A BATTLE PICTURE

BY J. M. FLETCHER.

THE smoke of battle roll'd away,
The victory was glorious;
Around the dead and dying lay
Of vanquish'd and victorious.

And many a lip had ashen grown,

Which rang the shout imperious, And dim full many an eye that shone Defiant and delirious.

The moon uprose with silver light,
And silence, overpowering,
Behind the clouds that curtained night
With fringes dark and lowering.

And fainting in death's chill embrace,
With soldier-like endurance,

One after one sank down apace
In kindly hope's assurance.

But one who saw the sun uprise,
And met the foeman daringly,

Now turned above his eager eyes
On one lone star despairingly-

Which o'er his home, remaining true, Begemm'd the night-sky cheeringly, Recalling one bright vision to

His dying thoughts endearingly.

And slowly as the waning flame

Of life hung low and trembling,

He breath'd that dear remember'd name In accents undissembling.

And while it woke the zephyr's sigh,
In gently swells harmonious,
That form itself was standing by

With sobbing heart symphonious.

And there in hope's long last eclipse,
With eyes upraised imploringly,
She sank where late those dying lips

Her own name breath'd adoringly.

ELSIE GRAY-THE WANDERING CHILD.

BY GEORGE CANNING HILL.

CHAPTER I.

A LOWERING sky, and the muttering of very distant thunder, rolling in their continued reverberations on the surprised ear, betokened the near approach of a storm.

It was at the sunset hour of a day in spring, and a man, somewhat roughly clad, was pacing thoughtfully before an humble cabin, situated not far from the beach in one of the desolate looking places on the coast of New England, while ever and anon he lifted his eyes to the horizon from the ground, and anxiously scanned the hurried marshalling of the clouds. Save the indistinct growlings of the thunder, no sound was audible. Occasionally, however, a slight gust of wind, already laden with abundant prognostications of the storm that was coming on, dashed itself full in the face of the solitary man, when he would draw his rough coat-sleeve across the same, and without a word wipe away the damp that had been deposited there.

Presently the huge, black heads and crests of the clouds began to crowd themselves upwards from the horizon, and, driven on by the rising wind, wheel and marshal themselves, as if in the array of battle, across the whole of the western sky. Then they began to come upward and onward, each moment gathering increased force and blackness, until the threatening van had rested themselves at the zenith. Here for a brief moment they halted, and the thundering legions in the distant rear began to come up to the contest which the whole body of ærial assailants was about to wage.

"It rains!" exclaimed the solitary individual, pausing to wipe the few big drops from his face that had begun to exude from the pressure of the gathering clouds.

Just at that moment, a heavy burst of thunder startled him from the dreamy repose into which his mind was sinking, and he cast his eyes comprehensively over the whole sky, as if to divine

at a single steady look the character of the weather that should prevail for the night.

"There'll be a bad night for somebody, to-night," said he, continuing his moderate pacing, and moving nearer toward his house. "I never yet see them black heads comin' that way, and comin' so thick and fast, too, without thinkin' of the poor fellers on the water. But yet, I hope every thing 'll happen right for 'em ; for a braver, truer set o' men than sailors be, ain't no where to be found, whether on the land or the water;" and with these words of unaffected sympathy on his lips, he suddenly placed his hand on the latch of the rude door to his homely cabin and entered.

"A storm, Sarah," said he, addressing a middle-aged looking person, who sat by the corner of the fire-place, leisurely engaged in blowing out the blue-and-white wreaths of tobacco smoke from her mouth, and watching the truly fantastic groupings which they made above her head.

"I thort I heerd thunder," replied she, clapping her pipe back into her mouth, and clutching it tightly between her teeth as she spoke.

"Yes, and it rains, too."

"Does it, really? Is the wind comin' up?"

"The wind's full o' rain, a'ready," answered he: "I come in because I could'nt well see nothin' out door, and the big drops begin to fall a leetle too thick. I should'nt wonder if we had a tedious night on't, Sarah."

"God save the sailors, then !" ejaculated she, with evident fervor and sincerity.

"Yes, and all that's off the coast to-night!" repeated he, with an increased warmth of expression.

The room in which sat this very worthy couple, was exceedingly low and confined; in truth, it would better have answered to the description of a cabin, than any other building with which we are familiar. The fire-place was high, and broad, and deep; even from down the throat of the capacious chimney came, when the sun shone, the golden sheen from his unclouded disc; thus admitting light, while it likewise answered a purpose more immediately useful in carrying away the smoke from their fire.

In the centre of the room stood an old-fashioned table, whose surface already exhibited numerous evidences of having performed

service for more than one generation, while not far from its edge stood a slim, tall hour-glass, whose browned sands were but slowly melting from the one of its chronicling compartments into the other. A couple of time-stained, weather-worn tarpaulins hung over the mantle, ready at any moment to do the service of him who had used them already so often.

There was a comfortable looking, and really quite inviting bed in the farther corner, at whose head was placed a small stand, whereon lay the family bible. This was all that one would have wished to see in that humble house-all that needed to have been seen, to assure the beholder that they whose roof-tree that was, were believers in the power and mercy of a Providence whom no human councils can turn or delay.

"It comes sudden !" exclaimed David-for such was his name -as a fearfully wild gust sent itself down the broad chimney, driving out the smoke from the fire into the room where they sat. "Yes, it'll be sure to overtake some of the coasters," added his wife.

"Heaven help 'em, then!" said he. "Hark! did you hear that?" "Thunder," responded his wife.

But the word had scarcely passed her lips, when a vivid, streaming flash lit up the whole cabin, and an instantaneous peal start led them from their very seats.

Then commenced the loud and melancholy wailing of the winds, sweeping like mad all about the frail tenement, careering without curb or restraint over the low, broad-stretching wastes that skirted the sea, and then driving tempestuously on to meet the long and tossing surges, as they came tumbling in from the ocean.

For fully an hour, and possibly it was more, old David and his good wife Sarah sat together in their humble cabin, listening in a silence that was almost unbroken to the increasing rage of the elements without, and inwardly thanking God that their lot that night was not upon the waters. It was an hour of profit to the hearts of both; for they were driven, even had they not been so inclined, to lend their thoughts to such subjects as the fearful circumstances around them suggested.

Their silence had been long uninterrupted, when the echo of a distant thunder-peal reached their ears.

"Was that thunder?" asked Sarah.