He studied the books and maps and charts,
All that they knew about foreign parts;

And he said to himself; "There certainly oughter Be some more land to balance the water.

"As sure as a gun the earth is round; Some day or other a way will be found To get to the east by sailing west;

Why shouldn't I find it as well as the rest?"

The court philosopher shook his head,
Laughing at all that Christopher said;
But the Queen of Spain said, “ Christopher C-
Here is some money; go and see."

That is just what he wanted to do,
And in fourteen hundred and ninety-two,
From the port of Palos one August day
This Christopher C went sailing away.

He sailed and sailed with the wind and tide,
But he never supposed that the sea was so wide.
And the sailors grumbled, and growled, and cried:
"We don't believe there's another side.

"Oh take us back to our native shore,
Or we never will see our wives any more.
Take us back, O Christopher C —,
Or we'll tumble you overboard into the sea.”

In spite of their threats he wouldn't do it;
There was land ahead, and Christopher knew it;
They found San Salvador, green and low,
And the Captain shouted "I told you so!

"This is the land King Solomon knew,
Where myrrh, and aloes, and spices grew,

Where gold, and silver, and gems are found,

Plenty as pebbles all over the ground."

They thought they had sailed clear round the ball,

But it wasn't the other side at all,

But an island, lying just off a shore
Nobody had ever seen before.

They planted their flag on a flowery plain,
To show that the country belonged to Spain;
But it never once entered Christopher's mind
That North America lay behind.

Then Christopher C, he sailed away,
And said he would come another day;
But, if he had stayed here long enough,
We should talk Spanish or some such stuff.

THE LOST FOUND.

"Twas only a missing sheep,

One out of the great wide fold,
'Twas a wayward sheep and wild,
And had wandered times untold.
But what if it died alone?

Or what if the hills were dark?
"Twas only a sheep that was lost,

As an arrow may miss the mark.
But the Shepherd answered, “I cannot rest
While my sheep is away from me;

I'll call till it comes, and I'll bring it home,
For I bought it on Calvary!"

'Twas only a silver coin;

And the silver was mixed with dross;
It seemed as a worthless thing,

And to lose it but little loss.

There were nine bright pieces left,

And they shone like the morning sun;

And why was there need to search

When the toils of the day were done? But the Seeker said, "Though the coin be rough, And though ragged its edges be,

Still it bears my image -I cannot rest

Till my lost piece of silver I see!"

"Twas only a prodigal son,
A wanderer far away;
A sinner made poor by his sin,
Getting poorer every day.
But what if he had no friend?

And what if he had to roam?

Would such a wild, prodigal son

Be missed in his father's home?

"Though all men condemn thee," the father said,

"Yet not I, for I came to save;

And I came to lift thee out of thy sins,

And to rescue thee from the grave!"

And the message in heaven was told,

Mid the music of angel choirs,
That a son was born anew,
By the Pentecostal fires;
That the fatted calf was killed,
And the fairest robe was given,
For the lost was found again,

As a child of the kingdom of heaven!

Rejoice! rejoice, for the dead are alive,
And the lost have a welcome given;

They have washed their robes, and made them white And of such is the kingdom of heaven."

COME, SIGN THE PLEDGE.-M. W. FRazer.

Come, sign the pledge! O thou whose hand

May scarcely guide the pen;

That thou a man once more may stand,

Among thy fellow men!

Ah, why a victim longer be

Of base, designing knaves?

Why longer have men say of thee,

"There's one of rum's poor slaves?"

Come, sign the pledge! No wizard's spell
E'er wrought so great a feat

Of wondrous change as he can tell,
Whose victory's complete

O'er that fierce fiend, whose ruthless hand
Doth crush his subjects down;

Nor stops to count how high they stand,
How great be their renown.

Come, sign the pledge! Here to record
With high resolve thy name

May thee a greater good afford,

Than on the scroll of fame. For oh, how often do we find

That man whom men extol,

With rum destroying his great mind,
Imperiling his soul.

Come, sign the pledge! 'twill be thy stay,

A balm for all thy wounds;

Enable thee to keep at bay

Rum's soul-destroying hounds; Restore the image which thy God

Unto thy countenance gave, And none may write above thy sod, "This is a drunkard's grave."

NICKEL PLATED.-I. EDGAR JONES.

Josephus Macduffus Florentinus Bran

Was a sweet, an accomplished, a handsome young man
He had studied in colleges, bored into books,
Had traveled with close and inquisitive looks,
With gold in his pocket and oil in his cruse—
Josephus was not of least practical use.

He talked of the 'ologies, Darwin and such,
And criticized all with commendable ease;
His envy was not at the front overmuch,

His purpose was kind, his intentions to please;
His eloquence floated on feathery wings,
Yet he was a cipher in practical things.

Miss Flora Blavinsky Mabellarine Purls
Was one of the sweetest and chattiest girls.
She had all the boarding school lore in her head,
With books of deportment; and all she had read
Would ripple in elegant prose from her tongue
In accents as sweet as a lark ever sung.

She thumped the piano with beautiful hands,

She painted on plaques and embroidered on frame, She was leader of chat in society's bands,

And never neglected society's claims;
As pretty a girl as the world could produce
But not of the least little practical use.

Josephus and Flora together were tied,

A beautiful mansion holds husband and bride;
They violate nothing, they fracture no rules,
Their children are nothings,-mere amiable fools.
No gossip against them one word has to say,

They smile and they chatter, they sing and they play;
But the world would not miss them if all died to-day

A QUIET SMOKE.-W. H. NEALL.

[COPYRIGHT, 1891.]

CHARACTERS.

MR. ADOLPHUS SHALLOWTOP, addicted to the use of tobacco.

MRS. ADOLPHUS SHALLOWTOP, with an aversion for the same.

SARA, their daughter.

CHARLES, her lover.

NELSON, an English servant, in livery.

SCENE.-A drawing-room in the Shallowtop residence, with ta ble, chairs, sofa, stool &c.

MRS. SHALLOWTOP (at door, as if bidding some one adieu). Good-bye Doctor-your orders shall be obeyed. (Advances to table; sits on chair; takes up fancy work.) That settles it. Mr. Shallowtop shall not touch, taste, smell, or even see tobacco in any form. I have known all along that he has been smoking too much. He is so nervous that the slightest noise upsets him. Now that he is suffering with the gout, I shall have him under my eye. I have instructed Sara not to dare furnish her father with anything of a smokable nature---not even a match; and I have also informed Charles that, if he ever expects to win Sara, with my consent, he must not even have the odor of tobacco upon him, when he visits here. Enter Nelson, loaded down with cigar boxes, all manner of pipes and various bags of tobacco hanging from hands and arms. He advances to centre.

MRS. S. (looking up.) Ah! Nelson, have you succeeded in gathering together all those filthy things?

NELSON. Hi 'ave, ma'am !

MRS. S. Then throw them into the street.

NELSON (staring in affright). Hif you please, ma'am; hinte the street, ma'am?

MRS. S. (decidedly.) I said into-the street. (Resumes work.) NELSON (staring first at Mrs. S. then at his burden). Ho! what ha wicked waste hof good material. (To Mrs. S.) Did you say hinto the street, ma'am?

MRS. S. (severely.) Nelson, I am not in the habit of repeating my orders but I did say, throw those articles into the street. (He turns to obey.) And Nelson, if you mention a word in ref.

*The character of servant can be easily changed, and adapted to Negro, Irish or other dialect, if costume is more attainable or the impersonation more desira ble.