have not fallen, and to-day would have been their diamond wedding. We had planned much for it, and I wonder — I wonder- but no! Where they are there is neither marriage nor giving in marriage.

SQUIRE HOUSTON'S MARRIAGE CERE

MONY.

You bromish now, you goot man dare,
Vot sthands ubon de vloor,

To hab dish vooman for your vife,
Und lub her ebbermore;

To feed her vell mit sourkraut,
Peens, putthermilks und scheese,

Und in all dings to lend your aid,
Dat vill bromote her ease?

66

'Yesh;" und you vooman sthandin dare,
Do bledge your vord dish tay,

Dat you vill took for your hoospand,
Dis man - und him obey;

Dat you vill ped und poard mit him,
Vosh, iron und mend his cloothes,
Laf ven he shmiles, veep ven he moorns,
Und chare his shoys und voes?

Vell, den, I now, viddin dese valls,
Mit shoy, und not mit kreef,
Bronounch you bote to pe one mind,
Von name, von man, von beef;
I pooblish here dese holy pands,
Dese matthermoonial ties,

Pefore Got, mine frow, Hans und Poll,
Und all dese gazin eyes.

Und, as de shacred Schripture says,

Vot God unites togedder

Let no man dare ashunder put,

Let no man dare dem sever.

Dare! britekroom, now schoost you sthop,
I'll hold tight fasht your collar,

Unteel you anshwer me dish ting,

Und dat's

vare ish mine tollar?

THE BAFFLED BOOK AGENT.

HE came in briskly and sat down, with a corner of his paper collar reared over his left ear. A qualmy smell of last week's clothes hung about him. He turned his glass eyes upon us, and, loosening his india-rubber tongue, began:

-

'The Universal History of the Universe'. - in two thousand instalments- fifty cents an instalment - three hundred engravings

"Stop, my friend. Restrain that intellectual flow — dam up that torrent of eloquence. Listen to me. Do you know what has come to me since I saw you last? It was in Octo

"But sir" interrupted the book-agent, "you never saw me before."

"Never saw you! Impossible! Could one who once gazed on those noble lineaments ever forget them? Could that coy wart on the nose be ever forgotten, or that eloquent mole on your iron jaw? Never, never! It was in October that I met you last. Blessed October,- that month of ripeness and of sobered passion! Do you know of all the months in the year, October is

"Pardon me, sir," exclaimed the book-agent, rolling his brass eyelids in desperation, "you are -"

66

Pardon me, sir; I cannot allow any man to hold the reins of conversation over me,-I will not be interrupted,— to resume: my great-grandmother was the pertest woman of her age that you ever saw. She was one hundred and thirty-two years old, and yet was as chipper as the best of us. My brother, who was an inventive man, put her on a pair of wheels, and it would have done you good to have seen her scoot around. I suppose ours was the only family that could boast of a grandmother on wheels, and yet "But, sir, I am in a great hurry, and "You must positively not interrupt me, my friend. As I was saying before, when a man has a family growing up around him it is hard to say which one he loves best. And yet that boy of mine, with the strawberry mark on his left there's a queer story connected with that strawberrymark, that would please you,- have you a child? "

ear

"I am the father of thirteen miserable children," he replied.

“Ah, then you can sympathize with my story. You have been a mother yourself. Ah, you can sound the depth of a mother's love! It is as deep as an artesian well, as high as a liberty-pole. It soars like a Chinese kite, it grovels like a ground-hog. It is sweet to be a mother. It gives us a new life, and fills us with a broad, deep, sweet

66

Really, sir, I haven't the time—” broke out the perplexed and desperate agent.

"Now there you go again. You throw me out every time. But to go back to our conversation: I do think he was the sweetest dog I ever saw. Although he was quite young when he was born, he seemed to take to learning naturally. When I would send him to drive the pigs out of the yard, he would take the little pigs patronizingly by the

ear

“Ha, ha!" laughed the book-agent, dolefully; “quite a bright dog - quite bright - but would you like this

• Univ

66

Interrupting me again there! But it don't matter. To resume: As I said before, the boat was very small, and quite cranky. It rocked wildly, the girl became excited, and it was hard to control her. You have doubtless been on the water, and understand

Just here the book-agent rose, his steel joints snapping viciously. He cast one wild, scared look around him, and made for the door. Having reached the door, he turned and looked back hungrily. He brightened up, as if he were going to open the conversation again; but he gulped his sorrow down hastily, and fled.

