Gems In Verse

Bhe stood in the roJrd flret twilight Hy the lire f the gypay camp, Burroundad ly shadows, Imlf startled Hy tliu crackle oí torees' tramp; New Lniiland. blue ey&d and slender. And Italy, haggard and feil; iia.t had been Bpoken - the future Those ominous Upa sbuld forotelL 'M y nnsband," aheblnshed; "shall I see him Ere the maplea turn to gold?" "Your lmsband," she pondered, "your husband. Ere olivos Rn.' picked ynu bchold; II is face la handeome and manly; His hand lias the grasp of a kint;; Ask not bcyond thla for the harveets Know only how fair is the spring." "In palace or cottage or cntlo. In city or town shall we live'" "Ah. danghter, yon ak of the future More than ymi wish I ahonld give. If the hand that shall gaard and proteot you Has lovc in its inv, ne'ei oompkdn; Vour home : hall be sweeter for dreaining, Though your castle's- a castlc in Spain." -Charles Kuowles Bolton. A rhilosopher. Znck Bumstead uster flosserfize About the ocean an the skies, Au ab and ga frora morn till noon About the other aids the moon, An 'bout the natur' of the place Ten miles be-end the end of space. An if his wife sh'd ask the crank Ef he wouldn't kinder try to yank Hissclf outdoors an git some wood To make her kitchen iirc good, So she c'd bake her beans an pies, He'd say, 'Tve gotter flosseríize." An then be"d set and flosserflze About the natur' an the size Of angels' wings, an think an gawp An wonder how they made 'em flop. He wondered ef yer bored a hole Right throughthe yerthf'um pole topóle, An then sh'd trip an stumble through, The best thing you had oughter to do. He'd calkalate how long a skid Twould take to move the sun, he did, An if the skid wuz strong an prime, It couldn't be moved to supper time. An w'en his wife 'ud ask the lout Ef he wouldn't kinder waltz about An take a rag an shoo the nies, He'd Bay, "I've gotter flosserfize." An so he'd set an flosserfize About the yerth an sea an skies, An scratch his head an ask the cause Oí w'at there wuz before time wuz, An w'at the universe 'ud do Bimeby w'en time hed all got through! An jest how fur we'd hev to climb Ef we sh'd travel out er time, An ef we'd need w'en we got there To keep our watehes in repair. Then, ef his wife sh'd ask the gawk Ef he wouldn't kinder try to walk To where she had the table spread An kinder git his stomach fed He'd leap for that ar kitchen door An say, "W'y didn't you speak afore?" An w'en he'd got his supper et, He'd set an set an set an set, An fold his arms an shet his eyes, An set an set an flosserñzc. - S. W. Foss. Ik-ii Jim Was Dead. When Jim was dead, Hit sarved him right," the nabors sed, ' An 'bused him fer the life he'd led, An him a-lying thar at rest With not a rose upon his breast! Ah! menny cruel words they sed When Jim was dead. "Jes' killed hisself." "Too mean ter live." They didn't hev one word ter give Of comfort as they hovered near An gazed on Jim a-lying there! "Thar ain't no use to talk," they sed, "He's better dead!" But suddenly the room growed still, While God's white sunshine seemed terfill The dark place with a gleam of life, An o'er the dead she bent- Jim's wifel An with her lips close, close to his. As though he knew an feit the kiss, 6he sobbed - a touchin sight ter see - "Ah, Jim was always good ter me!" I teil you when that cum to light It kinder set the dead man right, An round the weepin woman they Throwed kindly arms of love that day, An mingled with her own they shed The tenderest-tears - when Jim was dead. -Frank L. Stanton. A Gift Divine. This gift is given, This gift f rom heaven. Unto a few- Through veins with human frailty filled A glow divine is found lictQled. There's music rare Played in the air To such a one. And measured by its mystic flow His breathiug and his moveinents go. As through the sky The meteors fly, So darts his glance, Or it would seem as though soft hand Had wared before his face like fans. By man and beast, From great to least He wil) be loved. A child will sit upon his knee And seek his face confldingly. He cannot rest Without the best The world can give. Our truest thought to him we bring; Our sweetest song to him we sing. And if we find, Likc all maiAind, He, too, can sin, We feel, although we sigh or weep, His part divine is but asleep. - Eleanor B. Caldwcll. Drawing the Cider. To draw the eider we were sent - We two on mirtli and mlschief bent- She bore the candle Haring high; The old blue figUred pitcher, 1. Wliat shadows o'er the cellar wall Tossed. huge and shapeless, dim and tall! What eerie sounds from raek and bin. And casks that peut real spirits in! The spigot tornad, both lieads bent low To watcli the amber current flow; The candle light flared strangely dim- The pitcher must not overbrim. So close, so close our faces drew, Our lips had touched before we knew. And ere tbey parted- rogues disgraced- Six quarts of eider went to waste! -Frank Leslie's Weekly. Lot Is Not Free. Love is not free to take, like sun and air. Nor give away for naught to any one. It is no common right for men to share. Like all tliings precious, it is sought and won. Bo if another is more loved than you Say not, "It is unjust," but say, "If she Has earned more love than I it is her due; When I deserve more it will come to me." But if jour longing be for love indeed TH tencli you how to win it- a sure way. Love and be lovely- that is all you need. And what you wisli for will be yours some lay. - Susan Coolidge. From too much love of living, From hope and fear set free, We thank with brief thanksgiving Whatcver gods there be, That no life lives forever, That dead men rise up never, That even the weariest river Winds somewhore safe to sea.