dear child's cheek!- and how she began to sneeze and sputter! and how astonished she was to find herself dripping wet, and her father still throwing more water over her!

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Pray do not, dear father!" cried she. "See how you have wet my nice frock, which I put on only this morning!

For Marygold did not know that she had been a little golden statue; nor could she remember any thing that had happened since the moment when she ran with outstretched arms to comfort poor King Midas.

19. Her father did not think it necessary to tell his beloved child how very foolish he had been, but contented himself with showing how much wiser he had now grown. For this purpose, he led little Marygold into the garden, where he sprinkled all the remainder of the water over the rose-bushes, and with such good effect that above five thousand roses recovered their beautiful bloom. There were two circumstances, however, which, as long as he lived, used to put King Midas in mind of the Golden Touch. One was, that the sands of the river sparkled like gold; the other, that little Marygold's hair had now a golden tinge,.which he had never observed in it before she had been transmuted by the effect of his kiss. This change of hue was really an improvement, and made Marygold's hair richer than in her babyhood.

20. When King Midas had grown quite an old man, and used to trot Marygold's children on his knee, he was fond of telling them this marvelous story, pretty much as I have now told it to you. And then would he stroke their glossy ringlets, and tell them that their

hair, likewise, had a rich shade of gold, which they had inherited from their mother.

"And, to tell you the truth, my precious little folks," quoth King Midas, diligently trotting the children all the while, “ever since that morning, I have hated the very sight of all other gold, save this!"

38. THE MARINER'S DREAM.

IN slumbers of midnight the sailor boy lay,
His hammock swung loose at the sport of the wind;
But, watch-worn and weary, his cares flew away,
And visions of happiness danced o'er his mind.

He dreamed of his home, of his dear native bowers;
On pleasures that waited on life's merry morn;
While Memory stood sideways half covered with
flowers,

And restored every rose, but secreted the thorn.

Then Fancy her magical pinions 1 spread wide,
And bade the young dreamer in ecstasy rise:
Now, far, far behind him the green waters glide,
And the cot of his forefathers blesses his eyes.

The jessamine clambers in flower o'er the thatch, And the swallow sings sweet from her nest in the wall;

1 pin'ion, wing.

1

All trembling with transport he raises the latch,
And the voices of loved ones reply to his call.

A father bends o'er him with looks of delight,
His cheek is impearled with a mother's warm tear;
And the lips of the boy in a love kiss unite

With the lips of the maid whom his bosom holds dear.

The heart of the sleeper beats high in his breast,

Joy quickens his pulse-all his hardships seem o'er; And a murmur of happiness steals through his rest, "O God! thou hast blest me, I ask for no more."

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Ah! whence is the flame which now bursts on his eye? Ah! what is that sound that now larums 2 his ear? 'Tis the lightning's red glare painting hell on the sky! 'Tis the crashing of thunders, the groan of the sphere!

He springs from his hammock-he flies to the deck; Amazement confronts him with images dire:

Wild winds and mad waves drive the vessel a wreck, The masts fly in splinters - the shrouds are on fire!

Like mountains the billows tumultuously swell;
In vain the lost wretch calls on mercy to save:
Unseen hands of spirits are ringing his knell,
And the death-angel flaps his broad wings o'er the

wave.

1 transport, ecstasy.

2 lar'ums, alarms.