Rome may sit on her

Seven hills and howl,
But she cannot
Sit on me!

Will she please put that
In her organ and grind it?

I am mostly a bird of peace,
And I was born without teeth,
But I've got talons

That reach from the storm-
Beaten coasts of the Atlantic
To the golden shores of the
Placid Pacific,

And I use the Rocky Mountains

As whetstones to sharpen them on.

I never cackle till I

Lay an egg;

And I point with pride

To the eggs I've laid

In the last hundred years or so.

I'm game from

The point of my beak

To the star-spangled tip
Of my tail feathers,
And when I begin
To scratch gravel,
Mind your eye!

I'm the cock of the walk,
And the hen bird of the
Goddess of Liberty,

The only gallinaceous
E Pluribus Unum

On record.

I'm an Eagle from Eagleville,

With a scream on me that makes

Thunder sound like

Dropping cotton

On a still morning,

And my present address is

Hail Columbia,

U. S. A.!!

See?

BO'S'N JACK OF THE "ALBATROSS.
E. STANWAY JACKSON

The good ship "Albatross" sailed out
From Hull Old Dock at morn;
And quickly down the Humber dropped,
And past the Spurn was borne.
Her ample canvas freely shook
From every yard and mast,

To hold the merry wind that blew,
And northward drove her fast.
No more her seamen catch the sight
Of English hills or capes,

But glittering icebergs past them float,
With weird fantastic shapes.

The flowers were blooming when she sailed,
But now the sloes were black;

And one by one the whaling fleet

Had safely journeyed back.

And some were full, and some were clean,
And some had little gained;

Of all the ships, the "Albatross"
Unheard of still remained.

Then many a seaman heard the quest

Of pretty Polly Green :

"Oh, tell me sailor, the last time The 'Albatross' was seen?

"A goodly craft and trim was she,
Oh, tell me, sailor true;

A skilful captain bold she had,
A smart and gallant crew;
And everybody knew my Jack,
The merry bo's'n he;

Oh, did you speak the 'Albatross,'
Where think you may she be?"

All cheerily the seamen spoke

In answer to the maid:

They knew the ship, but none might tell
The cause which her delayed.

But many a night that winter time,

Was Polly Green content

To sit before the fire and hear

The yarns of Harry Dent.

The whaler "Falcon" was the last
That homeward came that fall:
She once had seen the “Albatross,"
Just spoke her, that was all.
While Polly listened, Harry talked,
Told every tale he knew;

Nor did the maiden heed the while
How friend to lover grew.

The winter past, the spring returned,
And brighter glowed the sky;
And eager every crew was found,
Their luck once more to try.
Each lover's art young Harry plied,
Nor word nor pledge could earn;
For faithful Mary's heart alone
To distant Jack would turn.
"I will not yet despair," she said,
"Or be I brave or mad;

And Harry, if you love me true,
Bring back my sailor lad."

The more he urged, the firmer still
The maiden stood her ground,—
Her baseless faith that even yet
Her lover might be found.
They parted; but his eager heart
Two feelings strong divide,—
The love of Polly, and the hate
Of Jack burn side by side;

If he were found, all hope were fled,
But were his rival lost

He might succeed; a threatening doubt
His restless spirit crossed.

Away, away, the "Falcon" sped,

The seamen's hope rose high; Still further north, where icy spires

Stood sharp against the sky;

Then through the floes and drifting packs,

They slowly make their way,

Until they find the lonely haunts

Where seal and walrus play.

Alone they dwell in that white world

Of ice and frost and snow,

Where magic lights and changing tints,
From bright Auroras glow.

One day in headlong quest of game,
Had Harry wandered wide;
He paused to gaze, some mark to find,
His wandering steps to guide.
Far, far behind he faintly saw
The "Falcon's" lofty mast,
But when ahead, with watchful care
His eager glance was cast,
He saw, or thought he saw, a sight
That filled him with surprise;
A tattered remnant of a flag,
Hung out against the skies.

He onward pressed with hasty steps,
And still divided mind,

His hope and fear that now at length
His rival he might find.

Approaching near, he plainly read
The letters A L B-

The rest was gone, that part was left,
He could not choose but see.

The past came back with vivid force,
And then, perchance he thought,
And thinking, he despised himself,

I help too late have brought."

He found a poor and tottering tent;
Cold, stiff and dead without,
One seaman's wasted body lay;
He entered,-there no doubt
His rival lay, stretched out alone,
Of all the crew the last.

He looked and found him breathing still,

Then through his spirit passed

A hatred, a temptation strong,
A blasting, scorching pain;
How easy now to end it all;—

And then he thought of Cain.

He paused, he trembled head and foot,
Of home and Polly thought;

He saw her tearful, pleading eyes;
In briefest moment short

A voiceless prayer to heaven he sent;
One purpose clearly felt,

To save that life, whate'er he lost;
And gently down he knelt;

Did what he could, then sought for aid,
With breathless haste and speed;
And soon returned with willing hands
To help him in his need.

Far, far away one heart there was
That lived 'twixt hope and dread,
And when the shorter days returned,
Oft from the jetty head

She watched the ships come tacking in,
And asked the sailor men

"Oh, have you seen the 'Albatross,'
Will she come back again?"
But kindly is a sailor's heart,
They gently spoke the lass,
"We have not seen the ship and fear
No more this way she'll pass."

So one by one they all returned,
At last the "Falcon" came;
And Polly soon found Harry out,
Her question still the same.
He showed the bit of bunting worn,
He simply told his tale:

The "Albatross" was lost indeed,

But Jack was safe and hale.

He saw their joy, he felt a pang,—
A quick, deep pang of pain;
But oft in after years he said,

"Some loss brings sweetest gain."

THE WOMAN HEALED.-MRS. JESSIE F. HOUSER.

The throng was great. Back from the Gaderenes
Who would have none of Him, the Christ had come

Unto his own again. With what great joy
They welcomed his return! How eagerly
They pressed around his blessed form, sick ones
And sinful, just to feel His healing touch;