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And shouted but once more aloud,
While o'er him fast, through sail and shroud,
They wrapped the ship in splendor wild,
There came a burst of thunder sound;
With shroud and mast and pennon fair,
GRANDPAPA's spectacles cannot be found,
He has searched all the rooms, high and low, round and round;
Now he calls to the young ones, and what does he say?
"Ten cents" to the child who will find them to
'hen Harry and Nelly and Edward all ran, And a most thorough search for the glasses began. And dear little Nell in her generous way
Said, "I'll look for them, Grandpa, without any pay."
All through the big Bible she searched with care,
Then down on the floor, like good-natured bears,
But Nelly, who, leaning on Grandpapa's knee, Was thinking most earnestly, "where can they be?"
Looked suddenly up in the kind, faded eyes, And her own shining brown ones grew big with surprise.
She clapped with her hands, all her dimples came out,
She turned to the boys with a bright, roguish shout, "You may leave off your looking, both Harry and Ned,
For there are the glasses on Grandpapa's head !"
THE FLIGHT OF YOUTH.
THERE are gains for all our losses,
There are balms for all our pain;
We are stronger, and are better,
Under manhood's sterner reign;
And will never come again.
Something beautiful is vanished,
And we sigh for it in vain:
Richard H. Stoddard.
CHRISTMAS ON THE SAN GABR'EL.
LAMAR and his Rangers camped at dawn on the banks of the San Gabr❜el,
Under the mossy live oaks, in the heart of a lonely dell
With the cloudless Texas sky above and the musquite grass below,
And all the prairie lying still in a misty, silv'ry glow.
The sound of the horses cropping grass, the fall of a nut full ripe,
The stir of a weary soldier, or the tap of a smokedout pipe,
Fell only as sounds in a dream may fall upon a drowsy ear,
Till the captain said, "It is Christmas Day! so, boys, we will spend it here,
"For the sake of our homes and our childhood, we will give the day its dues."
Then some leaped up to prepare the feast, and some sat still to muse,
And some pulled scarlet yupon berries and waxwhite mistletoe,
To garland the stand-up rifles-for Christmas has no foe.
And every heart had a pleasant thought or a tender memory
Of unforgotten Christmastides that never more might be ;
They felt the thrill of a mother's kiss, they heard the happy psalm,
And the men grew still, and all the camp was full of a gracious calm.
Halt!" cried the sentinel, and lo! from out of the brushwood near
There came, with a weary, fainting step, a man in mortal fear,
A brutal man with a tiger's heart; but yet he made this plea
"I am dying of hunger and thirst; do what you will with me."
They knew him well-who did not know the cruel San Sabatan,
The robber of the Rio Grande, who spared not any man?
In low, fierce tones they called his name, and looked at a coil of rope;
And the man crouched down in abject fear-how could he dare to hope?
The captain had just been thinking of the Book his mother read,
Of a Saviour born on Christmas Day, who bowed on the Cross His head;
Blending the thought of his mother's tears with the Holy Mother's grief
And when he saw San Sabatan he thought of the dying thief.
He spoke to the men in whispers, and they heeded the words he said,
And brought to the perishing robber water and meat and bread.