Frora the Youth's Companion. Grandmother's knlttlng has lost lts charraUnheeiied It lies In her ampie lap, v hile the sunset's crlmson, soft and warm, Touches the frllls of her snowy cap. She Is gazlng on two besMe the bars, Uuder the maple- who Uttle care For the growlng dusk, r the rlslug stars, Or the hint of frost in the autumn air. One Is a slender slip of a glrl. And one a man lu the prlde of youth ; The malden pure as the purest pearl, Ihe lover strong In hissleadfast truth. "Sweet, my own, as rose of June," He un, full low, o'er the golden hend. It would sound to her llke a deur old tune, Couid graudiuotlier hcr ihe soft, woi.i.s sald. Kor it seemed but a little whll ago Hluce under the maple, Iesli1e the bars, Bbestood a glrl, whlle the sunsets glow Melted away 'mld the eveulng stars. And one, her lover, so brlght and brave, Spake words as tender, in toue uu l.w, Ihey come u her now from beyoud the grave. The words of her darllug so long ago. " My own one, sweet as a rose In June ! " Her oyes are dim and her huir is white, lint her beart keeps lime to the old love tune As she watches her daughter's chlld to-ulght. A world between them, perhaps you say Yes. One has read the story tlirougu One has her beautiful yesterday, And one to-morrow fair to view. lint little you dream how fond nprayer ' V_ I loes np to uod, through Hls sifver sUirs r rom the aged woman gazing there For the two who Unger beslde the bars.