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ALBERT S. HAWKINS. TAE poems of Mr. Hawkins have appeared quite extensively in the periodical press. Mr.
MRS. MARY J. O. WHITING.
BORN: NEW YORK CITY, AUG. 17, 1834. THE poems of Mrs. Whiting have appeared in the Union Signal, Daughters of America and various other publications. She was married in 1864 and resides in Belioond, Iowa. Mrs. Whiting is a great advocate of temperance, and is very popular in her adopted city.
TO MY LAST TOOTH.
a sudden end. Through thick and thin, whate'er betide we've
firmly held together;'Tis hard to break the tender ties, the loving
cords to sever. 'Twas sixty years ago when you, a pearl of
rarest beauty, First came to me to take your place and do a
servant's duty. You did what all the world has done from
generations old, You pushed your little brother out and left
him in the cold. And you usurped the place he held, while to
the dog's he went:It may be only just that you should after him
be sent. You've served me well, stood firmly by,
ALBERT S. HAWKINS though you have grumbled sore,
Hawkins is a resident of Midland, Texas, And I have firmly stood by you, and all your
where be has already gained great popularity sharpness bore.
and respect as a journalist and lawyer. How many times with aching pain my tongue
A LOVER'S LAMENT. has wagged its way,
In the love of a maiden I once took delight, Because your cruel biting self forgot where
But where is the love I once knew? duty lay. But that is passed, we'll let it go; it gives me
It has gone! It has gone! For alas, the fair greater pain To feel your leaving comes so hard, and we'll
Like all of her kind, proved untrue. not meet again.
She said that her love for me would endure, But I'll not ask you to remain, your lot is sad
That lore like her love would remain, (name,
But memory of falsehouds that sullen her and lone, And you're the last of all your set who've
My heart will forever retain. broke with you and gone;
Her words were spoke in jest I suppose, Then go my friend. It grieves me sore that the
My words were in earnest I know, cruel steely clasp
My gift was pure love, not much you will say, Must pinch your brittle, broken crown with
'Twas all that I had to bestow. its clinching grasp.
She accepted a heart, an innocent heart, But so it is. When we are old and useless
A heart that was trusting and true; (again, grown - oh! oh!!
Having gained this, her end, she turned then You're sticking tight--oh! oh!! oh!!! oh!!!!
To conquests more daring and new. oh, will you never gol
But fair maiden I'll say, tho' now far away. Farewell;- farewell;- an aching void within That a lesson I've learned, yes 'tis true, my gum I feel;
When a loved one is wanted, some other I'll 'Tis all that's left of my poor tooth;- may
seek, time the anguish heal.
| When a flirt is desired, I'll seek you.
JULIUS LAFAYETTE M'DONALD.
Then the night space around where the angel
has been cess. Since 1887 he has labored in Toledo, | Is illumined by myriad wings wbere Elder J. L. McDonald has a devoted | In an instant- the host of heaven break band of worshipers to minister unto. He
forth was married in 1883 to Miss Sadie C. Agner. And together exultantly sing: The poems of this minister have appeared quite extensively in the religious press.
Glory, glory to God, in the highest - above
Peace on earth and good will toward men. Now night come between, and the angels are
hid ANNUNCIATION OF CHRIST'S ADVENT.
From the shepherds, entirely again.
Let us rise, say the shepherds, and hasten And the plains of Judea were startled from
To the city of blessed Bethlehem; By a song that the angels did sing.
And see this great Savior, made known unto Behold the poor shepherds attending their
And his parents, and worship with them.
WILLIAM LEIGHTON, JR.
| Old mother earth, so great thy family, BORN: CAMBRIDGE, MASS., JUNE 22, 1833.
Small is the share of love thou giv'st to one, This gentleman has published several books, Out of thy teeming, ripe fecundity, and is well and favorably known in the liter Brood after brood thy countless children ary world. Two dramatic poems from his pen,
come. The Sons of Godwin and At the Court of
Lo, 1, thy son, to thy maternity
In human loves perhaps thou hast no part,
Hath summer's sunshine no beguiling art,
WILLIAM LEIGHTON, JR. King Edwin, are very fine; and a long poem entitled Change has been well and favorably received. He has also written several Shakesperian sketches and prose essays. Mr. Leighton was married in 1860 to Miss Mary Jane Reed, and is now living at Concord, Mass.
