"Ye spurned my prayer, for we were poor; But know, proud man, that God hath power To smite the King on Scotland's throne,

The Chieftain in his fortress tower.

Frown on! frown on! I fear

ye not;

We've done the last of Chieftain's bidding, And cold he lies, for whose young sake I used to bear your wrathful chiding.

"Will gold bring back his cheerful voice, That used to win my heart from sorrow? Will silver warm the frozen blood,

Or make my heart less lone to-morrow? Go back and seek your mountain home, And when ye kiss your fair-haired daughter, Remember him who died to-night

Beneath the waves of Mona's water."

Old

years rolled on, and new ones came-
Foes dare not brave Glenvarloch's tower;
But naught could bar the sickness out
That stole within fair Annie's bower.
The o'erblown floweret in the sun

Sinks languid down, and withers daily,
And so she sank-her voice grew faint,
Her laugh no longer sounded gayly.

Her step fell on the old oak floor

As noiseless as the snow-shower's drifting; And from her sweet and serious eyes

They seldom saw the dark lid lifting.

"Bring aid! bring aid!" the father cries; "Bring aid!" each vassal's voice is crying;

"The fair-haired beauty of the isles,
Her pulse is faint-her life is flying!"

He called in vain; her dim eyes turned
And met his own with parting sorrow,
For well she knew, that fading girl,

That he must weep and wail the morrow.
Her faint breath ceased; the father bent
And gazed upon his fair-haired daughter.
What thought he on? The widow's son,
And the stormy night by Mona's water.

THE FRECKLED-FACED GIRL.

HOW SHE ENTERTAINED A VISITOR WHILE HER MA WAS

DRESSING.

"MA'S up-stairs changing her dress," said the freckled

faced little girl, tying her doll's bonnet-strings and casting her eye about for a tidy large enough to serve as a shawl for that double-jointed young person.

"Oh! your mother needn't dress up for me," replied the female agent of the missionary society, taking a selfsatisfied view of herself in the mirror. "Run up and tell her to come down just as she is in her everyday clothes, and not stand on ceremony."

"Oh! but she hasn't got on her everyday clothes. Ma was all dressed up in her new brown silk, 'cause she expected Miss Dimmond to-day. Miss Dimmond always comes over here to show off her nice things, and ma don't mean to get left. When ma saw you coming, she said, "The Dickens!' and I guess she was mad about something. Ma said if you saw her new dress she'd have

to hear all about the poor heathen, who don't have silk, and you'd ask her for more money to buy hymn-books to send 'em. Say, do the nigger ladies use hymn-book leaves to do their hair up and make it frizzy? Ma says she guesses that's all the good the books do 'em, if they ever get any books. I wish my doll was a heathen!"

66

Why, you wicked little girl, what do you want of a heathen doll?" inquired the missionary lady, taking a mental inventory of the new things in the parlor to get material for a homily on worldly extravagance.

"So folks would send her lots of nice things to wear, and feel sorry to have her going about naked. I aint a wicked girl, either, 'cause Uncle Dick—you know Uncle Dick, he's been out West, and he says I'm a holy terror, and he hopes I'll be an angel pretty soon. Ma'll be down in a minute, so you needn't take your cloak off. She said she'd box my ears if I asked you to. Ma's Dutting on that old dress she had last year, 'cause she said she didn't want you to think she was able to give much this time, and she needed a new muff worse than the queen of the cannon ball islands needed religion. Uncle Dick says you ought to go to the islands, 'cause you'd be safe there, and the natifs'd be sorry they was such sinners anybody would send you to 'em. He says he never seen a heathen hungry enough to eat you, 'less 'twas a blind one, and you'd set a blind pagan's teeth on edge so he'd never hanker after any more missionary. Uncle Dick's awful funny, and makes pa and ma die laughing sometimes."

"Your Uncle Richard is a bad, depraved man, and ought to have remained out West, where his style is appreciated. He sets a bad example for little girls like you."

"Oh! I think he's nice. He showed me how to slide down the bannisters, and he's teaching me to whistle when ma aint round. That's a pretty cloak you've got, aint it? Do you buy all your good clothes with missionary money? Ma says you do.”

Just then the freckled faced little girl's ma came into the parlor and kissed the missionary lady on the cheek, and said she was delighted to see her, and they proceeded to have a real sociable chat. The little girl's ma can't understand why a person who professes to be so charitable as the missionary agent does, should go right over to Miss Diamond's and say such ill-natured things as she did, and she thinks the missionary is a double-faced gossip. BOSTON GLOBE.

THE OLD YEAR AND THE NEW.

HE Old Year sat beside the hearth

THE

In thoughtful mood; the hour was late;

And ere he vanished from the earth,
The past he fain would contemplate.
"I brought a wealth of joy for those
Who had o'erburdened been with grief,"
He said, "and for unnumbered woes
Furnished the cordial of relief.

"To some I gave a garden's bloom,
Sweet pansies and forget-me-nots;
To some the cypress, and the tomb,

The barrenness of desert spots.
With Love I tarried for a while,
Breathing the sweet Elysian air;
And bidding Hope serenely smile

Across the threshold of Despair.

"I entered on my natal hour

Burdened alike with bliss and bane,
Commissioned by my Lord to dower
Some hearts with ease, and some with pain.
Where happiness had rich increase,
I shall be honored long, I know;
But those I robbed of joy and peace-
They will be glad to have me go!

"I've followed many a bridal train;

Have watched by many a lonely bier;
With birth and death, with loss and gain,
Made up the record of the year.
And now beside December's gate
Where hangs the year's alarum bell,
I pause to scan the past, and wait
The sound of my own funeral knell.

"One!-How the hours have slipped away!
Two!-Some will weep with sore regret;
Three!-Could I still on earth delay-
Four!-Some good I might accomplish yet.
Five!-An angelic song awoke!

Six!-Surely are the fetters riven.

Seven!-Soon I shall hear the final stroke

Eight! Chime sweetly with the clock of heaven!

Nine!-I am nearer to my goal!

Ten!-Time must eternity begin!

Eleven!-Awake, immortal soul!

Twelve!-Farewell! and let the New Year in!"

"I come the Old Year's debts to pay!

I come his promises to keep;