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Darby dear, but my heart was wild,
When we buried our baby child,
Until you whispered, “Heaven knows best."

And my heart found rest;
Darby dear, 'twas your loving hand
Showed the way to the better land-
Ah! lad, as you kissed each tear,
Life grew better and Heav

better and Heav'n more near:
Always the same, Darby, my own,
Always the same to your old wife Joan.

Hand in hand when our life was May,
Hand in hand when our hair is gray,
Shadow and sun for ev'ry one,

As the years roll on;
Hand in hand when the long night-tide
Gently covers us side by side-
Ah! lad, though we know not when,
Love will be with us forever then:

Always the same, Darby, my own,
Always the same to your old wife Joan

A READER'S PRAYER Charles Lamb once said he felt more like saying grace before a good book than before meat. H. H. Barstow, receiving his suggestion from Dr. Henry Van Dyke's “Writer's Prayer," in "The Ruling Passion," gives us a suggestive “Reader's Prayer."

Lord, let me never slight the meaning nor the moral of anything I read. Make me respect my mind so much that I dare not read what has no meaning nor moral. Help me choose with equal care my friends and my books, because they are both for life. Show me that as in a river, so in read

ing, the depths hold more of strength and beauty than the shallows. Teach me to value art without being blind to thought. Keep me from caring more for much reading than for careful reading; for books than the Book. Give me an ideal that will let me read only the best, and when that is done, stop me. Repay me with power to teach others, and then help me to say from a disciplined mind a grateful Amen.


You kissed me! My head drooped low on your breast
With a feeling of shelter and infinite rest,
While the holy emotions my tongue dared not speak,
Flashed up as in flame, from my heart to my cheek.
Your arms held me fast; oh! your arms were so bold:
Heart beat against heart in their passionate fold.
Your glances seemed drawing my soul through mine eyes,
As the sun draws the mist from the sea to the skies.
Your lips clung to mine till I prayed in my bliss
They might never unclasp from the rapturous kiss.

You kissed me! My heart, my breath, and my will
In delirious joy for a moment stood still.
Life had for me then no temptations, no charms,
No visions of rapture outside of your arms,
And were I this instant an angel possessed
Of the peace and the joy that belong to the blest,
I would Aling my white robes unrepiningly down,
I would tear from my forehead its beautiful crown
To nestle once more in that haven of rest-
Your lips upon mine, my head on your breast.

You kissed me! My soul in a bliss so divine
Reeled and swooned like a drunkard when foolish with wine
And I thought 'twere delicious to die there, if death
Would but come while my lips were yet moist with your

While your arms clasped me round in that blissful embrace,
While your eyes melt in mine could e'en death e'er efface,
Oh, these are the questions I ask day and night:
Must my lips taste no more such exquisite delight ?
Would you wish that your breast were my shelter as then?
And if you were here, would you kiss me again?


When you wake up in the morning of a chill and cheerless day,

And feel inclined to grumble, pout, or frown, Just glance into your mirror and you will quickly see It's just because the corners of your mouth turn down.

Then take this simple rhyme,

Remember it in time: It's always dreary weather, in countryside or town, When you wake and find the corners of your mouth turned


If you wake up in the morning full of bright and happy

And begin to count the blessings in your cup,
Then glance into your mirror and you will quickly see
It's all because the corners of your mouth turn up.

Then take this little rhyrne,

Remember all the time: There's joy a-plenty in this world to fill life's silver cup If you'll only keep the corners of your mouth turned up.

Lulu Linton, in Youths Companicn, Feb. 6, 1902.


When Jenny rode to mill with me,

The daisies bared their bosoms,
The spring winds rumpled every tree

And stirred a storm of blossoms.

The squirrels scampered from the hedge

The cows were in the clover,
The lilies rimmed the river's edge,

And dusky doves flew over.

The white road seemed to welcome us,

By shaken dewdrops dented,
The groves with song were tremulous,

By lovely violets scented.

The mad wind seemed to envy all

The curls beneath her bonnet,
And let the dew-dashed blossoms fall

In twinkling showers on it.

How well the way old Milton knew

In all the springtime weather,
His back was broad enough for two,

And so—we rode together!

He loitered in the light and song,

He knew the spell that bound me,
And that the way was never long

While Jenny's arms were round me.

The rose had then no cruel thorn

To mar the moment's blisses,

The miller took his toll in corn,

And I took mine in kisses.

Now Jenny's mine "till death do part" —

Yet, though the years are many,
The dear old road runs round the heart

That framed the face of Jenny.

And Jenny's eyes are tender still,

Her lips a nest of blisses,
As when, in crossing to the mill,
I took my toll in kisses!

Philadelphia Times Herald.


One of the most beautiful tributes ever paid a dumb animal came from the lips of the late Senator George Graham Vest. The occasion was a trial over the killing of a dog, which was held in a Missouri town when he was a young lawyer.

Senator Vest appeared for the plaintiff, while Senator Francis M. Cockrell, then a country practitioner, represented the defendant.

Young Vest took no interest in the testimony and made no notes, but at the close of the case arose, and, in a soft voice, made the following address:

"Gentlemen of the Jury—The best friend a man has in the world may turn against him and become his enemy. His son or daughter that he has reared with loving care may prove ungrateful. Those who are nearest and dearest to us, those whom we trust with our happiness and our good name. may become traitors to their faith. The money that

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