THE SONS OF GODWIN.
And hold some friendly token up
To glad my yearning sight,
Into the empty night.
CLARENCE H. PEARSON.
BORN: OSSIPEE, N.H., FEB. 21, 1859. The subject of this sketch evinced a taste for literature at a very early age, and at fourteen published for one year an amateur journal. In 1882 he was for a time city editor of the Saginaw Herald. Subsequently Mr. Pearson was admitted to the bar, and in 1883
The air was laden with perfume,
Moonlight and love and apple bloom;
For hearts were trumps.
A rival suitor to her door
Of gold and silver muckle store.
Diamonds were trumps.
I sacrificed at Bacchus' shrine.
For clubs were trumps.
Outside the winter's wind doth moan,
And I must play my hand alone.
For spades are trumps.
Thou wert a blossom beautiful and sweet began the practice of his profession at Glad That bloomed a space to glad our worldly win. In 1884 he was married to Miss Flora 0.
sight, Biehn. Mr. Pearson has contributed to the
But envious angels thought it was not meet Detroit Free Press, Drake's Magazine, Texas
That earth should wear a flower so pure and Siftings, and other prominent publications.
[feet Suffering much from rheumatism, Mr. Pear And bore thee hence on voiceless wing and son removed to his old home at Laconia, N.H., | To deck the bosom of the Infinite. where, as he has humorously remarked, he is dividing his time between law, literature and
MY AUTOGRAPH. lumbago.
My autograph she begged the night
When first her beauty filled my sight;
Not just your name, you know, quoth she, They say the shades of those who pass
But something nice beside, maybe Death's mystic river o'er,
A poem or a maxim trite. Anon return to scenes and friends
I yielded to the witching light Beloved of them of yore.
Of her soft eyes and did indite, They tell of wondrous secrets learned,
Entwined with flowers of poesy, From those whose souls abide
My autograph. In that dim, distant land that lies
She perches on my knee to-night, Beyond the Stygian tide.
And in her eyes so clear and bright I listen unbelieving still,
The old light dwells -- ah, woe is me! For were thy spirits free
My check-book in her hand I see, To leave Death's realm, I know that thou And once again she begs me write Would'st sometime come to me:
JOHN VANCE CHENEY.
MY CASTLE IN THE AIR.
Or in the east or in the west,
Where shall I build my bird a nest; AETER teaching for a while Mr. Cheney en Northward or southward – whither roam tered a law-ofhce, and was admitted to the To build my little love a home? bar a few years later. Ill-health compelled
Up yonder, in the clean, sweet air, Mr. Cheney to visit the Pacific coast, where
I think that I could keep her, there, he now resides at San Francisco. He has pub
Too much an angel for the ground, lished three volumes, The Old Doctor, Thistle
For Heaven somewhat too – warm and round. Drift, and Wood Blooms, the first a prose work, and the latter two volumes in verse. He
DEATH OF AUTUMN. was married in 1876 to Miss Perkins, a hand
They have led her away, some and brilliant lady who had just return Up the stairs of day; ed from a sojourn of six years in Europe - a Step by step in the mellow light, graduate of the Royal Conservatory of Stutt Have led her away gart. Mr. Cheney is an industrious man, and
To the turret gray is librarian in the Free Library of his adopted | Where morning meets the night. city. MY CHOICE.
EMMA HOWARD WIGHT. I'd rather be
BORN: BALTIMORE, MD., Aug. 25, 1863. 'Neath a greenwood tree,
Miss Wight was educated at the Baltimore With a song and a handful of daisies,
Academy of the Visitation, and when quite Than the darling of victory
young evinced a decided talent for writing, In the blaze of the wide world's praises. I'd rather ride On the wings inside, Which waft where the world may not after, Than fold fair Fame as a bride To feed on her sighs and her laughter.
A DAY DREAM.
EMMA HOWARD WIGHT. After leaving school she wrote occasionally for amusement, but never for publication, until a little over a year ago at the earnest solicitation of her friend, Miss Bertba von Hillern, who is herself well-known as an artist and writer. Articles by Miss Wight have ap peared in various papers, which hare been extensively copied. She has also written serer al novels, which are soon to be published.