And she tracketh, with thankful heart, The path of her gentle guide, Whose feet will be found on the surest ground, Hark! from the plain beneath, Voices are rising loud; The shout and the cheer, they have reached her ear, Louder, and louder still, Swelleth the welcome strain, Oh, loving heart! thou hast done thy part; She reacheth the mountain's foot; Hurrah! for her task is o'er; The deed she hath done hath a tribute won Of praises for evermore. And a lesson she taught to all, Of energy, faith, and love; Hast thou the right? Stand up and fight, Shame on ye! timid souls, Feeble for aught but ill; Shall sin and shall woe waste this world below, And will ye lie sluggish still? Wrest from their grasp the prey; Crush them, though cowards mock; And if the heart quail and the courage fail, THE GLOVE AND THE LIONS.-LEIGH HUNT. King Francis was a hearty king, and loved a royal sport, And one day as his lions fought, sat looking on the court; The nobles filled the benches, with the ladies in their pride, And 'mongst them sat the Count de Lorge, with one for whom he sighed : And truly 'twas a gallant thing to see that crowning show, Valor and love, and a king above, and the royal beasts below. Ramped and roared the lions, with horrid laughing jaws; They bit, they glared, gave blows like beams, a wind went with their paws; With wallowing might and stifled roar they rolled on one another, Till all the pit with sand and mane was in a thunderous smother; The bloody foam above the bars came whisking through the air; Said Francis then, "Faith, gentlemen, we're better here than there!" De Lorge's love o'erneard the King, a beauteous lively dame, With smiling lips and sharp bright eyes, which always seemed the same; She thought, "The Count, my lover, is brave as brave can be, She dropped her glove, to prove his love, then looked on him and smiled; He bowed, and in a moment leaped among the lions wild: The leap was quick, return was quick, he has regained his place, Then threw the glove, but not with love,- right in the lady's face. "By Heaven!" said Francis, "rightly done!” and he rose from where he sat ; "No love," quoth he, “but vanity, sets love a task like that." MR. PERKINS HELPS TO MOVE A STOVE. It seems a pity that the glory of these bright May days should be marred by the gross materialism of soap and brush, mop and broom; that the fragrant and delicate perfumes of budding nature and atmospherical freshness should be harnessed to the doubtful aroma of an upturned house. But over our broad and beautiful land the terrors of domestic reform hold sway, and the masculine mind is harrowed by spectacles the little happiness we are allotted in this world does not warrant. Mrs. Perkins has devoted this week to the onerous duty of cleaning house. Since six o'clock Monday morning that estimable lady has been the motive power of many brushes and cloths, and of much water and soap. At various hours when I have made my appearance near the house, I have caught sight of her portly form through several windows, a flaring handkerchief concealing her temples, and covering the site of her chignon. There was an expression of deep redness upon her features that pained me while I beheld, but which at the same time led me to remark to myself that it was not the most favorable time for making a call, and thus looking and apprehending, I would turn sadly away. Monday morning we had our breakfast in our comfortable dining room. At noon I took my dinner from the lid of the ice chest. It was dreadful cold, and tasted clammy and disagreeable. In the evening I stood back of the stove, and partook of a slice of bread, (the butter had got mislaid) and drank some of last year's tea from the irregular spout of the milk pitcher. In the morning we ate breakfast in the sink, (there was no fire in the stove, as it was to be kept cold for moving). The victuals had a flavor of great dampness, and tasted as though they had been fished out of the soap barrel. After astonishing my internal structure with the meal, I accepted an invitation from Mrs. Perkins to take down the stove. In justice to myself it may be well to remark that ] never took down a stove, nor was present when that intricate performance was going on, and this, in a measure, accounts for the slight misgiving I may have entertained when brought face to face with the tremendous range. The conversation that ensued was something like this,"You want to use great care, Mr. Perkins, and not let the whole thing fall on you, and kill yourself." This appeared reasonable enough, and I readily promised to use my best endeavors to keep the whole thing from falling upon me. "And, Mr. Perkins, don't get nervous with the pipe, because 21 Mary Ann has just scrubbed the floor, and that stuff gringes in awfully." I hadn't the remotest idea of what the stuff could be that gringes in awfully, but I didn't like to show ignorance before Mary Ann, and so I confidently responded, Certainly not." "And be very careful about your clothes, Mr. Perkins; now won't you?" This appeal was delivered with so much confidence mingled with doubt, that I hardly knew whether to treat it as a compliment, or a suspicion, and concluded it was best to split the difference, and preserve silence. "We are all ready now, Mr. Perkins. Mary Ann, you come here and steady the pipe while Mr. Perkins gets on the chair and takes it down." Upon this I mounted a chair and grasped the pipe, but I must not neglect to mention that as I grasped the pipe, Mrs. Perkins grasped my legs. "Goodness gracious, Cyrus Davidson Perkins! don't you know better than to stand on one of the best chairs in the house, and break right through the canes?" I had to admit that I didn't know any better, but cheerThis time I fully got down and mounted another chair. caught the pipe by its neck, and gave it a gentle pull from the chimney. It didn't move a bit, which encouraged me to believe I could bring a little more muscle into play, and under this impression I gave an extra twist. It came this time, and so much more readily than I had reason to expect, that I stepped down to the floor with it, passing over the top of the stove, and rubbing off an inch or so of skin from Mary Ann's nose. "Oh, Moses!" screamed that lady. "What have you done? Oh, what have you done?” cried Mrs. Perkins. Singularly enough, I didn't say anything, but got upon my feet as quick as I could, and rubbed my head, and looked all around but where Mrs. Perkins and her weeping aid were standing. "It's just like a man. You have made ten times more work than you have helped. Mary Ann, get the floor cloth. And there's a great spot on that floor we can never get off. I I'd like to make a fool of myself, I know I should. I knew when you stuck your ungainly carcass on that chair, you would kill somebody. Does it hurt you, Mary Ann? wouldn't rub it too hard; we'll have to take it up dry and soap it over. You awkward fool, didn't you know what you were doing? Now take the pipe out doors, and don't look any more like a smoked idiot than you can help." The manner in which this last was uttered left no room to doubt that I was the person referred to, and I picked up the pipe, and sorrowfully propelled it out doors; although I am compelled to admit that six links of pipe varied by two elbows at opposite angles, is not the most desirable thing in the world to escort out doors. When I came back, Mrs. Perkins had dressed the wound on Mary Ann's face with a strip of brown paper, and told me I might help to carry the stove into the shed, if I was sure of being quite sober. Upon this invitation I took hold of the range with the two ladies, and by loosening half a dozen joints in my spine, I was finally successful in getting the thing out of the room. But the pleasure of the occasion was irretrievably lost. Mrs. Perkins was ominously silent. Mary Ann's air was one of reproach which, combined with the brown paper, gave her an appearance of unearthly uncertainty. At dinner that day I ate some cold cabbage and a couple of soda crackers, carefully picking off the flakes of soap that adhered thereto. This morning I ate my breakfast on the stoop, and got my dinner through the milk-room window, eating it from the sill. It consisted of the last slice from yesterday's loaf, and two decrepit herrings. What we are to have for supper, and whether it will be necessary to go home after it, are questions that depress me this P. M. ALL'S WELL. The day is ended. Ere I sink to sleep, |