"Come back and see us again," we called, blandly, over the stairs. "You are such a good listener it's a pleasure to talk to you. Yes, come again. Come during the next centennial!"

1

SCENE FROM MARY STUART.

(The Park at Fotheringay.)

MARY. Farewell, high thought, and pride of noble mind!
I will forget my dignity, and all

My sufferings; I will fall before her feet,

Who hath reduced me to this wretchedness.

[She turns towards ELIZABETH.

The voice of Heaven decides for you, my sister.
Your happy brows are now with triumph crown'd,
I bless the Power Divine, which thus hath rais'd you.
[She kneels.

But in your turn be merciful, my sister;
Let me not lie before you thus disgraced;
Stretch forth your hand, your royal hand, to raise
Your sister from the depths of her distress.
ELIZABETH (stepping back).

You are where it becomes you, Lady Stuart;
And thankfully I prize my God's protection,
Who hath not suffered me to kneel a suppliant
Thus at your feet, as you now kneel at mine.
MARY (with increasing energy of feeling).

Think on all earthly things, vicissitudes.
Oh! there are gods who punish haughty pride:
Respect them, honor them, the dreadful ones
Who thus before thy feet have humbled me!
Dishonor not

Yourself in me: profane not, nor disgrace
The royal blood of Tudor.

ELIZ. (cold and severe).

What would you say to me, my Lady Stuart?
You wish'd to speak with me; and I, forgetting
The Queen, and all the wrongs I have sustain'd,
Fulfill the pious duty of the sister,

And grant the boon you wished for of my presence.
Yet I, in yielding to the gen'rous feelings
Of magnanimity, expose myself

To rightful censure, that I stoop so low.

For well you know, you would have had me murder'd.

MARY. O! how shall I begin? O, how shall I

So artfully arrange my cautious words,

That they may touch, yet not offend your heart?
I am a Queen, like you, yet you have held me
Confin'd in prison. As a suppliant

I came to you, yet you in me insulted
The pious use of hospitality;

Slighting in me the holy law of nations,
Immur'd me in a dungeon-tore from me
My friends and servants; to unseemly want
I was exposed, and hurried to the bar
Of a disgraceful, insolent tribunal.

No more of this; in everlasting silence
Be buried all the cruelties I suffer'd!

See I will throw the blame of all on fate,
'Twas not your fault, no more than it was mine.
An evil spirit rose from the abyss,

To kindle in our hearts the flames of hate,
By which our tender youth had been divided.
[Approaching her confidently, and with a flat-
tering tone.

Now stand we face to face; now, sister, speak;
Name but my crime, I'll fully satisfy you,
Alas! had you vouchsaf'd to hear me then,
When I so earnest sought to meet your eye,
It never would have come to this, nor would,
Here in this mournful place, have happen'd now
This so distressful, this so mournful meeting.
ELIZ. My better stars preserv'd me. I was warn'd,
And laid not to my breast the pois'nous adder!
Accuse not fate! your own deceitful heart
It was, the wild ambition of your house.
But God is with me. The blow was aim'd
Full at my head, but yours it is which falls!
MARY. I'm in the hand of Heav'n. You never will
Exert so cruelly the pow'r it gives you.

ELIZ. Who shall prevent me? Say, did not your uncle
Set all the Kings of Europe the example,

MARY.

ELIZ.

MARY.

How to conclude a peace with those they hate?
Force is my only surety; no alliance
Can be concluded with a race of vipers.
You have constantly regarded me

But as a stranger, and an enemy,

Had you declar'd me heir to your dominions,
As is my right, then gratitude and love
In me had fix'd, for you, a faithful friend
And kinswoman.

Your friendship is abroad.

Name you my successor! The treach'rous snare!
That in my life you might seduce my people;
And, like a sly Armida, in your net

Entangle all our noble English youth;
That all might turn to the new rising sun,
And I -

O sister, rule your realm in peace.