Took an egg from the nest-it was smooth and round, "Now, my boy, can you tell me what makes this sound?"

Faint and low-"tap, tap;" soft and slow, "rap, rap,"

Sharp and quick like a prisoner's pick,

"Hear it peep inside there," cried Tom with a shout. "How did it get in, and how can it get out?"

Tom was eager to help--he would break the shell.
Mamma smiled "All's well that ends well,
Be patient a while yet, my boy,' "click--click,"
And out popped the head of a dear little chick.
No room had it lacked, though snug was it packed,
There it was all complete, from its head to its feet.
The softest of down and the brightest of eyes,
And so big, why the shell wasn't half its size.

Tom gave a long whistle-" Mamma, now I see
That an egg is a chicken! though the how beats me.
An egg isn't a chicken, that I know and declare,
Yet an egg is a chicken, see the proof of it there!
Nobody can tell how it came in the shell;
Once out all in vain to pack it in again,
I think 'tis a miracle, mamma mine,
As much as that of the water and wine."

Mamma kissed her little boy, "It may be
That we try too much reasoning, you and I,

Yes, there are miracles wrought every day for our

eyes,

That we see without seeing or feeling surprise,

And we must take on trust what we can not ex

plain,

From the flower to the seed; from the seed to the

flower,

'Tis a world of miracles every hour.

THE BATTLE.

Heavy and solemn, a cloudy column!
Through the green plain they marching came.
Measureless spread, like a table dread,
For the wild grim dice of the iron game.
Looks are bent on the shaking ground,
Hearts beat low with a knelling sound;
Swift by the breasts that must bear the brunt
Gallops the major along the front;

66 Halt!"

And fettered they stand at the stark command,
And the warriors, silent, halt!

Proud in the blush of morning glowing,
What on the hill-top shines in flowing?
"See you the foeman's banners waving?
"We see the foeman's banners waving!
"God be with you, children, and wife!"
Hark to the music-the drum and fife-
How they ring through the ranks which they rouse
to the strife!

Thrilling they sound with their glorious tone,
Thrilling they go through the marrow and bone!
"Brothers, God grant when this life is o'er,
In the life to come that we meet once more!"

See the smoke, how the lightning is cleaving asunder! Hark! the guns, peal on peal, how they boom in their thunder!

From host to host, with kindling sound,

The shouting signal circles round;
Ay, shout it forth to life or death,
Freer already breathes the breath!
The war is waging, slaughter raging,
And heavy through the reeking pall
The iron death-dice fall!

Nearer they close, foes upon foes.
"Ready!" from square to square it goes.

They kneel as one man, from flank to flank,
And the fire comes sharp from the foremost rank.
Many a soldier to earth is sent,

Many a gap by the balls is rent;

O'er the corse before springs the hinder mar,
That the line may not fail to the fearless van.
To the right, to the left, and around and around,
Death whirls in its dance on the bloody ground.
God's sunlight is quenched in the fiery fight,
Over the host falls a brooding night!
Brothers, God grant, when this life is o'er,
In the life to come that we meet once more!

The dead men lie bathed in the weltering blood,
And the living are blent in the slippery flood,
And the feet, as they reeling and sliding go,
Stumble still on the corses that sleep below.
"What! Francis!" "Give Charlotte my last fare-
well."

As the dying man murmurs, the thunders swell.

66

I'll give-O God! are their guns so near?

Ho, comrades!-yon volley!-look sharp to the

rear!

I'll give thy Charlotte thy last farewell;

Sleep soft! where death thickest descendeth in rain,
The friend thou forsakest thy side may regain!"
Hitherward, thitherward, reels the fight,
Dark and more darkly day glooms into night;
Brothers, God grant, when this life is o'er,
In the life to come that we meet once more!
Hark to the hoofs that galloping go!
The adjutants flying!

The horsemen press hard on the panting foe,
Their thunder booms, in dying--

Victory!

Terror has seized on the dastards all,

And their colors fall!

Victory!

Closed is the brunt of the glorious fight;

And the day, like a conqueror, bursts on the night.

Trumpet and fife swelling choral along,

The triumph already sweeps marching in song. Farewell, fallen brothers; though this life be o'er, There's another in which we shall meet you once more! Schiller.

MANSIE WAUCH AT THE PLAY.

(Prize Recitation at the North Mo. State Normal, June, 1889.)

Mony a time an' often had I heard o' play-actin' an' o' players makin' themselves kings and queens, an' sayin' a great many wonderfu' things, but I had never before an opportunity o' witnessin' the truth. o' these hearsays. So Maister Glen an' I determined to run the risk o' our minister's rebuke for the transgression, hopin' it would make na lastin' impression on his mind, paid oor money at the door and were soon inside the playhouse. Never, while I live an' breathe, will I forget what we heard and saw that nicht! The place was crowded to the e'e, and richt to the forehand o' us was a large green curtain. Just in front o' it were eight or ten penny candles stuck in a board, fastened to the ground, to let us see the players' feet like when they came upon the stage, while twa blind fiddlers played the bonniest ye ever heard. Odds! the very music was worth a sixpence o' itself.

Just at the time that the fiddlers were playin' the "Doonfa' o' Paris," a hand bell rang and up goes the green curtain. The music stoppin', in comes a decent old gentleman at his leisure, weel poothered, wi' an auld-fashioned coat, wi' flap-pockets, broon breeches, wi' buckles at the knee, an silk stockin's wi' gushets on a blue ground. I never saw a man in sic distress. He stampit aboot, an' stampit aboot, dadding the end o' his staff on the ground, and implorin' all the pooers o' heaven an' yearth to help him find his runawa' dauchter that had decampit wi'

a puir loon o' a half-pay captain, that keppit her in his arms frae her bedroom window, up twa pair o' stairs. Every father an' heid o' a family maun ha'e felt for a man in his situation, thus to be robbit of his dear bairn, an' only dauchter, too, as he tell't us ower an' ower again, as the saut, saut tears ran gushin' doon his withered face. But the thing was absurd, to suppose that we should ken anything aboot the matter, havin' never seen either him or his dauchter. Sae oot he gaed stampin' at the ither side, determined, as he said, to fin' them oot, though he should follow them to the warld's end.

Hardly was his back turned, an' before ye could cry "Jack Robinson," in comes the birkie an' the very young leddy the auld gentleman described, arm in arm thegither. As true as death, before all the crood o' folks, he pit his arm roon' her waist an' ca'd her his sweetheart, an' love, an' dearie, an' darlin', an' everything that is sweet. If they had been courtin' in a close thegither, on a Friday nicht, they couldna' ha'e said mair to yen anither. I thought sic shame to be an e'ewitness to sic on-goin's, that I was obliged at last to haud up my hat afore my face an' luik doon.

The faither lookit to be a rich auld bool, baith frae his manner o' speakin', an' the rewards he seemed to offer for the apprehension o' the dauchter; but, to be sure, when so many of us were present that had an equal right to the spulzie, it wadna be a great deal

a thoosand poonds--when dividit. Still, it were worth the lookin' after; so we just bidit a wee. Just in the middle o' their fine goin's-on, the sound o' a comin' fit was heard, an' the lassie, takin' guilt tae hersel, cried oot--" Hide me, hide me, for the sake o' gudeness, for yonder comes my auld faither!"

Nae sooner said than done. In he clappit her intil a closet; and after shuttin' the door on her, sat doon upon a chair, an' pretendit to be asleep in a moment. The auld faither came booncing in, and seeing the fellow asleep, he opened his een as fast as he had steekit them. After blackguarding him up hill an'