now within easy reach, and each imagining the cat had but a moment more to live, whaled away, the one with his boot, the other with his boot-jack.

The boot took Clark square in the mouth, demolishing his teeth, and the boot-jack came down on Thomas' head just as he was in the midst of a triumphant "ye-ow!"

When the lights were brought the cat had disappeared, but the catastrophe was in the opposite corners of the room, with heels in the air, swearing blue streaks.

DDD

WHAT IS THAT TO THEE?-THOMAS D. JAMES,

When I am called to die,

To yield my spirit to His sacred keeping,
To rest my body in the long, long sleeping,
I fain would not belie

My trust in Him who doeth all things well,
Whose will alone my every wish should quell.

I would not vainly choose

What road shall lead me up the holy mountain,
What path conduct me to the crystal fountain;
Nor willing be to lose

The guidance of the hand that e'er has led
In ways I knew not, but with mercies spread.

If gentle be the call,

If faint and feeble be the distant warning,
Like dimmest daystreak of the early morning,
Tipping the pine trees tall,

And brighter growing, till the red east shines
With fullest glory on the glowing pines.

How grateful should I feel!

That I might still behold my loved ones longer,
Might tarry till my timid faith grew stronger,
Might linger to reveal

The loves that buoyant life can ne'er unveil,
Like odors evening only can exhale.

If sudden be the stroke,
If all unheralded His solemn coming,—

Like flash, fast followed by the thunder's booming,
That scales the skyward oak,

While pale with fear we hold our bated breath,
In awe of the swift messenger of death,--

How blest the favored lot!

A lot to few departing spirits given-
Painless to pass from earth and sin to Heaven.
Oh! surely it were not

Departure we should dread, at once to rise
On whirlwind pinions to the opening skies.

So I repose my trust;

And whether speedy messenger obeying,
Or waiting patiently my Lord's delaying
To summon me to rest,

On his dear love my willing trust would dwell;
He knoweth best; He doeth all things well.

HANNAH BINDING SHOES-LUCY LARCOM.

Poor lone Hannah,

Sitting at the window, binding shoes!
Faded, wrinkled,

Sitting, stitching, in a mournful muse.
Bright-eyed beauty once was she,
When the bloom was on the tree;-
Spring and winter,

Hannah's at the window, binding shoes.

Not a neighbor
Passing, nod or answer will refuse
To her whisper,

"Is there from the fishers any news?"
Oh, her heart's adrift with one
On an endless voyage gone;—
Night and morning,

Hannah's at the window, binding shoes.

Fair young Hannah,

Ben the sunburnt fisher, gaily woos;
Hale and clever,

For a willing heart and hand he sues.
May-day skies are all aglow,

And the waves are laughing so!
For her wedding

Hannah leaves her window and her shoes.

May is passing;

'Mid the apple-boughs a pigeon coos;

Hannah shudders,

For the mild south-wester mischief brews.
Round the rocks of Marblehead,
Outward bound a schooner sped;
Silent, lonesome,

Hannah's at the window, binding shoes.

"Tis November:

Now no tear her wasted cheek bedews,
From New Foundland

Not a sail returning will she lose,
Whispering hoarsely; "Fishermen,
Have you, have you heard of Ben?"
Old with watching,

Hannah's at the window, binding shoes.