Beneath those well-worn coats of gray and blue
Were generous, tender hearts, both brave and true.
The sentry stopped and rested on his gun,
While back to home his thoughts did swiftly run,
Thinking of loving wife and children there,
With no one left to guide them, none to care.
Stripling lads not strong enough to bear
The weight of sabre, or the knapsack wear,
Tried to stop with foolish, boyish pride
The starting tear; as well try stop the tide
Of ceaseless, rolling ocean, just as well,
As stop those tears which fast and faster fell.

Then, lo! by mutual sympathy there rose

A shout tremendous, forgetting they were foes,
A simultaneous shout, which came from every voice,
And seemed to make the very heavens rejoice.
Sweet music's power! one chord doth make us wild,
But change the strain we weep as little child;
Touch yet another, men charge the battery gun,
And by those martial strains--a victory's won;
It matters not from whence, how far you roam,
No heart so cold that does not love "sweet home."

A BALLAD OF CAPRI..

On sunny Capri's mountain heights
Tiberius built him villas twelve:
Beneath their ruined shadows now
Laborious peasants dig and delve.

Still Capri's orange groves are sweet,
And Capri's peasant maids are fair;
They scale her rocks with shoeless feet,
And golden arrows in their hair.
Where once the Roman Emperor dwelt,
A dark-eyed stranger came to see,
But all too slender was his strength
To climb the heights of fair Capri.

A donkey-maid was standing near

And soon her glance espied his need;
With gentle grace her help was lent
To place the stranger on her steed.

They wandered high, they wandered low,
O'er hillsides covered with the vine;
She gave him of the island's wealth

In draughts of golden Capri wine.
And while her fingers held his rein,
His eyes were turned upon her face;
Her own were bent beneath his glance
With more than coyish peasant grace.
They climbed each rugged mountain-steep,
They wandered through each sunny vale,
And soon the golden orange heard
The whispering of a lover's tale.

Who visits Capri's slopes to-day
Will see a stately villa rise;
It s glittering turrets greet the run
That grows in Capri's azure skies.
And as the stranger mounts the hill,
Some village maid will point with pride
To where now dwells the stately prince,
Who made a donkey-girl his bride.
And every day along the shore

Each peasant girl has waited since,
With hand upon her donkey's rein,
To greet the coming of her prince.

-Harper's Weekly.

A LOVELY SCENE.

We stood at the bars as the sun went down
Behind the hills on a summer day.

Her eyes were tender, and big and brown,
Her breath as sweet as the new-mown hay.

Far from the west the faint sunshine
Glanced sparkling off her golden hair,

Those calm, deep eyes were turned toward mine,
And a look of contentment rested there.

I see her bathed in the sunlight flood,
I see her standing peacefully now;
Peacefully standing and chewing her cud,
As I rubbed her ears,-that Jersey cow.

HOW A WIDOW MOURNED.

She was a handsome and wealthy young widow, and had but just lost her husband. Full of grief over the loss of her beloved one, she sought a dealer in monuments, a friend of the dear departed.

Seeing the sympathetic face of her husband's friend, the tears burst from her eyes as she greeted him. “You have heard it then; George is gone."

Yes, he had heard it.

"And now," said she, “I want to get a monument, the finest and most imposing monument that you can make. I don't care for the expense. You have them costing as much as ten thousand dollars, do you not?" she ventured.

"Oh, yes, he could build a splendid monument for that. He would prepare a design and submit it to her.”

"You will have it ready soon, will you not?" she pleaded, "This evening?"

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No, not this evening," he replied, but he would hurry it up as fast as possible and bring it to her residence. And so it was settled, and she went away very grateful for the ready sympathy and anxiously expectant for the design.

And then the monument man got out an old design and had it transferred to a piece of clean paper, and in fifteen minutes was ready for the widow, but of course it wouldn't do to show up for a week or so. The long days dragged out their weary length finally, and the marble man, assuming an appropriately funereal countenance, sought out the widow and submitted his work. He found her somewhat reconciled to her loss and a little inclined to be critical, but on the whole she was pleased with the design.

"But," she said, "I have been talking over the matter with my sister, and she thinks five thousand dollars ought to buy a very rich monument. Could not you make one like that for five thousand dollars?"

"No," responded he, "but I can build quite a handsome monument for five thousand dollars. Shall I make

a design of one for that figure?"

"Yes, I wish you would, please, and I will come to your office and examine it in a week or two."

"I can make some alterations in these plans and have it ready very soon," he urged. "Indeed, I could bring it around to-morrow just as well as not."

'Oh, no, I won't trouble you to do so. There is no particular hurry about it, and I will call upon you; it's my turn, you know," and she smiled graciously upon him as she bowed him out.

Well, what was a poor monument man to do? He could only wait, and he did wait, busying himself meanwhile in getting up beautiful and elaborate designs. One day he met the lady on the street, dressed in the merest apology for half-mourning. He bowed obsequiously and informed her that the design was finished, and he thought would not fail to be perfectly satisfactory.

"Oh," she said, "I have been so busy, don't you know, with one thing and another, and I had forgotten all about it. Let me see, how much was that to cost?"

"Five thousand dollars."

"Oh dear, I can't really afford to pay that much. Now, couldn't you," this very bewitchingly, "make a real nice monument for five hundred dollars? I know you can, and I will come and see you about it real soon; good-bye!"

Then the monument man went to his office and told his grief to a three-legged lamb and a stone angel.

Some time after this the charming widow, with a male friend whom she called "Charley," dropped in again.

Do you know," she said, "I feel so ashamed to think that I never came around to look at your pretty designs. Charley and I have concluded that those great costly ornaments are so foolish, after one's dead, you know. We think it's wicked don't we, Charley?" Charley al

lowed that it was.

"But," she continued, "those little boards, such as they put at the soldiers' graves, Charley and I think they are very nice. So neat and unpretentious. Couldn't you make one of them for me and put George's monogram on it? His initials make such a pretty monogram?"

Then the monument man's cup was full, and spilled over. He told her that Charley could get an old shingle and tack one of George's business cards on it.

Then she called him a "horrid beast" and Charley spoke of whipping him "for half a cent," and they sallied off.

THE DEAD SOLDIER-BOY.-Wм. MASON TURner.

A TALE OF THE CHRISTMAS-TIDE.

The cold gray moon of a winter's sky

Gleamed down from an old-time German town, And the low night breezes whispered by,

6.

As the stage coach paused by the Kaiser's Crown;" For I was a wanderer, far from home:

And the eve of the Christmas-tide had come.

But I paused as the old coach rolled away,
For there by the door I had seen a form,—
An old dame bent, with her long locks gray;
An old dame bent as by many a storm!
And as she swayed her to and fro,
She bent her head, and she murmured low:
"Ah! the night is cold, and the searching winds
Blow over the hills and upon the plains:
But no light gleams from the bannered blinds,
And the dark night wanes! it wanes! it wanes!"
And then as she sadly shook her head,

I drew to her side, and softly said:

"Ay! ay! good dame the night is cold;

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But what doth burden you on this eve?"
"Ha! stranger, and would you have it told?"
Ay, friend, to me your sorrows unweave.”
And then as the winds moaned o'er the wold,
I list to the tale the old dame told.

*A notel on the Rhine.