He has my first thought in the morning,
He has my last shudder at night.

Do you blame me for hating my lesson?
Is it strange that it frightful should seem?
Or that I more and more should abhor it
Since I had that most horrible dream?

ANONYMOUS,

THERE'S BUT ONE PAIR OF STOCKINGS

TO MEND TO-NIGHT.

[This should be spoken in a simple, unaffected manner; at times the voice should sink to low, soft, tremulous tones, as the good wife recalls memories of the dear departed.]

An old wife sat by her bright fireside,

Swaying thoughtfully to and fro,

In an ancient chair whose creaky frame
Told a tale of long ago;

While down by her side, on the kitchen floor,

Stood a basket of worsted balls-a score.

The good man dozed o'er the latest news,
Till the light of his pipe went out,
And, unheeded, the kitten, with cunning paws,
Rolled and tangled the balls about ;

Yet still sat the wife in the ancient chair,
Swaying to and fro in the firelight glare.

But anon a misty tear-drop came

In her eye of faded blue,

Then trickled down in a furrow deep,

Like a single drop of dew;

So deep was the channel-so silent the stream—

The good man saw naught but the dimmed eye-beam.

Yet he marveled much that the cheerful light

Of her eye had weary grown,

And marveled he more at the tangled balls

So he said in a gentle tone,

"I have shared thy joys since our marriage vow, Conceal not from me thy sorrows now."

Then she spoke of the time when the basket there

Was filled to the very brim,

And how there remained of the goodly pile

But a single pair—for him.

"Then wonder not at the dimmed eye-light,

"

There's but one pair of stockings to mend to-night.

'I cannot but think of the busy feet,

Whose wrappings were wont to lie

In the basket, awaiting the needle's time,
Now wandered so far away;

How the sprightly steps, to a mother dear,
Unheeded fell on the careless ear.

"For each empty nook in the basket old,
By the hearth there's a vacant seat;
And I miss the shadows from off the wall,
And the patter of many feet;

'Tis for this that a tear gathered over my sight
At the one pair of stockings to mend to-night.

"'Twas said that far through the forest wild,
And over the mountains bold,

Was a land whose rivers and darkening caves
Were gemmed with the rarest gold;
Then my first-born turned from the oaken door,
And I knew the shadows were only four."

"Another went forth on the foaming waves
And diminished the basket's store-
But his feet grew cold-so weary and cold—
They'll never be warm any more—
And this nook, in its emptiness, seemeth to me
To give forth no voice but the moan of the sea.

"Two others have gone toward the setting sun, And made them a home in its light,

And fairy fingers have taken their share
To mend by the fireside bright;

Some other baskets their garments fill-
But mine! Oh, mine is emptier still.

"Another-the dearest-the fairest-the best,
Was ta'en by the angels away,

And clad in a garment that waxeth not old,
In a land of continual day.

Oh! wonder no more at the dimmed eye-light,

While I mend the one pair of stockings to-night."

ANONYMOUS.

MORNING.

As we proceeded, the timid approach of twilight became more perceptible, the intense blue of the sky began to soften; the smaller stars, like little children, went first to rest; the sister beams of the Pleiades soon melted together, but the bright constellations of the west and north remained unchanged. Steadily the wondrous transfigura. tion went on. Hands of angels hidden from mortal eyes shifted the scenery of the heavens; the glories of night dissolved into the glories of the dawn. The blue sky now turned more softly gray; the great watch-stars shut up their holy eyes; the east began to kindle. Faint streaks of purple soon blushed along the sky; the whole celestial concave was filled with the inflowing tides of the morning light, which came pouring down from above in one great ocean of radiance; till at length, as we reached the Blue Hills, a flash of purple fire blazed out from above the horizon, and turned the dewy tear-drops of flower and leaf into rubies and diamonds. In a few seconds the everlasting gates of the morning were thrown wide open, and the lord of day, arrayed in glories too severe for the gaze of man, began his state.

EDWARD EVERETT.

OUR COUNTRY'S HONOR OUR OWN.

I profess to feel a strong attachment to the liberty of the United States-to the Constitution and free institutions of the United States