were felt by himself to be humble imitations

of a greater master. For once in his life, PEACHBLOSSOM AND LADYSLIPPER:

WITH OTHER FAIRY TALES OF TRAVEL.

M. dragged his subject heavily along-the matter began to grow serious-fun failed to come when M. called it up, M. closed between a lame argument—a timid depre- DEDICATED BY EXPRESS PERMISSION TO— AND

cation, and some only tolerable humor. He was followed by E., in a discursive, argumentative, sarcastic, drag-net sort of speech,

TOLD BY THE WIND.

I.

PEACHBLOSSOM.

Peachblossom was a fine little fellow-the which did all that could be done for the de- Wind commenced-who lived in a beautiful fence. The solicitor briefly closed-serious-valley far beyond the Blue Mountains in the ly and confidently confining himself to a reVirgin Land, where it always seemed to be petition of the matters first insisted, and an- Spring, and where his namesakes, the blosswering some of the points of the counsel. soms on the peach trees, were accustomed to It was an ominous fact that a juror, before make their appearance three or four times a the jury retired under leave of the court, reyear-even when the ripe, red fruit was melcalled a witness for the purpose of putting a low, or the boughs bare in Autumn. question to him-the question was, how One day it was a warm, nice day in much the defendants were worth; the answer Spring-Peachblossom put his long, curling was about $2,000. hair behind his ears, and rambled out into The jury shortly after returned into court the fields-then deep into the woods; listenwith a verdict which "sized their pile."

SONNETS.

By PAUL H. HAYNE.

LIFE AND DEATH.

LIFE.

Suffering! and yet magnificent in pain!
Mysterious! yet, like Spring-showers in the sun,
Veiling the light with their melodious rain,

LIFE, from the world beyond hath radiance won:
Its gloomiest phase is as the clouds that mourn
'Neath the majestic brightness of the Arch,
Where nobler orbs in deathless daylight burn,
And God's great pulses beat their music march.
The Heaven we worship dimly girt with tears,
The spirit-heaven, what is it but a Life,
Lifting its soul beyond our mortal years
That oft begin, and ever end with strife;
Strife we must pass to win a happier height,
NATURE but travails to reveal us-light.

DEATH.

Then whence, oh! Death! thy dreariness? we know
That every flower, the breezes' flattering breath
Woos to a blush, and love-like murmuring low,
Dies but to multiply its bloom in death:
The rill's glad, prattling infancy, that fills
The woodlands with its song of innocent glee,
Is passing through the heart of shadowy hills,
To swell the eternal manhood of the sea:
And the great stars, Creation's minstrel-fires,
Are rolling toward the central source of light,
Where all their separate glory but expires
To merge into one world's unbroken night;
There is no death but change, soul claspeth soul,
And all are portion of the immortal whole.

ing to the lark singing in the blue sky, and the little birds chirping in the tender-leafed trees. He felt very happy, for Peachblossom was pure and good.

One thing, however, made him sad: that morning Ladyslipper-the little girl he was devotedly in love with-had said to him, crying, "Oh, Peachblossom, I'm so afraid when we grow up we won't be good and love each other! And this made Peachblossom sad. Could it be? he thought: and so thinking, he lay down on a nice, green, grassy bank.

Suddenly, a beautiful lady appeared at his side, mounted on a milk-white horse, and her curling hair was bound with a jewelled band: she was wondrous fair, and said to the child:

"Come, Peachblossom, go with me. I will keep you pure, my little one, through all the years."

"Go where?" he asked.
"To Fairy Land!"

Oh, yes," he said:

And mounting behind the beautiful lady, they set off like the wind: the bridle bells, all gold, tinkled and jingled as they fled.

"Listen," the beautiful lady said, "each of these bell-chimes is a passing day!"

II.

LADYSLIPPER.

Ladyslipper loved her little Peachblossom so dearly, that when the news came that he

had been lost, and could no where be found, they heard at times there, fairy bells, and that she cried and sobbed, and bemoaned his death the sound was joyful: full of hopefulness, so much, that they were fearful of her death, of brighter things than even Fairy Land!

too.

--

III.

BLIND MAN'S BUFF.

"What did they go and hurt him for," said Ladyslipper, crying, "they knew I couldn't be happy without him: the wicked people!" A party of the very merriest boys and girls And thus did Ladyslipper, for the first were gathered in a large room, just when the time, doubt the power and the justice of Fall began to give up to Winter: and there Providence. She was walking, thus think- was a large, warm fire burning. They took ing, one beautiful morning, when suddenly away the centre table, and set back the cast the lady on the milk-white horse, with the of the Fisher Boy, and then after a great hair bound with the jewelled band, stood by

her side also.

"Come go with me, Ladyslipper," she said," "I will keep you pure, my little one, through all the years."

