Two Wheels

She slnin by her wheel iit the low cottage door Which tlie longeveuinK Bhadovvs are tretching before, With a iiiusic as sweel as bhe niusic wluch seems Breathed softly tmd fainl 11 the car of oiir dreamg. - Jolin G. Whittier. If thegood Quaker poet oould only look back, Auci oasl liis mild eye over progress' hot track, From the niaidens that were to llio muluens that be, Oh, weeping Jerusalem, what would he see? The malden who sang by her wheel, ;it the door, Ian't ruonlOK that kind of a wheel :my more; Bhe splnnetb not flux by tlie cottage dooi neat : She straddles the wheel aud gois forth on the street. The glrl with the wheel, in the good Quaker's day ('alm. qniet and modest, was splnnlng away Where the cool waters flowwl and the light zephyra fair, Blew the truant locks loose that had straycd from her hair. And her ïnanuer was tranquil, her skin lily white And her gow it ivas clean, and her speech was pol He. In short, thls fair rnaiden, the wheel whopossessed, Was a puttern of rnodesty, coolness and rest. Thegirl wltli the wlieel at the present goes out. Without any wenk hesitatloo or doubt, And in din, and in dust, perspiratlon and heat, Shc pushes lier way 'moni; thu teams on the street. Sbe bas large baggy trousers.no bothersome sklrt, A mauly oravat, and a coat, and a shirt, Aud face beeomea red a.-s she onvvard doth plow, And the bot perspii'alion stands forlh on her brow. Shades of our grandmothers, look o'er the tide; Thinl; oí your Epioning the cottage beside, Xhen look at tliese bloomers, this shirt aud cravat, Shade of our ancestors, where are we at?