"I've spun a piece of hempen cloth,
And I want to spin another-

A little sheet for Mary's bed
And an apron for her mother!'

"And with that I could not help but laugh,
And I laughed out loud and free;
And then on the top of the Caldon-Low,
There was no one left but me.

"And all on the top of the Caldon-Low
The mists were cold and gray,

And nothing I saw but the mossy stones
That round about me lay.

But, as I came down from the hill-top,
I heard, afar below,

How busy the jolly miller was,

And how merry the wheel did go

!

"And I peeped into the widow's field,
And, sure enough, was seen

The yellow ears of the mildewed corn
All standing stiff and green!

"And down by the weaver's croft I stole,
To see if the flax were high;
But I saw the weaver at his gate
With the good news in his eye!

"Now, this is all that I heard, mother, And all that I did see;

So, prithee, make my bed, mother,

For I'm tired as I can be!"

THE CHILDREN IN THE MOON.

HEARKEN, child, unto a story!

For the moon is in the sky, And across her shield of silver See two tiny cloudlets fly.

Watch them closely, mark them sharply,
As across the light they pass :
Seem they not to have the figures
Of a little lad and lass?

See, my child, across their shoulders
Lies a little pole! and lo!
Yonder speck is just the bucket
Swinging softly to and fro.

It is said these little children,
Many and many a summer night,

To a little well far northward
Wandered in the still moonlight.

To the wayside-well they trotted,
Filled their little buckets there;
And the moon-man, looking downward,
Saw how beautiful they were.

Quoth the man, “How vexed and sulky
Looks the little rosy boy!

But the little handsome maiden

Trips behind him full of joy.

"To the well behind the hedgerow
Trot the little lad and maiden ;
From the well behind the hedgerow
Now the little pail is laden.

"How they please me! how they tempt me!
Shall I snatch them up to-night?
Snatch them, set them here for ever
In the middle of my light?

"Children, ay, and children's children,
Should behold my babes on high ;
And my babes should smile for ever,
Calling others to the sky!"

Thus the philosophic moon-man
Muttered many years ago;

Set the babes, with pole and bucket,
To delight the folks below.

Never is the bucket empty,

Never are the children old; Ever when the moon is shining We the children may behold.

Ever young and ever little,

Ever sweet and ever fair! When thou art a man, my darling, Still the children will be there.

Ever young and ever little,

They will smile when thou art old; When thy locks are thin and silver,

Theirs will still be shining gold.

They will haunt thee from their heaven,
Softly beckoning down the gloom;
Smiling in eternal sweetness

On thy cradle, on thy tomb!

- From the Scandinavian.

HIAWATHA'S CHILDHOOD.

By the shores of Gitchee Gumee,
By the shining Big-Sea-Water,
Stood the wigwam of Nokomis,
Daughter of the Moon, Nokomis.
Dark behind it rose the forest,
Rose the black and gloomy pine-trees,
Rose the firs with cones upon them ;
Bright before it beat the water,
Beat the clear and sunny water,
Beat the shining Big-Sea-Water.

There the wrinkled old Nokomis
Nursed the little Hiawatha,
Rocked him in his linden cradle,
Bedded soft in moss and rushes,

Safely bound with reindeer sinews;

Stilled his fretful wail by saying,

"Hush the Naked Bear will hear thee!"

Lulled him into slumber, singing,

"Ewa-yea! my little owlet!

Who is this that lights the wigwam?
With his great eyes lights the wigwam?
Ewa-yea! my little owlet!"

Many things Nokomis taught him
Of the stars that shine in heaven;
Showed him Ishkoodah, the comet
Ishkoodah, with fiery tresses;

Showed the Death-Dance of the spirits,
Warriors with their plumes and war-clubs,
Flaring far away to northward

In the frosty nights of winter ;

Showed the broad, white road in heaven,

Pathway of the ghosts, the shadows,
Running straight across the heavens,
Crowded with the ghosts, the shadows.