"Go where?" she said.

"To Fairy Land, where Peachblossom lives with me."

"Oh, yes," cried Ladyslipper; and so the beautiful lady took her in her arms, and laid her little head upon her breast, and then set off like wind: the bridle bells, all gold, tinkled and jingled as they fled.

"Listen," said the lady," each of these bell-chimes is a passing day!

deal of laughing, they commenced playing blind man's buff. (But first I must tell you that little Charley was put in the corner by the fire, with orders not to stir, or he would

be run over.

There sat little Charley sucking his thumb: good little Charley!)

They laughed more than ever when the handkerchief was tied tightly round the lighthaired boy's head: and then the fun commenced in good earnest; and the girls scampered, and the Blind Man chased them. (All the while little Charley sucked his thumb sitting in the corner.)

There was a great dodging, and stooping down, and pushing, and running: and when any body was caught, her face must be felt, and her hair, and her bracelets. ("Oh, how bad! to rub his ugly hands on sister's face!" said little Charley, who was sitting sucking

Long wept the parents of the little ones: they thought it hard that their bright flowers should thus be torn from them by Providence but they were resigned. Thus seven years passed, and then when grief was al- his thumb in the corner.) most gone, and hope was dead-late one The chasing began to get merrier than evening Peachblossom and Ladyslipper came ever, and the room fairly shook. Fanny ran home. There was a soft, bright light in harder than all, and seemed to get into more their eyes, and they smiled joyfully at see-"hard places," and some times she nearly ing again the old homestead. Thousands of ran over little Charley; (who was sitting in questions were asked them, but they could the corner sucking his thunb.) give no answer: and at last they were left in peace.

Fanny ran, and dodged, and her dark curls rippled about her white forehead, and she seemed to do much more to keep herself from being caught, than any.

"I tell you what! he can see, and he knows when it's Cousin Fanny!" said Charleylittle Charley :-(who, as I told you once be

Soon they were married-for now Peachblossom was a young man, with cheeks already shaded by a beard, and Ladyslipper was as nice a young lady as heart could desire. And so they settled down, and lived long and happily, a pure true life, and died fore, was sitting sucking his thumb in the within a month of each other, and were bu-corner.)

ried side by side.

A peach tree sprang from the head of the mound, and beside it a ladyslipper, tall and graceful, grew, twining its leaves and blooms with the peach-blossoms. And people said

IV.

LITTLE PAULINE.

As the evening closed in, the busy mer

chant came home and called for his little itself over his white, tender, delicate face, Pauline. So they brought her out of the chamber, and she ran forward and climbed up on his knees. The little thing maybe wanted to put her fingers in his waistcoat pockets for some good things!

The Spring days were come, and the vio"What are you thinking about, Pauline?" lets began to look out from the grass, and asked the merchant.

The morning sun was shining on the bright, beautiful earth, and the little snow I saw two children wandering in the woods, left in the hollows of the hills began to sneak the beautiful woods of the Fall. They were away toward the wooded valley. The sun a boy and a girl, very young-they were was so bright that it fairly made you laugh, brother and sister. The red sunset poured because the clouds, and the birds, and all

"He's an old man with a white beard; and a short, black pipe, is always in his mouth: and he always goes along laughing, and twinkling his eyes, and jingling his toy bag:you know, Mary, he brings the things in that."

seemed laughing. The little girl was walk- |Saint Nic like?" asked little Mary, with ing along in the wood-path, looking for vio- her round eyes. lets, and talking with another little girl. Her cheeks were thinner, and not so red; she did not take pleasure in the grass and flowers as she once did. Her companion was telling her a story, which seemed to interest her, and when the sun came out particularly clear and bright, she would smile, and even laugh -with that and the story together; and then she looked very pretty and cheerful, but not as cheerful as she did on the Autumn evening last year, when she was walking there with her brother.

"Oh!" said the little girl, her companion, "I see such a lovely bed of violets: come, this way!" she cried, taking her by

the hand.

"Does he ride in a sleigh!"

"Yes: and the reindeers draw it-all covered with little jingling bells." "Oh! how nice :-but Uncle, don't he get his feet in the snow?”

"No: he jumps from his sleigh right into the chimney."

"Old Saint Nic?" asked Mary.

"Yes, my daughter."

"Then Uncle there is a new Saint Nic."
"Why?"

"And he gets his feet in the snow!
"How is that?"

"I mean our Saint Nic has walked in the snow: for I saw his footmarks in the tree room. And they are for all the world like

They ran toward the bank on which the violets grew, and a flock of snow-birds flew up, and went off chirping: "chirrup!" "chirrup!" they said. The place where the violets grew, was round and grassy, and a small white stone nestled under a cedar bush. The little girl who had wandered with her yours, Uncle Oran," said Mary, laughing. brother on the Autumn evening last year, "Bless my heart!" said Uncle Oran, rubleaned her head down in the dry, rustling bing his spectacles, "was ever such a sinleaves, and began to cry. gular child!"

