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radiance of a tropical sun, is in many places abandoned to sterility; when the waters have retired, leaving a broad and glästly margin, white with the incrustation of salts, while the cities and hamlets on their borders have mould ered into ruins ;--eV now that dusolation broods over the landscape, so indestructible are the lines of beauty which nature bas traced on its features, that no traveler, however cold, can yaze on them with any other emotions than those of astonishment and rapture.

What, then, must have been the emotions of the Span jards, when, after working their toilsone way into the upper air, the cloudy tabernacle parted before their eyes, and they beheld these fair scenes in all their pristine magnificence and beauty! It was like the spectacle which greeted the eyes of Moses from the summit of Pisyah, and, in the warm glow of their feelings. they cried out, “ It is the promised land!”

PAT'S WISDOM.
Tim Dolun and his wife, wan night,

Were drinkin' av the crayture,
Whin something started up a fight,
And they wint at it right an' tight,

According to their nature.
O'Grady and mesilf stood near,

Expecting bloody murther.
Says lie to me: “Let's interfere."
But I, pretending not to hear,

Moved off a little further.
"Lave off, ye brute,” says he to Tim;

No man wud sthrike a lady."
But both the Doolans turned on him,
And in a whist the two av them

Were wallopin O'Grady.
That night whin I was home, in bed,

Remimbering this token,
I took the notion in my head
That the wisest word I iver said

Was the one that wasn't spoken.

THE COLONEL'S ORDERS.- ROBERT C. V. MEYERS.

Wrillen expressly for this Collection. The Colonel loved sweet Cicely-alas! she loved not him. The Lieutenant loved sweet Cicely- that was another

inatter; For the Colonel he was old and fat, the Lieutenant young

and slimn. When the Colonel heard they were engaged he was mad

as any batter. He led his men an awful life,-court-martialed Captain Green For laughing after “ taps," and threw his boots at Corporal

Brady For incidentally mentioning at mess that he had seen The young Lieutenant, who was off on sick-leave, with a

lady. For five whole days the Colonel was so sedulously warmed The thermometer rushed up, they said, and two men had

a sun-stroke, Although 'twas wintry weather and the ice with skaters

swarmed, And the bitter frost had grown so fierce the barrel of a gun

broke. But after these peculiar days the Colonel saw his chance, He would recall the absent man, yea, bring him o'er the

borders, Would keep him here in camp where he would find small

chance to dance Attendance on sweet Cicely while waiting marching-orders. He laughed with glee at his bright plan and called up Cap

tain Green And complimented him upon leis drilling; Corporal Brady He called the best of corporals that there had ever been And said he'd get promotion, though he'd better keep

that shady. And then he sent a telegram to the Lieutenant. This: “ Join at once.” No more, no less.“ Join at once.” 'Twas

shabby, But it was an inspiration, and it filled his soul with bliss, And he chuckled till his face grew red, his collar damp

and dabby. But the young Lieutenant-ah, you should have seen his

face when he Received the spiteful message. He understood the Colonel. I fear he used some naughty words. He set out hastily

To find and tell sweet Cicely, vowing rage eternal.

He found her and he showed her the words so curt and

glum. She read them - “Join at once," and grew a little pale and

flurried. She understood the Colonel too, and while her lips were

dumb Her heart was voluble in blaine and all her blood was

hurried. She read the words and read them, the Lieutenant standing

there, A monument of grief and rage, his voice too sad for speak

ing, When suddenly she blushed; she said, “Good gracious! how

you stare. The Colonel is a darling!” “A darling!" cried he, wreaking His vengeance in that tender word. 'Yes, yes," said she,

" my dear, He loves vou like a father, and -oh, read his orders,

stupid !" He read them. “Well, what is it?" he helpless asked.

“They're clear Enough.” “Oh, dear!” she cried, “ you are a mere man.

He's Dan Cupid.” “What!” cried the young Lieutenant, quite blazing.

