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the sight of a drowning man before him, and crying out, “O that I had been introduced to this gentleman, that I might save his life! ”


" The time draws near the birth of Christ;

The moon is bid, the night is still;

A single church below the hill
Is pealing, folded in the mist.
A single peal of bells below,

That wakens at this hour of rest
A single murmur in the breast,
That these are not the bells I know.

“Like strangers' voices, here they sound,

In lands where not a memory strays;

The landmark breathes of other days,
But all is new, unhallowed ground.”

“Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,

The flying cloud, the frosty light;

The year is dying in the night; Ring out, wild bells, and let him die. “ Ring out the old, ring in the new;

Ring, happy bells, across the snow;

The year is going, let him go;
Ring out the false, ring in the true.

“ Ring out the grief that saps the mind

For those that here we see no morei;

Ring out the feud of rich and poor;
Ring in redress for all mankind.
“Ring out a slowly dying cause,

And ancient forms of party strife;

Ring in the nobler modes of life,
With sweeter manners, purer laws.

" Ring out the want, the care, the sin,

The faithless coldness of the times ; Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes, But ring the fuller minstrel in,

“ Ring out false pride in place and blood,

The civic slander and the spite;
Ring in the love of truth arrd right;
Ring in the common love of good.
“Ring out old shapes of foul disease;

Ring out the narrowing lust of gold;

Ring out the thousand wars of old ; Ring in the thousand years of peace. “Ring in the valiant man and free,

The larger heart, the kindlier hand; Ring out the darkness of the land ; Ring in the Christ that is to be."


“ Three fishers went sailing away to the west,

Away to the west as the sun went down;
Each thought on the woman who loved him the best,
And the children stood watching them out of the town;

For men must work, and women must weep,
And there's little to earn, and many to keep,

Though the harbor-bar be moaning. " Three wives sat up in the light-house tower,

And they trimmed the lamps as the sun went down;
They looked at the squall, and they looked at the shower,
And the night-rack came rolling up ragged and brown.

But men must work, and women must weep,
Though storms be sudden and waters deep,

And the harbor-bar be moaning.

" Three corpses lay out on the shining sands,

In the morning gleam as the tide went down.
And the women are weeping and wringing their hands,
For those who will never come home to the town;

For men must work, and women must weep,
And the sooner it's over, the sooner to sleep;

And good-bye to the bar and its moaning."

TT is a straight, brawny, Saxon-eyed, Saxon-haired 1 six-footer, standing there at his mother's door, stamping the snow from his feet, and fastening his brown mare “Speed” to the tall, out-branching, snowladen apple-tree, planted by his father the day that he

was born. You can see the thrifty tree that it is, and you can see my hero and hear him singing, humming and whistling all in a breath, over and over again, the refrain from that sweet old love-song of the sea, “A sailor's wife, a sailor's star shall be.” The blood is coursing, fast and strong, through all the veins and arteries of my handsome youth, hanging out its banners of health in the fair white skin and red cheek, and in the perfect clearness of the eye as well-the blue eye which betokens wealth of mind, strength of purpose and the will to accomplish!

And so, I say, he looked young, to be sure, but with a mind and a will that man nor the devil could not, nor would not shake nor bend! Ah, but he was a brave and handsome fellow, believe, as he stood there, in the brilliant sunshine of that snow-covered country of New England's eastern shore. He had a big sorrow in his heart, sing as loud as he may, bright, fair and full of life as he certainly was--his first, great and terrible grief! Was not his darling father's ship wrecked, in sight of home, one year ago, and not one spared to ease the story to his mother's ear, or bring one message of adieu to worshiped wife and boy! That dreadful eastern shore in winter and spring that “gathers them in-yes, gathers them in!” God help the poor fishermen's wives and bairns !

“For men must work and women must weep,
Though storms be sudden, and waters deep

And the harbor-bar be moaning.”
The sailor's eyes and thoughts go far out and over

the ocean this morning, and he believes now, if his mother will but spare him for a few months, or a year or two at most, he will go one seeking voyage; and with him, in his mind, shall go the stories told him by his father, on watch, in nights at sea. Of the warm and beautiful islands in the middle Pacific, where he when young had touched for stores before going to the far North for whale. Of a land so rich in sunshine and shadow-of peace and perfect beauty-of palm, of pomegranate, of laden trees of richest golden fruit, mango, banana, guava, orange, tamarind, of flowering tree and shrub and bush, of clear white moonlight nights-a land where he could have wished to live and die, but for the dear girl of his heart, his “blueeyed Mary,” who was born and bred on the far-off eastern shore, and whose heart would cling, he feared, to her childhood's home. Ah, the cruel shore! What did it, in the end, bring to her but heart-wreck and death!

The world may all be wrong, but never shall that which we find within ourselves have power to charm! And so, my Saxon boy did not care for, could not love the old merchant's pretty, fair-haired Jeunnie — but must needs sue and beg and tease for Alice, poor, oneeyed sailor Jim's dark-eyed, merry-hearted little lassie!

Now, he would have his will and way (a will it was, determined and almost fierce) about that one voyage of discovery! And mother nor love must not thwart him there! He would make the venture in his own pretty clipper ship, and Alice must consent to be both

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