In that village under the hill,
When the night is starry and still,
Many a weary soul in prayer
Looks to the other village there,
And weeping and sighing, longs to go
Up to that home, from this below;
Longs to sleep in the forest wild,
Whither have vanished wife and child,
And heareth, praying, this answer fall-
"Patience! that village shall hold ye all.”

DAMON TO THE SYRACUSANS.-JOHN BANIM.

Are all content?

A nation's rights betrayed, and all content?
What! with your own free willing hands yield up
The ancient fabric of your constitution,

To be a garrison for common cut-throats!
What! will ye all combine to tie a stone,
Each to each other's neck, and drown like dogs?
Are you so bound in fetters of the mind
That there you sit, as if you were yourselves
Incorporate with the marble? Syracusans!—
But no! I will not rail, nor chide, nor curse you!
I will implore you, fellow-countrymen!

With blinded eyes, and weak and broken speech,
I will implore you-Oh! I am weak in words,
But I could bring such advocates before you,--
Your fathers' sacred images; old men,

That have been grandsires; women with their children
Caught up in fear and hurry, in their arms;

And those old men should lift their shivering voices And palsied hands, and those affrighted mothers Should hold their innocent infants forth, and ask, Can you make siaves of them?

EXAMPLE.

We scatter seeds with careless hand,
And dream we ne'er shall see them more;

But for a thousand years

Their fruit appears,

In weeds that mar the land,

Or healthful store.

The deeds we do, the words we say-
Into still air they seem to fleet,
We count them ever past;
But they shall last--

In the dread judgment they
And we shall meet!

I charge thee by the years gone by,
For the love's sake of brethren dear,
Keep thou the one true way,

In work and play,

Lest in that world their cry

Of woe thou hear.

THE DUMB-WAITER.-F. S. COZZENS.

We have put a dumb-waiter in our house. A dumb-waiter is a good thing to have in the country, on account of its convenience. If you have company, every thing can be sent up from the kitchen without any trouble; and if the baby gets to be unbearable, on account of his teeth, you can dismiss the complainant by stuffing him in one of the shelves, and letting him down upon the help.

To provide for contingencies, we had all our floors deafened. In consequence, you can not hear any thing that is going on in the story below; and when you are in an upper room of the house, there might be a democratic ratificationmeeting in the cellar, and you would not know it. Therefore, if any one should break into the basement, it would not disturb us; but to please Mrs. Sparrowgrass, I put stout iron bars in all the tower windows. Besides, Mrs. Sparrowgrass had bought a rattle when she such a rattle as watcrimen carry there. neighbor, who, upon the signal, is to come to the rescue with his revolver. He is a rash man, prone to pull trigger first, and make inquiries afterward.

was in Philadelphia; This is to alarm our

One evening, Mrs. S. had retired, and I was busy writing, when it struck me a glass of ice-water would be palatable. So I took the candle and a pitcher, and went down to the pump. Our pump is in the kitchen. A country pump in the kitchen, is more convenient; but a well with buckets is cer

tainly most picturesque. Unfortunately, our well-water has not been sweet since it was cleaned out.

First, I had to open a bolted door that lets you into the basement hall, and then I went to the kitchen door, which proved to be locked. Then I remembered that our girl always carried the key to bed with her, and slept with it under her pillow. Then I retraced my steps; bolted the basement door, and went up into the dining-room. As is always the case, I found, when I could not get any water, I was thirstier than I supposed I was. Then I thought I would wake our girl up. Then I concluded not to do it. Then I thought of the well, but I gave that up on account of its flavor. Then I opened the closet doors: there was no water there; and then I thought of the dumb-waiter! The novelty of the idea made me smile; I took out two of the movable shelves, stood the pitcher on the bottom of the dumb-waiter, got in myself with the lamp; let myself down until I supposed I was within a foot of the floor below, and then let go.

We came down so suddenly, that I was shot out of the apparatus as if it had been a catapult; it broke the pitcher, extinguished the lamp, and landed me in the middle of the kitchen at midnight, with no fire, and the air not much above the zero point. The truth is, I had miscalculated the distance of the descent,-instead of falling one foot, I had fallen five. My first impulse was, to ascend by the way I came down, but I found that impracticable. Then I tried the kitchen door: it was locked. I tried to force it open; it was made of two-inch stuff, and held its own. Then I hoisted a window, and there were the rigid iron bars. If I ever felt angry at anybody it was at myself, for putting up those bars to please Mrs. Sparrowgrass. I put them up, not to

keep people in, but to keep people out.

I laid my cheek against the ice-cold barriers, and looked out at the sky: not a star was visible; it was as black as ink overhead. Then I thought of Baron Trenck and the prisoner of Chillon. Then I made a noise! I shouted until I was hoarse, and ruined our preserving-kettle with the poker. That brought our dogs out in full bark, and between us we made the night hideous. Then I thought. I heard a voice, and listened: it was Mrs. Sparrowgrass calling to me from

the top of the stair-case. I tried to make her hear me, but the infernal dogs united with howl, and growl, and bark, so as to drown my voice, which is naturally plaintive and tender. Besides, there were two bolted doors and double deafened floors between us. How could she recognize my voice, even if she did hear it?

Mrs. Sparrowgrass called once or twice, and then got frightened; the next thing I heard was a sound as if the roof had fallen in, by which I understood that Mrs. Sparrowgrass was springing the rattle! That called out our neighbor, already wide awake; he came to the rescue with a bullterrier, a Newfoundland pup, a lantern, and a revolver. The moment he saw me at the window, he shot at me, but fortunately just missed me. I threw myself under the kitchen table, and ventured to expostulate with him, but he would not listen to reason. In the excitement I had forgotten his name, and that made matters worse. It was not until he had roused up everybody around, broken in the basement door with an axe, gotten into the kitchen with his cursed savage dogs and shooting-iron, and seized me by the collar, that he recognized me,—and then, he wanted me to explain it! But what kind of an explanation could I make to him? I told him he would have to wait until my mind was composed, and then I would let him understand the matter fully. But he never would have had the particulars from me, for I do not approve of neighbors that shoot at you, break in your door, and treat you in your own house as if you were a jail-bird. He knows all about it, however, somebody has told him, somebody tells everybody every thing in our village.