"It was in the depth of winter,
Bitter was the night, and wild;
And outside the flaring gin-shop
Stood my starving wife and child.
"Out I went, and clutched my baby,
Saw its feet so cold and blue;
Fathers, if the small shoes smote me,
What did those poor bare feet do?
"Quick I thrust them in my bosom;
Oh! they were so icy chill!
And their coldness, like a dagger,
Pierced me,-I can feel it still.

"Of money I had but a trifle,
Just enough to serve my stead;
It bought shoes for little baby
And a single loaf of bread.

"That loaf served us all the Sunday,
And I went to work next day.
Since that time I've been teetotal-
That is all I've got to say."

HEROES.-FRANCIS A. SILAW.

Our world has battle-fields where truth and right Find heroes nobler, greater in God's sight,

Than they who fall foremost in gory fight.

Great hours bring forth great souls, but bugle call
Summons a host poor, impotent, and small,
To that God sends forth in his cause to fall.

Beyond the smoke of battle lies the prize,
The meed of strife and toil and sacrifice;
Few gain it here, but many in the skies.

The man who braves the world's neglect and scorn,
To lift the lowly, succor the forlorn,

Who conquers self,-he is a hero born.

His name may die, forgotten by his peers,

But yet the seed he sowed in care and tears

Shall bear rich harvests through immortal years,

THE TELEGRAPHIC SIGNAL.

CHARLES BARNARD.

(ABRIDGED AND ADAPTED FOR PUBLIC READING.)

JOHN MILLS, the hero of this sketch, was a railroad engineer, and had been for a long time in the company's employ. When the new engine "59" was completed and placed on the road John was given charge of it, and he evinced a natural pride in his preferment. At one of the stations there was a young girl, a telegraph operator, between whom and the engineer there had sprung up a mutual attachment, and whenever "59" came along, Kate generally managed to be at the door and exchange signals with her lover. One day the train was detained at the station, and the locomotive detached and sent up the road, to do some additional work, and Kate went along for a ride. As she listened to the sharp, shrill notes of the whistle, it occurred to her that she might teach John to sound her name in the Morse telegraphic characters, so that she could distinguish his signal from that of the other engines, whenever his train approached. The plan worked to a charm, and far and near the whistle shrieked K-a-t-e, until one day, as the operator stepped upon the platform, she overheard a conversation between two young men, and learned that they understood the signal and were laughingly wondering who Kate could be. Their means of communication having been discovered they were obliged to discontinue it. In the meantime, Kate had, by means of the telegraph, made the acquaintance of a young lady, an operator in a distant city, but whom she had never seen, and to her she made known the fact that the secret had been discovered. Then her friend suggested a plan as brilliant as it was ingenious. It was simply to arrange a means of telegraphic communication between the approaching train and the station, so as to ring a bell hidden away in the closet in Kate's office, engine "59" being the only one provided with the means of completing the circuit, which was done by laying the poker upon the tender-brake so as to touch the wire in passing. Kate found an opportunity to acquaint John with the proposed plan, and in the meantime had found an abandoned wire which ran for a long distan e close by the track, and which she proposed to use for carrying out her purpose. Thanksgiving day came soon after, and John fortunately having a boliday, he and Kate went bravely to work and before the day had ended, the task was completed, and proved a complete success. The dramatic finale of their love episode is told in the following sketch.

It was very singular how absent-minded and inattentive the operator was on the day that the great scientific enterprise was finished. No wonder she was disturbed. Would the new line work? Would her little battery be strong enough for such a great circuit? Would John be able to close it? The people began to assemble for the train. The clock pointed to the hour for its arrival.

Suddenly, with startling distinctness, the bell rang clear and loud in the echoing room. With a cry of delight she put on her dainty hat and ran in haste out upon the platform. The whistle broke loud and clear on the cool,

crisp air, and 59 appeared round the curve in the woods. The splendid monster slid swiftly up to her feet and paused. "Perfect, John! Perfect! It works to a charm.” With a spring she reached the cab and sat down on the fireman's seat.

