well i know the turkey is young and tender for i raised him from the egg myself."

"I have often received munificent fees from grateful patients that my skill has helped relieve," said the doctor, "but I was never more touched by a gift in all my professional experience than when that little country chap's turkey in the rough little box with the words 'expresses all pade' written on every side, was delivered to me." Kingston (N. Y.) Freeman.

A MORNING PRAYER

Oh, may I be strong and brave today,
And may I be kind and true;
And greet all men in a gracious way,
With frank good cheer in the things I say
And love in the deeds I do.

May the simple heart of a child be mine,
And the grace of a rose in bloom;

Let me fill the day with a hope divine
And turn my face to the sky's glad shine,
With never a cloud of gloom.

With the golden levers of love and light
I would lift the world and when

Through a path with kindly deeds made bright
I come to the calm of the starlight night,

Let me rest in peace. Amen.

By permission.

Nixon Waterman.

SOMETIME, SOMEWHERE

Unanswered yet? the prayer your lips have pleaded
In agony of heart these many years?

Does faith begin to fail? Is hope departing?
And think you all in vain those falling tears?
Say not the Father hath not heard your prayer;
You shall have your desire, sometime, somewhere.

Unanswered yet? though when you first presented
This one petition at the Father's throne,
It seemed you could not wait the time of asking,
So urgent was your heart to make it known.
Though years have passed since then, do not despair;
The Lord will answer you sometime, somewhere.

Unanswered yet? nay, do not say ungranted,
Perhaps your part is not wholly done;

The work began when your first prayer was uttered,
And God will finish what he has begun.

If you keep the incense burning there,
His glory you shall see, sometime, somewhere.

Unanswered yet? Faith cannot be unanswered;
Her feet are firmly planted on the rock,
Amid the wildest storms she stands undaunted,
Nor quails before the loudest thunder shock,
She knows Omnipotence hath heard her prayer,
And cries, "It shall be done, sometime, somewhere."
Ophelia G. Browning.

THE BURIAL OF SIR JOHN MOORE
AT CORUNNA, 1809

Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note
As his corse to the rampart we hurried;
Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot,
O'er the grave where our hero we buried.

We buried him darkly, at dead of night,
The sods with our bayonets turning;
By the struggling moonbeam's misty light,
And the lantern dimly burning.

No useless coffin enclosed his breast,

Not in sheet nor in shroud we wound him; But he lay like a warrior taking his rest, With his martial cloak around him.

Few and short were the prayers we said,

And we spoke not a word of sorrow;

But we steadfastly gazed on the face that was dead,
And we bitterly thought of the morrow.

We thought, as we hollowed his narrow bed,
And smoothed down his lonely pillow,

That the foe and the stranger would tread o'er his head,
And we far away on the billow!

Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone,
And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him;—
But little he'll reck, if they let him sleep on,
In the grave where a Briton has laid him.

But half of our heavy task was done

When the clock struck the hour for retiring;
And we heard the distant and random gun
That the foe was sullenly firing.

Slowly and sadly we laid him down,

From the field of his fame fresh and gory;

We carved not a line, and we raised not a stone-
But we left him alone with his glory!

Charles Wolfe.

GENTLE LIFE

This fair tree that shadows us from the sun hath grown many years in its place without more unhappiness than the loss of its leaves in winter, which the succeeding season doth generously repair, and shall we be less contented in the place where God has planted us? Or shall there go less time to the making of a man than to the growth of a tree? This stream floweth dimpling and laughing down to the great sea which it knoweth not, yet it doth not fret because the future is hidden; and it were doubtless wise in us to accept the mysteries of life as cheerfully and go forward with a merry heart, considering that we know enough to make us happy and keep us honest for today. A man should be well content if he can see so far ahead of him as the next bend in the stream. What lies beyond let him trust in the hand of God.

By permission.

Henry Van Dyke.

THE VOICE IN THE TWILIGHT

I was sitting alone, toward the twilight,
With spirit troubled and vexed,

With thoughts that were morbid and gloomy,
And faith that was sadly perplexed.

Some homely work I was doing

For the child of my love and care,
Some stitches half wearily setting,
In the endless need of repair.

But my thoughts were about the "building,"
The work some day to be tried;

And that only the gold and the silver
And the precious stones should abide.

And remembering my own poor efforts.
The wretched work I had done,
And, even when trying most truly,
The meager success I had won;

"It is nothing but 'wood, hay and stubble,' I said; "It will all be burned

This useless fruit of the talents
One day will be returned.

"And I have so longed to serve Him,

And sometimes I know I have tried; But I'm sure when he sees such building, He will never let it abide."