I'm a madman! Down with you! Blood! blood! 1 will have it!"

I closed with him, and with a heavy crash we rolled upon the floor. It was a fine struggle, that; for he was a strong man fighting for his life, and I a furious madman thirsting to destroy him. His struggles grew weaker, and at last I knelt upon his chest, and clasped his brawny throat firmly between both hands. His face grew purple, and his eyes were starting from his head; when the door was suddenly burst open, and a crowd of people rushed forward, crying aloud to each other to secure the madman!

My secret was out; and my only struggle now was for liberty. I gained my feet before a hand was on me; reached the door, dropped over the banisters, and in an instant was in the street. Straight and swift I ran, and no one dared stop me. I heard the noise of feet behind. On I bounded, through marsh and rivulet, over fence and wall. I was borne upon. the arms of demons, who swept along upon the wind, and spun me round and round with a speed that made my head swim, until at last they threw me from them with a violent shock, and I fell heavily upon the earth. When I awoke, I found myself herehere in this gray cell, where the sunlight seldom comes, and the moon steals in, in rays, which only serve to show the dark shadows about me, and that silent figure in its old, old corner.-Charles Dickens.

BEFORE AND AFTER SCHOOL.

(Before School.)

"Quarter to nine! Boys and girls, do you hear?" "One more buckwheat, then-be quick, mother dear! Where is my luncheon box?" "Under the shelf, In the very same place you left it yourself!"

"I can't say my table!" "Oh, find me my hat!" "One kiss for mamma, and sweet sis in her lap." "Be good, dear!" "I'll try-9 times 9's 81."

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Here's your mittens!" "All right." "Hurry up,
Bill; let's run."

Bang of the door! they are off, girls and boys,
And mother draws breath in the lull of their noise.

(After School.)

"Don't wake up the baby! Come gently, my dear!"
"O mother, I've torn my new dress. Just look here!"
I'm sorry; I was only climbing the wall!"
"O mother, my map was the nicest of all!"
"And Nelly in spelling went up to the head!"
"O, say, can't I go out on the hill with my sled?"
"I've got such a toothache." "The teacher's un-
fair!"

"Is dinner most ready? I'm just like a bear!"
Be patient, worn mother, they're growing up fast.
These nursery whirlwinds, not long do they last;
A still, lonely house would be far worse than noise;
Rejoice and be glad in your dear girls and boys.
Rhode Island Schoolmaster.

WOMAN AND THE ROSE.

Fair Flora on the terrace stands
With grace in every pose,
Green leaves of myrtle in her hands,
Crowned by one bright red rose.

Of human kind what may transcend
That maid, whose cheek red glows?
In floral worlds, what can contend
In beauty with the rose?

Pre-eminent each in its way
They traits in life expose,
Closely allied in their display,
This woman and the rose.

They are both tender, sweet, and fair,
They blush as they disclose-
Woman-charms, so chaste, so rare,
Charms so chaste, the rose.

Two lives thus blest, by love imbued,
One color on them glows,
And nature stamps similitude
On woman and the rose.

As girlhood buds to woman grown,
And bud to flower blows;

Blooms woman where most love is shown
Most love where blooms the rose.

Thus as they bloom man's life to cheer,
Their summer comes and goes;
Though woman counts hers by the year,
By days but counts the rose.

In their decay one germ remains,
The source of all their woes;
In woman this the face explains,
In fading, this the rose.

And when at last life's race is run,
Funereal rites impose

Sad tributes to and from each one-
The woman and the rose.

How fitting then in death's dark trust
One grave should o'er them close,

And there should mingle the sweet dust
Of woman and the rose.

James Stewart.

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TWICKENHAM FERRY.

O-hoi-ye-ho! Ho-ye-ho! Who's for the ferry? The briar's in bud, the sun's going down,

And I'll row ye so swift, and I'll row ye so steady, And 'tis but a mile to Twickenham Town."

The ferryman's slim, and the ferryman's young,
And he's just a soft twang in the turn of his tongue,
And he's fresh as a pippin, and brown as a berry
And 'tis but a penny to Twickenham Town.

"O-hoi-ye-ho! Ho-ye-ho! I'm for the ferry!
The briar's in bud; the sun's going down,
And it's late as it is, and I haven't a penny,
Oh! how shall I get me to Twickenham Town?"

She'd a rose in her bonnet, and oh, she looked sweet As the little pink flower that grows in the wheat, With her cheeks like a rose, and her lips like a cherry, "And sure and you're welcome to Twickenham Town."

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'O-hoi-ye-ho! Ho-ye-ho! I'm for the ferry! "Aha! But the briar's in bud, the sun's going down, You're too late for the Ferry."

And he's not rowing swift, and he's not rowing steady, You'd think 'twas a journey to Twickenham Town.

"Oho-and oho!" "Ha! ha! you may call as you will; The moon is arising on Petersham Hill,

But with love like a rose in the stern of the wherry There's danger in crossing to Twickenham Town."

ROBIN.

(Prize Recitation, Jan. 1889. N. Mo. State Normal.)

Sell old Robin, did you say?

Well, I reckon not to-day,

I have let you have your way

With the meadows and the fallows;
Draining swamps, and filling hollows;
And you're mighty deep, Don Alvoord,
But the sea itself has shallows;

And there are some things you don't know.
No, you're not so green, of course,

As to feed a worn-out horse

Out of pity and remorse, very long.
But as long as I am master

Of a bit of shed or pasture,

Not for all the wealth of a Vanderbilt or Astor Would I do old Robin there, such a wrong!

He is old and lame, alas!

Don't disturb him as you pass.
Let him lie there while he may,
And enjoy the summer weather.
We were young and gay together.

It was I who rode him first. Ah, the day!
I was just a little chap in first coat and cap
And I left my mother's lap at the door.
See him start and prick his ears!

I believe he understands every word!
And once more, it may be, fancies
He carries me, and prances,
While my mother from the doorway,
Follows us with happy glances.

You may laugh, but poor old Robin

'Does he know how I used to cling and crow, As I rode him to and fro and around?

Ah, the nag you so disdain

With scanty tail and mane

Then was taper-limbed and glossy,

As we rode away to school

In the morning fresh and cool.

One day, beside the pool, where he drank,

Leaning on my handsome trotter,

Glancing up across the water