"Blessed if I could tell what he was going to do," said the fireman. "He told me about it. Awful bright idea! You see, he laid the poker on the tender brake there, and it hit the tree slam, and I saw the wires touch. It was just prime!"

But the happy moments sped, and 59 groaned and slowly departed, while Kate stood on the platform, her face wreathed in smiles and white steam.

So the lovers met each day, and none knew how she was made aware of his approach with such absolute certainty. Science applied to love, or rather love applied to science, can move the world.

Two whole weeks passed, and then there suddenly arrived at the station, late one evening, a special with the director's car attached. The honorable directors were hungry-they always are-and would pause on their journey and take a cup of tea and a bit of supper. The honorables and their wives and children filled the station, and the place put on quite a gala aspect. As for Kate, she demurely sat in her den, book in hand, and over its unread pages admired the gay party in the brightly lighted waiting-room.

Suddenly, with furious rattle her electric bell sprang into noisy life. Every spark of color left her face, and her book fell with a dusty slam to the floor. What was it? What did it mean? Who rang it? With affright d face she burst from her office and brushed through the astonished people and out upon the snow-covered platform. There stood the directors' train upon the track of the on-coming engine.

The conductor! Where is he? Oh, sir! Start! Start! Get to the siding! The express! The express is coming!"

With a cry she snatched a lantern from a brakeman's hand, and in a flash was gone. They saw her light pitching and dancing through the darkness, and they were lost in wonder and amazement. The girl is crazy? No train is due now! There can be no danger. She must be

Ah! that horrible whistle. Such a wild shriek on a winter's night! The men sprang to the train, and the women and children fled in frantic terror in every direction. "Run for your lives," screamed the conductor. "There's a smash-up coming!"

A short, sharp scream from the whistle. The headlight gleamed on the snow-covered track, and there was a mad rush of sliding wheels and the gigantic engine roared like a demon. The great 59 slowly drew near and stopped in the woods. A hundred heads looked out, and a stalwart figure leaped down from the engine and ran on into the bright glow of the head-light.

"Kate!"

"Oh! John, I—”

She fell into his arms senseless and white, and the lantern dropped from her nerveless hand.

They took her up tenderly and bore her into the stationhouse and laid her upon the sofa in the "ladies' room." With hushed voices they gathered round to offer aid and comfort. Who was she? How did she save the train? How did she know of its approach?

"She is my daughter," said the old station-master. "She tends the telegraph."

The President of the Railroad, in his gold-bowed spectacles, drew near. One grand lady in silk and satin pillowed Kate's head on her breast. They all gathered near to see if she revived. She opened her eyes and gazed about dreamily, as if in search of something.

“Do you wish anything, my dear?" said the President, taking her hand.

"Some water, if you please, sir; and I want-I want-" They handed her some wine in a silver goblet.

She

sipped a little, and then looked among the strange faces as if in search of some one.

"Are

you looking for any one, Miss?"

"Yes-no-it is no matter. Thank you, ma'am, I feel better. I sprained my foot on the sleepers when I ran down the track. It is not severe, and I'll sit up."

They were greatly pleased to see her recover, and a quiet buzz of conversation filled the room. How did she know it? How could she tell the special was chasing us? Good heavens! if she had not known it, what an awful loss of life there would have been; it was very careless in the superintendent to follow our train in such a reckless manner.

"You feel better, my dear," said the President.

"Yes, sir, thank you. I'm sure I'm thankful. I knew John-I mean the engine was coming."

"You cannot be more grateful than we are to you for averting such a disastrous collision."

"I'm sure, I am pleased, sir. I never thought the telegraph

She paused abruptly.

What telegraph?"

"I'd rather not tell, sir."

"But you will tell us how you knew the engine was coming?"

Must you know?"

"We ought to know in order to reward you properly."

She put up her hand in a gesture of refusal, and was silent. The President and directors consulted together, and two of them came to her and briefly said they would be glad to know how she had been made aware of the approaching danger.

"Well, sir, if John is willing, I will tell you all."

John Mills, the engineer, was called, and he came in, cap in hand, and the entire company gathered round in the greatest eagerness.

Without the slightest affectation, she put her hand on John's grimy arm, and said: