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"They say he was seen in the dusk of the dawn, Just mounting the bank, at the edge of a thicket, Through which he came galloping recklessly on,

Not heeding or hearing the 'halt' of the picket."

"To the front with him!" ordered the colonel. Just then

Rode hurriedly forward a scout, with a letter. "We made a mistake, sir-I-I and the men,— No room nor no reason to know any better."

"Aha!" and the officer eagerly read.

"The gallant young fellow! How well that you brought him

So quick with his warning!" The scout dropped his head:

"A spy, sir,-I thought him a spy,—and I shot him!"

Margaret J. Preston.

THE CATHOLIC PSALM

BORDERED by bluff and by meadow, reflecting a golden day,

Placid and calmly deceitful, the lovely Lake Michigan lay,

The sun had gone down in glory, and naught save one tiny band

Of cloud on the distant horizon, shaped like a ghostly hand,

Gave the crew on our good ship a warning. The skipper was pacing the deck, When he suddenly stopped near the helmsman, and anxiously scanned the cloud-speckAnd e'en as he gazed, he shuddered-then quick shouted, "Make all secure!

For your lives, every man to the sail-ropes, and see that all's furled safe and sure!"

The moments were counted by heart-beats, so quickly the storm-fiend drew near;

Where a minute ago was clear blue sky now stretched heavy cloud dark and drear.

Each man watched the face of the skipper, each one tied a rope round his waist

And fastened himself to some stout beam, or fast to his neighbor was laced,

And thus, breathless, waited the storm-burstwhen, sweet through that horrible calm,

There came to the ears of the sailors the sound of a Catholic psalm!

Ave sanctissima, we lift our souls to thee.

A maid in the cabin was singing as the storm came on over the deep

Ora pro nobis, 'tis nightfall on the sea.

And serene in the gathering darkness was lulling a baby to sleep:

Ora pro nobis, the wave doth rock our sleep. Through the singing the storm-fiend seemed waiting and gathering strength for the blow. Ora, mater, ora, Star of the deep. Of a sudden, up started the helmsman, as the words of the psalm died below

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"I believe, mates, that singing will save us! For I've often and often heard say

That if, in the midst of a tempest, there be but a maid near to pray

To Mary, the Mother of Sorrows, and she pray with a babe on her knee,

The danger will sure be abated-run, Jemmy, you're nearest, and see

If she's holding the babe to her bosom? If so, we are saved from our grave;

With the Star of the sea for our succor, we need fear neither storm-fiend nor wave.

Down on your knees for your lives, men! Sing, girl, sing the Catholic psalm"-—

Thou that hast looked on death, aid us when death

is near,

Whisper of heaven to faith, sweet mother, sweet mother, hear

Ora pro nobis, the wave must rock our sleep. Loud the storm-fiend was shrieking in fury, but the Catholic psalm still rang on

Ora, mater, ora, Star of the deep. Till at last the wild demon was vanquished, and the terrible peril was gone.

Then, drifting without helm or rudder, drifting without spar or mast,

Drifting and drifting ever, the ship through the dreary night passed;

But we saw, when the on-coming morning had driven the night-fog away,

And the rays of the golden sun rising foretold a bright beautiful day,

That she'd drifted safe into harbor, and there, while no anchor bound,

Nor ever a cable held her, she rode gently on, safe and sound.

With one impulse we thought of the maiden, and hastened to bring her ashore;

We all hurried down to the cabin, but paused as we entered the door,

For sitting there facing the gang-way, with one hand pressed close to her side,

And the baby asleep on her bosom, the saintly singer had died.

Her lips were still partly open, her last glance was upward cast

She had sung until she, like the sailors, safe into harbor had passed.

Ora pro nobis, the wave must rock our sleep,
Ora, mater, ora, Star of the deep.

Elizabeth Ingram Hubbard (Adapted).

INDEPENDENCE BELL-JULY 4, 1776.

When the Declaration of Independence was adopted by Congress, the event was announced by ringing the old State-House bell, which bore the inscription "Proclaim liberty throughout the land, to all the inhabitants thereof!" The old bellman stationed his little grandson at the door of the hall, to await the instructions of the door-keeper when to ring. At the word, the young patriot rushed out, and clapping his hands, shouted :-"Ring! RING! RING!"

THERE was a tumult in the city,

In the quaint old Quaker town,
And the streets were rife with people
Pacing restless up and down-
People gathering at the corners,

Where they whispered each to each,
And the sweat stood on their temples
With the earnestness of speech.
As the bleak Atlantic currents

Lash the wild Newfoundland shore,
So they beat against the State House,
So they surged against the door;
And the mingling of their voices
Made a harmony profound,
Till the quiet street of Chestnut
Was all turbulent with sound.
"Will they do it?"

"Who is speaking?" "What of Adams ?"

"Dare they do it ?"

"What's the news ?" "What of Sherman ?"

"Oh, God grant they won't refuse !"

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