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A MONTHLY MAGAZINE FOR YOUNGEST READERS.
This unique work, begun in 1867, and now a welcome visitor in every family where there is a child, retains its UNRIVALLED CORPS OF CONTRIBUTORS, and gives in every number a profusion of
THE CHOICEST PICTURES, executed in the best and most costly style. The peculiar features that have distinguished it thus far will characterize it during the coming year; and
NEW AND VARIED ATTRACTIONS
will be continually added.
IN CLUB WITH OTHER PERIODICALS.
4.00), and The Nursery, 4.50 | Our Young Folks 2.00), and The Nursery, 3.00 Old and New
4.00), and The Nursery, 4.50 Optic's Magazine 3.00), and The Nursery, 4.00 Lippincott's Magazine 4.00), and The Nursery, 4.50 Wood's Househ'ld Mag(1.00), and The Nursery, 2.00 Appleton's Journal 4.00), and The Nursery, 4.50 Godey's Lady's Book 3.00), and The Nursery, 3.75 Living Age
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(5.00), and The Nursery, 5.30 Every Saturday 5.00), and The Nursery, 5.50 Address
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SAME BASIS AS FIRE INSURANCE. BOYS AND GIRLS. THE LITTLE CORPORAL, by its attractive PAY FOR IT AS YOU GET IT. stories, poems, and beautiful pictures, has become a welcome visitor in many thousands of homes, furnishing instruction and entertain NO “NOTES,” “DIVIDENDS," "RESERVES."
OR OTHER DEVICES ment to the Boys and Girls, and older people who have young hearts. The leading serial to collect more money than is actually refor 1874 will be written by EMILY HUNT- quired to secure all the benefits of Life InINGTON MILLER, whose stories are always surance. wide awake and entertaining.
On this plan the National Life Insurance 2 MONTHS FREE!!
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deceased members $218,761.44, at a cost to All new subscribers for 1874, whose names them of only $4,634.95. Had these persons are received before January ist, will receive been insured on the old high-rate plan, their the November and December numbers of this heirs would have received only $107,458. year FREE! Also, by first mail, a copy of our new chromo—“Writing to Papa” or a INVESTIGATE, AND SAVE MONEY BY INSURING pair of our beautiful chromos 6 Mother's
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Agents wanted everywhere
No. 1536.- November 15, 1873.
CONTENTS. 1. THE FRENCH PRESS. Part II.,
OF LOUIS THE FIFTEENTH. By the Author
Cornhill Magazine, VII. THE USE OF LOOKING AT PICTURES,
· 386 1 OCTOBER,
422 432 439 444
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Calmer than breezy April, An April burst of beauty,
Cooler than August blaze,
The fairest time of all may be
September's golden days.
Press on, though Summer waneth,
And falter not, nor fear, And a hush of golden silence
For God can make the Autumn All through the bright July,
The glory of the year. Without one peal of thunder
Sunday Magazine Or a storm-wreath in the sky;
And a fiery reign of August,
Till the moon was on the wane, And then short clouded evenings
And a long and chilling rain.
I thought the summer was over,
And the whole year's glory spent, And that nothing but fog and drizzle
Could be for Autumn meant :
Nothing but dead leaves falling
Wet on the damp, dark mould, Less and less of the sunshine,
More and more of the cold.
October floateth by,
And light in her beaming eye ;
To the dull and fading grass,
As her springing footsteps pass.
And stainings of crimson light,
Will fall on the leaves to-night;
When the first faint sunbeams play,
She will leave on the trees to-day.
But oh! the golden day-time ;
And oh ! the silver nights;
Of the calm grand sunset lights !
And the morning's bright revealings,
Lifting the pearly mist,
That the sun hath claimed and kissed;
And oh! the noontide shadows,
Longer and longer now On the river margin resting,
Like the tress on a thoughtful brow.
She will tap at the cottage window,
One tap with her fingers cold,
As it was in the nights of old;
In the lights of the cheery flame,
The sound of October's name.
Rich fruitage bends the branches
With amber, and rose, and gold, O’er the purple and crimson asters,
And geraniums gay and bold.
The day is warm and glowing,
But the night is cool and sweet; And we fear no smiting arrows
Of fierce and fatal heat.
Then she'll touch the tree-tops softly,
And a carpet all fresh and sweet,
Will fall at her fairy feet ;
By the light of her magic smile,
And bids him reign awhile.
The leaves are only dropping
Like flakes of a sunset cloud; And the robin's song is clearer
Than Spring's own minstrel crowd.
A soft new robe of greenness
Decks every sunny mead ;
Is beautiful indeed.
Then when the hills are woven
With many a tinted strand,
Is wrapped over sea and land,
Like the sun at the close of day,
Is thy life-summer passing?
Think not thy joys are o'er ! Thou hast not seen what Autumn For thee may have in store.