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The Heart to speak in vain essayed,
Nor could his purpose reach-
His will, nor voice, nor tongue obeyed,
His silence was his speech.

Mark thou their difference, child of earth!
While each performs his part,

Not all the Lip can speak is worth
The silence of the Heart.

John Quincy Adams.

WHERE DID YOU COME FROM, BABY. "WHERE did you come from, baby dear?" "Out of the everywhere into the here."

"Where did you get your eyes so blue?" "Out of the sky as I came through."

"What makes the light in them sparkle and spin ?" "Some of the starry spikes left in."

"Where did you get that little tear ?"
"I found it waiting when I got here."

"What makes your forehead so smooth and high ?” "A soft hand stroked it as I went by."

"What makes your cheek like a warm white rose ?" Something better than any one knows."


"Whence that three-cornered smile of bliss ?" "Three angels gave me at once a kiss.”

Where did you get that pearly ear ?"
"God spoke and it came out to hear."

Where did you get those arms and hands?" "Love made itself into hooks and bands."

Feet, whence did you come, you darling things?" "From the same body as the cherubs' wings."

"How did they all just come to be you?"
"God thought about me, and so I grew."

But how did you come to us, my dear ?" "God thought about you, and so I am here." George Macdonald,

HALF-A-DOZEN children
At our house!
Half-a-dozen children
Quiet as a mouse!
Quiet as a moonbeam-

You could hear a pin,-
Waiting for the party
To begin.

This is the poem of the air,
Slowly in silent syllables recorded;
This is the secret of despair,
Long in its cloudy bosom hoarded,
Now whispered and revealed
To wood and field.


ONE of the best things in the world to be is a boy; it requires no experience, though it needs some practice to be a good one. The disadvantage of the position is that he does not last long enough. It is soon over. Just as you get used to being a boy, you have to be something else, with a good deal more work to do and not half so much fun. And yet every boy is anxious to be a man, and is very uneasy with the restrictions that are put upon him as a boy. There are so many bright spots in the life of a farm boy that I sometimes think I should like to live the life over again. I should almost be willing to be a girl if it were not for the chores. There is a great comfort to a boy in the amount of work he can get rid of doing. It is sometimes astonishing how slow he can go on an errand. Perhaps he couldn't explain, himself, why, when he is sent to the neighbor's after yeast, he stops to stone the frogs. He is not exactly

cruel, but he wants to see if he can hit 'em. It is a curious fact about boys, that two will be a great deal slower in doing anything than one. Boys have a great power of helping each other do nothing. But say what you will about the general usefulness of boys, a farm without a boy would very soon come to grief. He is always in demand. In the first place, he is to do all the errands, go to the store, the post-office, and to carry all sorts of messages. He would like to have as many legs as a wheel has spokes, and rotate about in the same way. This he sometimes tries to do, and p» pe who have seen him turning cart-wheels 4.***** che side of the road have supposed in wa› amusing himself and idling his time. He was our 17 32 to invent a new mode of locomotion. so tha could economize his legs and ac ni errand vi greater dispatch. Leapfrog is one of nè melam of getting over the ground quick. He us a ural genius for combining pleasure will believe. Cuaries Iru ie Turne


ACROSS in my neighbor's window WIL A
ings of satin and ER.
I see, Death its fog rigel


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Such a flood of flounces-
Oh, dear me!

Such a surge of sashes—
Like a silken sea.
Little eyes demurely

Cast upon the ground,
Little airs and graces
All around.

High time for that party
To begin!

To sit so any longer
Were a sort of sin;
As if you weren't acquainted
With society.

What a thing to tell of
That would be!

Up spoke a little lady
Aged five:

"I've tumbled up my over-dress, Sure as I'm alive!

My dress came from Paris-
We sent to Worth for it;
Mother says she calls it

Such a fit!"

Quick there piped another
Little voice:

"I didn't send for dresses, Though I had my choice;

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