One thing yet there is that none
Hearing ere its chime be done,
Knows not well the sweetest one
Heard of man beneath the sun,
Hoped in heaven hereafter;

Soft and strong and loud and light,
Very sound of very light

Heard from morning's rosiest height,
When the soul of all delight

Fills a child's clear laughter.

Golden bells of welcome rolled
Never forth such notes nor told
Hours so blithe in tones so bold
As the radiant month of gold

Here that rings forth heaven.
If the golden-crested wren
Were a nightingale, why, then,
Something seen and heard of men.
Might be half as sweet as when
Laughs a child of seven.

Kitty of Coleraine

BY EDWARD LYSAGHT.

As beautiful Kitty one morning was tripping,

With a pitcher of milk from the fair of Coleraine, When she saw me she stumbled, the pitcher down.

tumbled,

And all the sweet buttermilk watered the plain. "Oh, what shall I do now? 'twas looking at you, now! Sure, sure, such a pitcher I'll ne'er meet again; 'Twas the pride of my dairy! O Barney M'Cleary, You're sent as a plague to the girls of Coleraine!"

I sat down beside her, and gently did chide her
That such a misfortune should give her such pain;

A kiss then I gave her, and, ere I did leave her,

She vowed for such pleasure she'd break it again. 'Twas hay-making season—I can't tell the reasonMisfortunes will never come single, 'tis plain; For very soon after poor Kitty's disaster The devil a pitcher was whole in Coleraine.

My Dream

ANONYMOUS.

I dreamed a dream next Tuesday week,
Beneath the apple trees;

I thought my eyes were big pork pies,
And my nose was Stilton cheese.
The clock struck twenty minutes to six,
When a frog sat on my knee;

I asked him to lend me eighteen pence,
But he borrowed a shilling of me.

Paradise

BY GEORGE BIRDSEYE.

[A Hindoo Legend.]

A Hindoo died-a happy thing to do
When twenty years united to a shrew.
Released, he hopefully for entrance cries.
Before the gates of Brahma's Paradise.

"Hast been through Purgatory?" Brahma said.
"I have been married," and he hung his head.
"Come in, come in, and welcome, too, my son!
Marriage and Purgatory are as one."

In bliss extreme he entered heaven's door,

And knew the peace he ne'er had known before.
He scarce had entered in the Garden fair,

Another Hindoo asked admission there.

The self-same question Brahma asked again: "Hast been through Purgatory?" "No; what then?" "Thou canst not enter!" did the god reply. "He that went in was no more there than I." "Yes, that is true, but he has married been,

And so on earth has suffered for all sin."

66

Married? 'Tis well; for I've been married twice!" "Begone! We'll have no fools in Paradise!"

من من

Chorus of Women

ARISTOPHANES.

[From the "Thesmophoriazusae."]

They're always abusing the women,
As a terrible plauge to men;
They say we're the root of all evil
And repeat it again and again—
Of war, and quarrels, and bloodshed,
All mischief, be what it may.
And pray, then, why do you marry us,
If we're all the plagues you say?
And why do you take such care of us,
And keep us so safe at home,
And are never easy a moment
If ever we chance to roam?

When you ought to be thanking Heaven
That your plague is out of the way,
You all keep fussing and fretting-
"Where is my Plague to-day?"
If a Plague peeps out of the window,
Up goes the eyes of men;

If she hides, then they all keep staring
Until she looks out again.

Lines by a Medium

ANONYMOUS.

I might not, if I could;

I should not, if I might;
Yet if I should, I would,
And, shoulding, I should quite!

I must not, yet I may;

I can, and still I must;
But ah! I cannot-nay,
To must I may not, just!

I shall, although I will,
But be it understood,
If I may, can, shall—still

I might, could, would, or should!

The V-a-s-e

BY JAMES JEFFREY ROCHE.

From the maddening crowd they stand apart, The maidens four and the Work of Art;

And none might tell from sight alone
In which had culture ripest grown-

The Gotham Millions fair to see,
The Philadelphia Pedigree,

The Boston Mind of azure hue,
Or the Soulful Soul from Kalamazoo;

For all loved Art in a seemly way,
With an earnest soul and a capital A.

Long they worshipped; but no one broke
The sacred stillness, until up spoke

The Western one from the nameless place,
Who, blushing, said, "What a lovely vase!"

Over three faces a sad smile flew,
And they edged away from Kalamazoo.

But Gotham's haughty soul was stirred
To crush the stranger with one small word;

Deftly hiding reproof in praise,

She cries, ""Tis, indeed, a lovely vaze!"

But brief her unworthy triumph, when
The lofty one from the home of Penn,

With the consciousness of two grandpapas,
Exclaims, "It is quite a lovely vahs!"

And glances round with an anxious thrill,
Awaiting the word of Beacon Hill.

But the Boston maid smiles courteouslee,
And gently murmurs, "Oh, pardon me!

"I did not catch your remark, because

I was so entranced with that charming vaws!"

Dies erit praegelida

Sinistra quum Bostonia.

Evil Easier than Good

Ere half the good I planned to do

Was done, the short-breathed day was through. Had my intents been dark instead of fair

I had done all, and still had time to spare.

-T. B. Aldrich.