“Hush!” said she, Are you so poor a soldier that the poor dear Colonel's

meaning Makes you angry? oh, my goodness! you are stupid as can be When these orders --" and she went to him, her arms upon

him leaning, "These orders they must be obeyed. Dare you to disobey The martial mandate which the wires have brought you

from your Colonel!” "Ha! Ha!” the young Lieutenant roared, “ Ha! Ha! Ha!

Ha!” They say He laughed so much he stood the risk of injury internal. "Ha! Ha!” laughed he, till she laughed too, though red as

any rose. "Now to obey the orders!” said the young Lieutenant.

Mercy!” Cried she, “you're in a hurry like the Colonel, I suppose. Wbile as for me," she pouted, though she smiied with

lips all pursy. At any rate, next day in camp the Colonel, stiff, upright,

Looking for the absent man received a telegraphic

66

Message which turned white to black, the morning into

night, And made a temper fiendish that had learned to be

seraphic. Captain Green he called a fool for saying, “ A fine day!” He told young Corporal Brady that his hair was never

parted; He tore around amongst the men in an abnormal way, Till a new recruit deserted, having grown quite chicken.

hearted. And yet the message that did this was an answer to his own; The young Lieutenant sent it with precision o'er the bor

ders Though I think sweet Cicely worded it, it had so much her

toneIt read thus –“ We were joined at once. I have obeyed

your orders.”

OLD TENNANT CHURCH.-GEORGE W. BUNGAY. The Old Tennant Church of Monmonth County, New Jersey, was erected more than one hures and sixty years ago upon the site now famous and his torical as the battle-ground of Monmonth. The pew stained with the blood of a soldier wouded in the fight remains as it w:s at the time of the Revolutiuli, and the buulet huiles in the walls seem like eves of the past looking down up! the present. Near this old strncture Washington hild couns with his staff, under the trees that are still staring. The fill wing poem was read, by the author at a meeting hell Sundry evring, April 28, 1889, in Rev. Dr. Eddy's Baptist Church, Brioklyn, N. Y.

In vain through history we search,
Or look, where honor's eagles perch

On loftv heights of song and story,
For brighter fame than Tennant Church

Has won on patriot rolls of glory.
There is the pulpit, there the pews,
Where grace came down like heavenly dews

Upon the people and their pastor.
There holy men proclaimed the news

Of love and mercy of the Master.
'Twas there the sainted Tennant stood,
And there his flock poured out their blood

As freely as the clouds pour water;
A patriotic brotherhood,

Baptized in the flame and blood of slaughter.
The wild flowers splasheil with stains of red,
Repeat the drops upon them shed

Above the dust the sexton gathers;

There birds in branches overhead

Sing the soft requiem of the fathers. Tell me, ye brave old trees that stand Like sentinels so tall and grand,

Watching the camp where sleep our brave Was Washington's great battle planned

Upon the spot now heaped with graves? Did ye clap your green palms with glee When great George male the red-coats flee

Over the fields that blushed with clover? Did ye look up through buds and see

The angel freedom hovering over? 'Tis not the tribute of a tear, Nor song our heroes cannot hear,

Alone we give; they died, and we Now feel their precious presence near

This Sabbath day of Liberty.

JOHN OF MT. SINAI.-A. L. FRISBIE. Among the Sinai monks the Brother John, A shrunk and dwarfish man, was numbered, ono Who winced beneath the burden of the cross; And, while he claimed to count his gain but loss For Christ, he counted grudgingly the gain He lost, and gave it up for Christ with pain. And when to labors till the evening damp Were added vigils by the midnight !aip, Abundant hardships after meager fare, Of sleep o'er little, and o'er much of prayer, The monk's vocation seemed no easy yoke And burden light, of which the Master spoke. He bore it with impatience. Poor, unwise, He dwelt upon the pain of sacrifice And lost its blessing. In his troubled breast His wrung soul cried a bitter cry for rest. “Behold,” said he," the lilies, how they grow! They toil not. spin not, yet I surely know They give God glory which He pleased receives, And them His easy service never grieves. The angels, too, in their celestial spheres, No flagellations bave, nor fasts, nor tears,

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