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Why don't you tell me, like a man,

What is the matter with our folks ? "
I said all well, old comrade, true;

I say all well, for He knows best
Who takes the young ones in his arms,

Before the sun goes to the west.
The axe-man Death deals left and right,

And flowers fall as well as oaks ;
And so-fair annie blooms no more!

And that's the inatter with your folks.
“See, this long curl was kept for you;

And this white blossom from her breast;
And here-your sister Bessie wrote

A letter, telling all the rest.
Bear up, old friend." Nobody speaks;

Only the old camp-raven croaks,
And soldiers whisper: Boys, be still;

There's some bad news from Grainger's folks.”
He turns his back—the only foe

That ever saw it- -on this grief,
And, as ren will, keeps down the tears

Kind nature sends to woe's relief.
Then answers he, “Ah, Hal, I'll try;

But in my throat there's something chokes,
Because, you see, I've thought so long

To count her in among our folks.
“I s'pose she must be happy now,

But still I will keep thinking, too,
I could have kept all trouble off,

By being tender, kind, and true.
But maybe not. She's safe up there,

And when His hand deals other strokes,
She'll stand by heaven's gate, I know,

And wait to welcome in our folks."

A CHILD'S DREAM OF A STAR.

CHARLES DICKENS. There was once a child, and he strolled about a good deal, and thought of a number of things. He had a sister who was a child, too, and his constant companion.

These two used to wonder all day long. They wondered at the beauty of the flowers ; they wondered at the height and blueness of the sky; they wondered at the depth of the bright water; they wondered at the goodness and the power of God, who made the lovely world.

They used to say to one another, sometimes : Supposing all the children upon earth were to die, would the flowers, and the water, and the sky be sorry? They believed they would be sorry. For, said they, the buds are the children of the flowers, and the little playful streams that gambol down the hillsides are the children of the water, aud the smallest bright specks playing at hide and seek in the sky all night must surely be the children of the stars; and they would all be grieved to see their playmates, the children of men, no more.

There was one clear shining star that used to come out in the sky before the rest, near the church spire, above the graves. It was larger and more beautiful, they thought, than all the others, and every night they watched for it, standing hand-in-hand at a window. Whoever saw it first, cried out, “I see the star.” And often, they cried out both together, knowing so well when it would rise, and where. So they grew to be such friends with it that, before laying down in their bed, they always looked out once again to bid it good night; and when they were turning round to sleep, they used to say, “ God bless the star!”

But while she was still very young, oh, very, very young, the sister drooped, and came to be so weak that she could no longer stand in the window at night, and then the child looked sadly out by himself, and when he saw the star, turned round and said to the patient pale face on the bed, “ I see the star! and then a smile would come upon the face, and a little weak voice used to say, “God bless my brother and the star!”

And so the time caine, all too soon, when the child looked out alone, and when there was no face on the bed, and when there was a little grave among the graves, not

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there before, and when the star made long rays dowo towards him, as he saw it through his tears.

Now these rays were so bright, and they seemed to make such a shining way from earth to heaven, that when the child went to his solitary bed, he dreamed about the star; and dreamed that, lying where he was, he saw a train of people taken up that sparkling road by angels. And the star, opening, showed him a great world of light, where many more such angels waited to receive them.

All these angels, who were waiting, turned their beaming eyes upon the people who were carried up into the star; and some came out from the long rows in which they stood, and fell upon the people's necks, and kissed them tenderly, and went away with them down avenues of light, and were so happy in their company, that lying in his bed he wept for joy.

But tk ere were many angels who did not go with them, and among them one he knew. The patient face that once had lain upon the bed was glorified and radiant, but his heart found out his sister among all the host.

His sister's angel lingered near the entrance of the star, and said to the leader among those who had brought the people thither: “ Is my brother come? "

And he said, “No!”

She was turning hopefully away, when the child stretched out his arms, and cried, “Oh, sister, I am here! Take me!” And then she turned her beaming eyes upon him,-and it was night; and the star was shining into the room, making long rays down towards him as he saw it through his tears.

From that hour forth, the child looked out upon the star as the home he was to go to when his time should come; and he thought that he did not belong to the earth alone, but to the star, too, because of his sister's angel gone before.

There was a baby born to be a brother to the child, and, while he was so little that he never yet had spoken

a word, be stretched his tiny form out on his bed, and died.

Again the child dreamed of the opened star, and of the company of angels, and the train of people, and the rows of angels, with their beaming eyes all turned upon those people's faces.

Said his sister's angel to the leader : “ Is my brother come?And he said, “Not that one, but another!”

As the child beheld his brother's angel in her arms, he cried, “Oh, iny sister, I am here! Take me?” And she turned and smiled upon him—and the star was shining.

He grew to be a young man, and was busy at his books, when an old servant came to him and said: “ Thy mother is no more. I bring her blessing on her darling son.”

Again at night he saw the star, and all that former company. Said his sister's angel to the leader, “Is my brother come?

And he said, “Thy mother!”

A mighty cry of joy went forth through all the star, because the mother was re-united to her two children. And he stretched out his hands and cried, “Oh, mother, sister, and brother, I am here! Take me!” And they answered him, “ Not yet!”—and the star was shining.

He grew to be a man, whose hair was turning gray, and he was sitting in his chair by the fireside, heavy with grief, and with his face be lewed with tears, when the star opened once again.

Said his sister's angel to the leader, “ Is my brother come?”

And he said, “Nay, but his maiden daughter!”

And the man who had been the child saw his daughter, newly lost to him, a celestial creature among those three, and he said: “My daughter's head is on my sister's bosom, and her arm is around my mother's neck, and at her feet is the baby of old time, and I can bear the parting from her, God be praised !”-And the star was shining

Thus the child came to be an old man, and his once smooth face was wrinkled, and his steps were slow and feeble, and his back was bent. And one night as he lay upon his bed, his children standing round, he cried, as he had cried so long ago : "I see the star!”

They whispered one another, “ He is dying." And he said, “I am. My age is falling from me like a garment, and I move towards the star as a child. And () my Father, now I thank Thee that it has so often opened to receive those dear ones who await me!” And the star was shining; and it shines upon

his

grave.

THE WHISKERS.-SAMUEL WOODWORTH.
The kings who ruled mankind with haughty sway,
The prouder pope, whom even kings obey,
Love, at whose shrine both popes and monarcbs fall,
And e'en self interest, that controls them all,
Possess a petty power, when all combined,
Compared with fashion's influence on mankind-
For love itself will oft to fashion bow;
The following story will convince you how:

A petit-maitre wooed a fair,
Of virtue, wealth, and graces rare;
But vainly had preferred his claim,
The maiden owned no answering flame;
At length by doubt and anguish torn,
Suspense too painful to be borne,
Low at her feet he humbly kneeled,
And thus his ardent flame revealed :
“Pity my grief, angelic fair,
Behold my anguish and despair ;
For you, this heart must ever burn-
Oh bless me with a kind return!
My love, no language can express,
Reward it then, with happiness;
Nothing on earth but you I prize,
All else is trifling in my eyes ;
And cheerfully would I resign
The wealth of worlds to call you mine.

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