21. O blessings on his kindly voice and on his silver hair! And blessings on his whole life long until he meet me there!

O blessings on his kindly heart and on his silver head! A thousand times I blessed him as he knelt beside my bed.

22. He taught me all the mercy, for he showed me all the sin. Now, though my lamp was lighted late, there's One will

let me in ;

Nor would I now be well, mother, again, if that could be,
For my desire is but to pass to Him that died for me.

23. So now I think my time is near. I trust it is. I know The blessed music went that way my soul will have to go. And for myself, indeed, I care not if I go to-day,

But, Effie, you must comfort her when I am passed away.

24. O look! the sun begins to rise, the heavens are in a glow; He shines upon a hundred fields, and all of them I know. And there I move no longer now, and thus his light may shine

Wild flowers in the valley for other hands than mine.

25. O sweet and strange it seems to me, that ere this day is done

The voice that now is speaking may be beyond the sun-
Forever and forever with those just souls and true—
And what is life, that we should moan? why make we
such ado?

26. Forever and forever, all in a blessed home

And then to wait a little while till you and Effie come-
To be within the light of God, as I lie upon your

breast

And the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are

at rest.

LXXI. THE GRAVES OF A HOUSEHOLD.

FELICIA HEMANS.

1. They grew in beauty, side by side,
They filled one home with glee ;—
Their graves are severed, far and wide,
By mount, and stream, and sea.

2. The same fond mother bent at night
O'er each fair sleeping brow;
She had each folded flower in sight-
Where are those dreamers now?

3. One, 'midst the forest of the west,
By a dark stream is laid—

The Indian knows his place of rest,
Far in the cedar shade.

4. The sea, the blue lone sea, hath one-
He lies where pearls lie deep;
He was the loved of all, yet none
O'er his low bed may weep.

5. One sleeps where southern vines are drest
Above the noble slain;

He wrapt his colors round his breast
On a blood-red field of Spain.

6. And one-o'er her the myrtle showers
Its leaves, by soft winds fanned;
She faded 'midst Italian flowers-
The last of that bright band.

7. And parted thus they rest, who played
Beneath the same green tree;

Whose voices mingled as they prayed
Around one parent knee!

8. They that with smiles lit up the hall, And cheered with song the hearth— Alas! for love, if thou wert all,

And nought beyond, O earth!

LXXII.-A SONG FOR LITTLE MAY.

EMILY H. MILLER.

1. Have you heard the waters singing,
Little May?

Where the willows green are leaning
O'er their way—

Do you know how low and sweet,
O'er the pebbles at their feet,
Are the words the waves repeat,
Night and day?

2. Have you heard the robins singing,
Little one?

Where the rosy day is breaking-
When 'tis done,

Have you heard the wooing breeze,
In the blossomed orchard trees,
And the drowsy hum of bees,
In the sun?

3. All the earth is full of music,
Little May!

Bird, and bee, and water singing
On its way-

Let their silver voices fall

On thy heart with happy call,

“Praise the Lord! who loveth all,
Night and day."

LXXIII. THE SAGACIOUS DOG.

HARRIET B. STOWE.

1. Aunt Esther's stories were not generally fairy tales, but stories about real things,—and oftener on her favorite subject of the habits of animals, and the different animals she had known, than about any thing else.

2. One of these was a famous Newfoundland dog, named Prince, which belonged to an uncle of hers in the country, and was, as we thought, a far more useful and faithful member of society than many of us youngsters. Prince used to be a grave, sedate dog, that considered himself put in trust of the farm, the house, the cattle, and all that was on the place. At night he slept before the kitchen door, which, like all other doors in the house in those innocent days, was left unlocked all night; and if such a thing had ever happened as that a tramper or an improper person of any kind had even touched the latch of the door, Prince would have been up attending to him as master of ceremonies.

3. At early dawn, when the family began to stir, Prince was up and out to superintend the milking of the cows, after which he gathered them all together, and started out with them to pasture, padding steadily along behind, dashing out once in a while to reclaim some wanderer that thoughtlessly began to make her breakfast by the roadside, instead of saving her appetite for the pastures, as a properly behaved cow should.

4. Arrived at the pasture-lot, Prince would take down the bars with his teeth, drive in the cows, put up bars, and then soberly turn tail and pad off home, and carry the dinnerbasket for the men to the "mowing-lot," or the potato-field, or wherever the labors of the day might be. There arrived, he was extremely useful to send on errands after any thing forgotten or missing: "Prince! the rake is missing; go to the barn and fetch it!" and away Prince would go, and come back with his head very high, and the long rake very judiciously balanced in his mouth.

5. One day a friend was wondering at the sagacity of the

dog, and his master thought he would show off his tricks in a still more original style; and so, calling Prince to him, he said, "Go home and bring Puss to me!

Away bounded Prince towards the farm-house, and, looking about, found the younger of the two cats, fair Mistress Daisy, busy cleaning her white velvet in the summer sun. Prince took her gently up by the nape of her neck, and carried her, hanging head and heels together, to the fields, and laid her down at his master's feet.

6. "How's this, Prince?" said the master; "you didn't understand me. I said the cat, and this is the kitten. Go right back and bring the old cat."

Prince looked very much ashamed of his mistake, and turned away, with drooping ears and tail, and went back to the house.

The old cat was a venerable, somewhat portly old dame, and no small lift for Prince; but he re-appeared with old Puss hanging from his jaws, and set her down, a little discomposed, but not a whit hurt, by her unexpected ride.

7. Sometimes, to try Prince's skill, his master would hide his gloves or riding-whip in some out-of-the-way corner, and when ready to start, would say, "Now, where have I left my gloves? Prince, good fellow, run in, and find them;" and Prince would dash into the house, and run hither and thither with his nose to every nook and corner of the room; and, no matter how artfully they were hid, he would upset and tear his way to them. He would turn up the corners of the carpet, snuff about the bed, run his nose between the feather-bed and mattress, pry into the crack of a half-opened drawer, and show as much zeal and ingenuity as a policeman, and seldom could any thing be so hid as to baffle his perseverance.

8. Many people laugh at the idea of being careful of a dog's feelings, as if it were the height of absurdity; and yet it is a fact that some dogs are as exquisitely sensitive to pain, shame, and mortification, as any human being. See, when a dog is spoken harshly to, what a universal droop seems to come over him. His head and ears sink, his tail drops and slinks between his legs, and his whole air seems to say, “I wish I could sink into the earth to hide myself."

9. Prince's young master, without knowing it, was the