THE WHIPPOORWILL. BY HENRY VAN DYKE. Do you remember, father,- At dusk I waited for you, Beside the lumber mill, And there I heard a hidden bird The place was all deserted; The mill wheel hung at rest; Was quivering in the west; You seemed so long in coming, I felt so much alone; The wide dark world was round me, And made my senses thrill With all the pain that haunts the strain Of mournful" whip-poor-will." What did I know of trouble? An idle little lad, I had not learned the lessons 'Twas but a shadowy sadness, I'll wait for you in the falling dew, But if you still remember, In that fair land of light, The pains and fears that touch us Along this edge of night, I think all earthly grieving, And all our mortal ill, To you must seem like a boy's sad dream, From "The Builders and Other Poems," by permission. Copyright, 1897, by Charles Scribner's Sons. DEFINITIONS. Whip'-poor-will, an American bird seldom seen except in the twilight; so called from the peculiar notes which it utters in the evening. Pō'eō nō, a creek in Pennsylvania. De şert'ed, left alone. Haunts, persists in staying with. Re sound'ed, sounded again. Shăd'ow ỹ, not having much substance. Twi'light, the time between sunset and darkness or between darkness and sunrise. Môr'tal, belonging to the present life. A BALLOON ASCENSION. BY WILLIS GAYLORD CLARK. My hour had now come and I entered the car. With a singular taste, the band struck up, at this moment, the melting air of "Sweet Home.” It almost overcame me. A thousand associations of youth, friends, of all that I must leave, rushed upon my mind. But I had no leisure for sentiment. A buzz ran through the assemblage; unnumbered hands were clapping, unnumbered hearts beating high; and I was the cause. Every eye was upon me. There was pride in the thought. "Let go was the word. The cheers redoubled, handkerchiefs waved from many a fair hand; bright faces beamed from every window and on every side. One dash with my knife, and I rose aloft, a habitant of air. How magnificent was the sight which now burst upon me! How sublime were my sensations! I waved the flag of my country; the cheers of the multitude from a thousand housetops reached me on the breeze; and a taste of the rarer atmosphere elevated my spirits into ecstasy. The city, with a brilliant sunshine striking the spires and domes, now unfolded to view a sight incomparably beautiful. My gondola went easily upward, cleaving the depths of heaven like a vital thing. A diagram placed before you, on the table, could not permit you to trace more definitely than I now could the streets, the highways, basins, wharves, and squares of the town. The hum of the city arose to my ear, as from a vast beehive; and I seemed the monarch bee, directing the swarm. I heard the rattling of carriages, the hearty "yo-heaveohs!" of sailors from the docks that, begirt with spars, hemmed the city round. I was a spectator of all, yet aloof and alone. Increasing stillness attended my way; and, at last, the murmurs of earth came to my ear like the vast vibrations of a bell. My car tilted and trembled, as I rose. A swift wind sometimes gave the balloon a rotary motion, which made me deathly sick for a moment; but strong emotion conquered all my physical ailings. My brain ached with the intensity of my rapture. Human sounds had fainted from my ear. I was in the abyss of heaven and alone with my God. I could tell my direction by the sun on my left; and, as his rays played on the aerostat, it seemed only a bright bubble wavering in the sky, and I, a suspended mote, hung by chance to its train. Looking below me, the distant Sound and Long Island appeared to the east; the bay lay to the south, sprinkled with shipping; under me, the city girded with bright rivers and sparry forests. The free wind was on my cheek and in my locks; afar, the ocean rolled its long, blue waves, checkered with masses of shadow and gushes of ruby sunlight; to the north and west, the interminable land, variegated like a map, dotted with purple and green and silver, faded to the eye. The atmosphere which I now breathed seemed to dilate my heart at every breath. I uttered some audible expressions. My voice was weaker than the faintest sound of a reed. There was no object near to make it reverberate or echo. My barometer now denoted an immense height; and as I looked upward and around, the concave above seemed like a mighty waste of purple air, verging to blackness. Below, it was lighter; but a long, lurid bar of cloud stretched along the west, temporarily excluding the sun. The shadows rushed afar into the void, and a solemn, Sabbath twilight reigned around. I was now startled by a fluttering in my gondola. It was my carrier pigeon. I had forgotten him entirely. I attached a string to his neck, with a label, announcing my height, then nearly four miles, and the state of the barometer. As he sat on the side of the car, and turned his tender eyes upon me in mute supplication, every feather shivering with apprehension, I felt that it was a guilty act to push him into the waste beneath. But it was done; he attempted to rise, but I outsped him; he then fell obliquely, fluttering and moaning, till I lost him in the haze. My greatest altitude had not yet been reached. was now five miles from terra firma. I began to breathe with difficulty. The atmosphere was too rare for safe respiration. I pulled my valve cord to descend. It refused to obey my hand. For a moment I was horror-struck. What was to be done? If I ascended much higher, the balloon would explode. I threw over some tissue paper to test my progress. It is well known that this will rise very swiftly. It fell, as if blown downward by a wind from the zenith. I was going upward like an arrow. I at tempted to pray, but my parched lips could not move. seized the cord again, with desperate energy. Blessed heaven! it moved. I I threw out more tissue. It rose to me like a wing of joy. I was descending. Though far from sunset, it was now dark about me, except a track of blood-red haze in the direction of the sun. I encountered a strong current of wind; mist was about me; it lay like dew upon my |