which you see. On the day after my arrival these young persons paid me a visit, and here is a humble portraiture of them, and an accurate account of a conversation which took place between us, as taken down on the spot by the elder of the interlocutors. Jim is five years old: Sady is seben: only Jim is a great deal fatter. Jim and Sady have had sausage and hominy for breakfast. One sausage, Jim's was the biggest. Jim can sing but declines on being pressed and looks at Sady and grins. They both work in de garden. Jim has been licked by Master but Sady never. These are their best clothes. They go to church in these clothes. Heard a fine sermon. yesterday but don't know what it was about. Never heard of England never heard of America. Like orangees best. Don't know any old woman who sells orangees. (A pecuniary transaction takes place.) Will give that quarter dollar to Pa. That was Pa who waited at dinner. Are hungry but dinner not cooked yet. Jim all the while is revolving on his axis and when begged to stand still turns round in a fitful manner. Exeunt Jim and Sady with a cake apiece which the housekeeper gives them. Jim tumbles downstairs. In his little red jacket, his little-his little ?-his immense red trousers. On my word the fair proportions of Jim are not exaggerated-such a queer little laughing blackamoorkin I have never seen. Seen? I see him now, and Sady, and a halfdozen more of the good people, creeping on silent bare feet to the drawing-room door when the music begins, and listening with all their ears, with all their eyes. Good night, kind little, warm-hearted little Sady and Jim! May peace soon be within your doors, and plenty within your walls! I have had so much kindness there, that I grieve to think of friends in arms, and brothers in anger. Sero sed serio Last not Lost. MATTHEW, Chap. xx. HE dawn is on the hills and here we stand Calls us to labour in the early hours. Work in His vineyard is our chiefest pleasure, And His approval payment beyond measure. The Master comes; He calls His labouring throng, And forth they go obedient to their toil, A blessed company! I hear the song Of their rejoicing as they till the soil; Ah, why was I not called? I thought to speed But be it so. It is the Master's doing! I will put forth my powers and do His will, Outside His vineyard, ever nobly showing The Master's glory in the servant's zeal; So in the third hour when His voice is heard, Before all others I shall be preferred. Again passed by! Oh, Master, this is hard! Have I not, for my labour's sake, some claim? I, who have sung Thy praise and won regard From men for my allegiance to Thy nameAll know I love Thee, Master, wherefore then. Do this despite to me in sight of men? Forgive me if I murmur! I will prove Myself more worthy. Lord, Thou dost not know me But how unwearying is the heart of love, How resolute, how faithful I will show Thee; So in the sixth hour, when the heat is strong The sixth hour is gone by—and I uncalled! My captive senses heard and saw Thee not. I am unworthy to be called, unfit For the Great Master's service. He passed by me, Called in the others, and now here I sit, My hands before me idle. Master, try me!— Cast me not off! let me Thy work essay Though I have been unfaithful through the day! The sun is setting; night is coming down, The night when no man works. Oh Lord, dear Lord, Though I am poor, can nothing call my own, Though I have sinned as none before, accord Thy mercy! By Thy mercy I will stand, Callest Thou, Lord? I thought I heard Thy voice Lifted by Thee out of this pit of woe! Speak not of payment, Lord! But let me prove MARY HOWITT. |