The glorious Christmas morning had come; the struggling clouds at times let the pale and every body was gathered in the break- cold moon shine a little,) when a poor youth fast room, shivering, and laughing, and ma- sat in his freezing room thinking, thinking, king believe to play castanets with their teeth. thinking. The fire blazed, and roared, and laughedthe ridiculous fire :—for everybody knows the fire couldn't expect to get any presents from the Christmas tree in the other room. "Mamma," said little Mary, (she was dressed in her blue frock made last week,) "did old Saint Nic come last night?"

In the fireplace a few sparks only were chasing each other about, as in a paper cinder; and in the dim light of a solitary candle the bronze figures on the high mantelpiece, and the bunch of fading autumn flowers, and the withered, dried-up bunch, whispering of other years, upon his book-case, (kept so carefully,) were only half visible. He sat there thinking in the cold winter night, the poor poet: and besure his thoughts were not of things around him ;-but of other, happier times, full of the splendor which then Oh, yes; and this morning I had a peep. was wrapped about all things. The snow Oh, it's so nice. But uncle Oran, what is fell faster-the bleak wind blew colder and

"Why, certainly," said Uncle Oran, taking off his spectacles, "don't you know, Mary, that the Christmas tree in the other room was fixed for him-to hang the presents on?"

X.

THE LITTLE BEGGAR GIRL.

the fire went out entirely. Still he sat dreaming, the poor poet-dreaming there in the cold winter night, not thinking of the wind. On the table lay a little curl of hair, and this it was which made his temples throb and The rich merchant came into his counting brought the passionate sad sobs up from his house, in the great city, and, taking off his heart. Then he took out some letters, over thick, velvet-collared overcoat, covered with which ran like thin sunset-flooded clouds snow, his India-rubber shoes, and warm comacross the evening sky, bright worded lines. forter half a mile long, sat down before the She was dead! She was gone! He was blazing coal fire with the morning paper in alone! Oh! dreadful word-there in the his hand. His attention was first called to chilly night; his hope-fire dead; his great the "Stocks," and then the "Price Curheart cold: poor poet!

rent," which told him how much he could get for his flour, and tobacco, and all sorts of things. It was very comfortable to sit there and read that every thing was selling highcoals, and flour, and all,-owing to the severity of the winter. Stocks too had gone up, and as the snow put out all fires, the money invested in the "Fire Insurance Company"

He pressed the letters and the curl to his pale lips and shivered: but it was not from the cold. He murmured a name which died away in the dim old chamber: a sorrowful sob drowned the shrill wind; and two large tears rolled down his cheeks and fell upon the letters and the curl. Poor poet! there in the cold winter night, was bringing him a fine dividend. dreaming of other days!

IX.

THE CHRISTMAS TURKEY.

Everybody was sitting round the table at the Christmas dinner; and it was the most delightful thing in the world to hear the roaring logs in the fireplace, and the pattering snow against the windows, and to see the long table-which was so long that even little Tommy had his own proper seat among the

rest.

Little Tommy was hungry, and he said so:-he said his mother always made him

tell the truth; as if his mother had told him to say every thing that was true, and because thing was true always say it!

"But I don't want any turkey," said Tommy: "I wouldn't eat him."

Just as he had got through with this column, and was going on to the Presidential returns, (for all the States were not yet heard from,) the door opened, and a little beggar girl came in, timidly. She was dressed in a short red frock; her neck was bare; an old blue wadded bonnet was on her head, and her feet looked very red through the holes in her stockings.

sir," said the little beggar girl.
"Please sir would you gi' me somethin',

The rich merchant turned round, and looked at her; but not angrily coolly.

For what, little girl?" he said. "Mother and me is cold, sir-we liked to freezed last night: and we aint had no bread, sir, since yesterday morning."

The rich merchant looked somewhat annoyed.

"Always the same tale," he muttered; "when will these unfortunate individuals learn to tell the truth." Then turning round

Come, tell us why, Tommy," said his he said to the litle girl: mother: isn't it good, my child?"

Tommy sighed.

"I am sorry to find you begging so early, little one. You have evidently learned already to whine, and talk about 'freezing' and 'bread.' Now it is out of the question to say you really want something to eat, and to So you see, warm you, with the admirably regulated sys

"Oh yes, mamma," he replied, "but I remember when he was running about and gobbling, he said to me, "Don't eat me! don't eat me! don't eat me!"

mamma, I couldn't." And Tommy began tem of charities here in force :-to which

to cry.

charities," added the merchant smoothing his large fat chin, "I am a liberal subscriber.