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Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for Thou art with me; Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort me.

Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: Thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

PSALM XXIV.

M HE earth is the Lord's, and the fullness thereof; the 1 world, and they that dwell therein :

For He hath founded it upon the seas, and established it upon the floods.

Who shall ascend into the hill of the Lord? or who shall stand in His holy place ?

He that hath clean hands, and a pure heart; who hath not lifted up his soul unto vanity, nor sworn deceitfully.

He shall receive the blessing from the Lord, and righteousness from the God of his salvation.

This is the generation of them that seek Him, that seek thy face, O Jacob. Selah.

Lift up your heads, O ye gates; and be ye lifted up, ye everlasting doors; and the King of glory shall come in.

Who is this King of glory? The Lord strong and mighty, the Lord mighty in battle.

Lift up your heads, O ye gates; even lift them up, ye everlasting doors; and the King of glory shall come in.

Who is this King of glory? The Lord of hosts, He is the King of Glory. Selah.

OVER THE HILL.

“MRAVELER, what lies over the hill?

1 Traveler, tell to me: I am only a child,—from the window-sill

Over I cannot see.”

“Child, there's a valley over there,
| Pretty and wooded and shy;
and a little brook that says, “Take care,

Or I'll drown you by and by !!”
“And what comes next?”—“A little town,

And a towering hill again;
More hills and valleys, up and down,

And a river now and then.”

“And what comes next?”—“A lonely moon

Without a beaten way;
And gray clouds sailing slow before

A wind that will not stay."
“And then ?”—“Dark rocks and yellow sand,

And a moaning sea beside.” And then ?"--"More sea, more sea, more land,

And rivers deep and wide.” "And then ?”—“Oh, rock and mountain and vale,

Rivers and fields and men, Over and over-a weary tale—

And round to your home again.” * And is that all? Have you told the best gos

“No; neither the best nor the end. On summer eves, away in the west

You will see a stair ascend,

“Built of all colors of lovely stones,—

A stair up into the sky,
Where no one is weary, and no one moans,

Or wants to be laid by.”
“I will go.”—“But the steps are very steep;

If you would climb up there,
You must lie at the foot, as still as sleep,
A very step of the stair.”

GEORGE MACDONALD.

THE CHILD-WIFE.

LL this time I had gone on loving Dora harder than 1 ever. If I may so express it, I was steeped in Dora. I was not merely over head and ears in love with her, I was saturated through and through. I took night walks to Norwood where she lived, and perambulated round and round the house and garden for hours together, look

and hardeninos hours together. 200k ing through crevices in the palings, using violent exertions to get my chin above the rusty nails on the top, blowing kisses at the lights in the windows, and romantically calling on the night to shield my Dora,—I don't exactly know from what, I suppose from fire, perhaps from mice, to which she had a great objection.

Dora had a discreet friend, comparatively stricken in years, almost of the ripe age of twenty, I should say, whose name was Miss Mills. Dora called her Julia. She was the bosom friend of Dora. Happy Miss Mills !

One day Miss Mills said: “Dora is coming to stay with me. She is coming the day after to-morrow. If you would like to call, I am sure papa would be happy to see you."

I passed three days in a luxury of wretchedness. At last, arrayed for the purpose, at a vast expense, I went to Miss Mills's, fraught with a declaration. Mr. Mills was not at home. I didn't expect he would be. Nobody wanted him. Miss Mills was at home. Miss Mills would do.

I was shown into a room up stairs, where Miss Mills and Dora were. Dora’s little dog Jip was there. Miss Mills was copying music, and Dora was painting flowers. What were my feelings when I recognized flowers I had given her!

Miss Mills was very glad to see me, and very sorry her papa was not at home, though I thought we all bore that with fortitude. Miss Mills was conversational for a few minutes, and then laying down her pen, got up and left the room.

I began to think I would put it off till to-morrow.

“I hope your poor horse was not tired when he got home at night from that picnic,” said Dora, lifting up her beautiful eyes. “It was a long way for him.”

I began to think I would do it to-day. “ It was a long way for him, for he had nothing to uphold him on the journey."

“Wasn't he fed, poor thing?" asked Dora.
I began to think I would put it off till to-morrow.

“ Ye-yes, he was well taken care of. I mean he had not the unutterable happiness that I had in being so near to you."

I saw now that I was in for it, and it must be done on the spot.

“I don't know why you should care for being near me,” said Dora, " or why you should call it a happiness. But of course you don't mean what you say. Jip, you Aaughty boy, come here !"

I don't know how I did it but I did it in a moment

I intercepted Jip. I had Dora in my arms. I was full of eloquence. I never stopped for a word. I told her how I loved her. I told her I should die without her. I told her that I idolized and worshiped her. Jip barked madly all the time. My eloquence increased, and I said, if she would like me to die for her, she had but to say the word, and I was ready. I had loved her to distraction every minute, day and night, since I first set eyes upon her. I loved her at that minute to distraction. I should always love her, every minute, to distraction. Lovers had loved before, and lovers would love again; but no lover had ever loved, might, could, would, or should ever love, as I loved. Dora. The more I raved, the more Jip barked. Each of us in his own way got more mad every moment.

Well, well! Dora and I were sitting on the sofa by and by quiet enough, and Jip was lying in her lap winking peacefully at me. It was off my mind. I was in a state of perfect rapture. Dora and I were engaged.

Being poor, I felt it necessary the next time I went to my darling to expatiate on that unfortunate drawback. I soon carried desolation into the bosom of our joysnot that I meant to do it, but that I was so full of the subject—by asking Dora without the smallest preparation, if she could love a beggar.

“How can you ask me anything so foolish ? Love a beggar!"

“Dora, my own dearest, I am a beggar!"

"How can you be such a silly thing,” replied Dora, slapping my hand," as to sit there telling such stories ? I'll make Jip bite you, if you are so ridiculous.”

But I looked so serious that Dora began to cry. She did nothing but exclaim, O dear! O dear! And oh, she was so frightened! And where was Julia Mills? And oh, take her to Julia Mills, and go away, please! until I was almost beside myself.

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