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Whispered round the sultry wigwam;
With a sound of sleep the water
Rippled on the beach below it;

From the cornfields shrill and ceaseless
Sang the grasshopper, Paupukkeena;
And the guests of Hiawatha,
Weary with the heat of Summer,
Slumbered in the sultry wigwam.

Slowly o'er the simmering landscape
Fell the evening's dusk and coolness,
And the long and level sunbeams
Shot their spears into the forest,
Breaking through its shields of shadow,
Rushed into each secret ambush,
Searched each thicket, dingle, hollow;
Still the guests of Hiawatha
Slumbered in the silent wigwam.

From his place rose Hiawatha,

Bade farewell to old Nokomis,

Spake in whispers, spake in this wise,
Did not wake the guests that slumbered:.

"I am going, O Nokomis,

On a long and distant journey
To the portals of the Sunset,
To the regions of the home-wind,
Of the northwest wind Keewaydin.
But these guests I leave behind me,
In your watch and ward I leave them;
See that never harm comes near them,
See that never fear molests them;

Never danger or suspicion,
Never want of food or shelter,

In the lodge of Hiawatha."

Forth into the village went he,
Bade farewell to all the warriors,
Bade farewell to all the young men ;
Spake persuading, spake in this wise:
"I am going, O my people,

On a long and distant journey.
Many moons and many winters

Will have come and will have vanished
Ere I come again to see you.
But my guests I leave behind me;
Listen to their words of wisdom,
Listen to the truth they tell you;

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For the Master of Life has sent them
From the land of light and morning."
On the shore stood Hiawatha,
Turned and waved his hand at parting;
On the clear and luminous water
Launched his birch canoe for sailing;
From the pebbles of the margin
Shoved it forth into the water;

Whispered to it, "Westward! Westward!"
And with speed it darted forward.

And the evening sun descending
Set the clouds on fire with redness;
Burned the broad sky, like a prairie,
Left upon the level water

One long track and trail of splendor,
Down whose stream, as down a river,
Westward, westward, Hiawatha
Sailed into the fiery sunset,
Sailed into the purple vapors,
Sailed into the dusk of evening.
And the people from the margin
Watched him floating, rising, sinking,
Till the birch canoe seemed lifted
High into that sea of splendor,
Till it sank into the vapors,
Like the new moon, slowly, slowly,
Sinking in the purple distance.

And they said, "Farewell forever!"

Said, "Farewell, O Hiawatha!"

And the forests dark and lonely,

Moved through all their depths of darkness,
Sighed, "Farewell, O Hiawatha!"

And the heron, the Shuhshuhgah,

From her haunts among the fenlands,
Screamed, "Farewell, O Hiawatha!"

Thus departed Hiawatha,

Hiawatha, the beloved,
In the glory of the sunset,

In the purple mists of evening,
To the regions of the home-wind,
Of the northwest wind. Keewaydin,
To the Islands of the Blessèd,
To the Kingdom of Ponemah,
To the land of the Hereafter.

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PIERRE LOTI.

PIERRE LOTI, pseudonym of LOUIS MARIE JULIEN VIAUD, & French novelist; (retained by him from an early nickname, given him for his modesty, and referring to a flower of Polynesia that hides itself); born at Rochefort, Jan. 14, 1850. He was educated in the naval school at Brest, 1867; became lieutenant in 1881, and made many voyages in Oceanica and to Japan, Senegal, etc. Participating in the French war against Anam (south of China) in 1883, his letters to Figaro led to his suspension from active service; he painted "too black" the conduct of the French soldiers in taking the forts of Hué. "From Lands of Exile" appeared in 1887. His other works are "Aziyadé" (1879); "Rarahu, a Polynesian Idyl" (1880), (reprinted under the title of "Marriage of Loti"); "The Romance of a Spahi" (Algerian soldier), (1881); "Flowers of Ennui," "Pasquala Ivanovitch," in which is included "Sueleima" (1882); "My Brother Yves" (1883); "The Three Women of Kasbah " (1884); "The Iceland Fisherman" (1886); "Madame Chrysanthème" (1887); "Japonneries d'Automne" (1889); "Au Maroc " (1890); "Le Roman d'un Enfant," an autobiography (1890); "Le Livre de la Pitié et de la Mort " (1891); "Fantôme d'Orient," a sequel to "Aziyadé" (1892); "Matelot " (1893). Of the above works, "From Lands of Exile," "Rarahu," "The Iceland Fisherman," and "Madame Chrysanthème," have been published in English.

LOTI MEETS THE SULTAN OF MOROCCO.

(From "Into Morocco.")

THIS morning we are to be presented to the Sultan, one day of our quarantine having been graciously remitted to us. At half past eight we all assembled in full uniform in the Moorish courtyard of the house occupied by the minister and his suite. Then comes the Caid Introducer of Ambassadors, a gigantic bull-necked mulatto carrying an enormous staff of some cheap metal. (To perform the duties of this office one of the largest men of the empire is always selected.) Four persons in long

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