Written for the Ladies' Garland.

THE INFANT MARTYRS.
BY THOMAS MCKELLAR.

below was quite delightful to the old couple been among the first to blame Mr. Hilbury -no complaints of the insolence and extrava- for marrying, actually proposed for her hand; gance of servants. Barbara was a treasure but she replied "that she knew that he only above all price. Four months after Barbara wanted her money; but, that when she did had entered her new service, the old lady marry, it would be a man who would esteem was taken ill; she required constant attend- and be kind to her." Barbara kept her word. ance, and she was occasionally rather fretful. She made a rational second choice, and enMrs. Deacon did not feel herself equal to sit-joyed all the happiness her good conduct deting up night after night. Barbara, who felt served. grateful to her benefactress, tendered her services, when she made herself so useful, that the old lady preferred her to Mrs. Deacon. Barbara was never sleepy; she was never seen with a frown upon her face, no matter how unreasonable her mistress might be; she never bounced about the room as the housemaid did, but walked in so cautious a manner that her step was not heard. In spite, however, of the celebrity of the Bath doctors, the old lady died, recommending Barbara to the care of the old gentleman, and in her will leaving her faithful attendant a handsome present. Such proofs of regard were enough to raise a little envy on the part of Mrs. Deacon, had not Barbara borne her prosperity in the meekest manner possible, and still continued her plain simple style of dress, and her modest demeanor.

Mrs. Deacon, soon after the death of her mistress, fell into bad health; her native air was recommended to her, and she set off for Devonshire, leaving Barbara to take care of her master, whose gout had been rather troublesome. But Barbara was so gentle in wrapping up his gouty foot, and so well adjusted his velvet shoe without giving him pain, that he began to consider Barbara as great a treasure as his wife had been. And he thought within himself, what would become of me if Barbara should leave me, or, if she should marry? and now I think of it, I suspect the grocer's foreman is looking after her. Barbara is good looking and sweet tempered.— Thus did the old gentleman cogitate day after day upon the possibility of Barbara leaving him, until at length he determined to make her his own, by the firmest of ties; and, to the damsel's astonishment, proposed to marry her. She had no particular attachment to any one, and they soon settled the affair, to the amazement of all Bath, which was in quite an uproar upon the occasion. If he had been a poor man nobody would have given themselves any trouble about him; but for the rich Mr. Hilbury to degrade himself, was scandalous.

Barbara was as good a wife as she had been a servant, and conducted herself so much to the satisfaction of her husband, that, at his death, which occurred some years after, he left all his wealth to his widow, who had in a short time admirers and lovers even amongst the nobility. One of those who had

The Eastern Magi came from far,
Led on their journey by a star;
O'er field and flood it guided them
Until they came to Bethlehem.
It stood above that little town,
And pour'd its lustrous beauty down;
Though least of thousands in the lot
Of Judah was that humble spot.*
For Micah, in his prophecy,

Had told of One who should arise
In Bethlehem, and who should be

Th' eternal Lord of earth and skies!
And it was fitting that a star

Should point where its Creator lay,
And guide earth's wisest men from far,

To Him their gifts and praise to pay.
Myrrh, frankincense, and golden gem
They gave the Babe of Bethlehem;
And wealth and worship forth they pour'd
To Him who is creation's Lord.

The cunning Herod-cruel king

Was fain the holy Babe to slay;
And charged that they to him should bring
The tidings where the Saviour lay.

But they, in dreams by Heaven forewarn’d—
The monarch's crafty orders scorn'd;
And Jesus' parents sped their flight
To Egypt, in the darksome night.

The tyrant-monarch, mad with rage,
In blood would now his wrath assuage;
He sent, and every infant slew
Who there its breath of being drew!

Then many a smitten mother, wild
With hopeless grief, bemoan'd her child;
All desolate, she wept her dead,
Refusing to be comforted!

'Twas heard in heaven, that mother's cry!
The king died as the brutal die;
While those to whom his wrath was given,
In crowds went up to God in heaven!
Philadelphia, April, 1842.

*Micah v. 2.

A SONG,-COMPOSED FOR THE LADIES' GARLAND,-BY C. S. PERCIVAL.

In a note accompanying the following, the author says "The words of the enclosed Song were composed nearly a year ago, and published a few months since, in a little volume of poems. * * *. The tune was lately composed for the words, and I now offer them together for publication in the Garland."

Come o'er the lea, my love, with me, The breeze is floating balmily; For Spring again comes

o'er the main, And flow'rets deck the dewy plain. Then come with me we'll pluck the flow'rs, And

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