And Jane she wrote a little note,
"Dear cousin," thus wrote she,
"Dear Cousin Ann, I've made a plan
That you should visit me;

For you are one, the Ann unknown
I've always longed to see.

They say that you have eyes deep blue,
And a brow all lily fair,

While round your face with many a grace
Doth curl your golden hair.
Now I, they say, have eyes of gray,

And the puggiest little nose,

A small round chin with a dimple in,

And cheeks as red as a rose.

Let me tell you this that I'm saving a kiss
And a dear good hugging, too,

For the cousin so fair with the golden hair
And the eyes so brightly blue.

So pray, dear Ann, come if you can,
And bring your dolly dear.

My dollies all, both great and small,

Will make her welcome here."

Wrote Ann to Jane; "I'd come to Maine

And play with you, I'm sure;

It would be so good if I only could,

But my papa is too poor.

When his ship gets home he says I may come..

For that will surely bring

All it can hold of silver and gold,

And clothes and everything."

The years flew on, young maidens grown

Were Mary Ann and Jane;

Still dwelt the first in Boston town,

The second down in Maine.

And now Jane wrote a perfumed note,
All in a perfumed cover,

And thus it ran: "Do come, dear Ann,
Do come, and bring your lover;

I've a lover, too, so tender and true,

A gallant youth is he,

On a summer night, when the moon shines bright,

How charming it will be

To pleasantly walk and pleasantly talk

'Way down by the sounding sea."

Wrote Ann to Jane: "That visit to Maine
Must longer yet delay,

My cousin dear, for soon draws near
My happy wedding day."

More years have flown, much older grown

Were Mary Ann and Jane,

Still dwelt the first in Boston town,

The second down in Maine.

And once again took Jane her pen; "Dear cousin," now wrote she,

"Wont you come down from Boston town,
And bring your family?

Bring all your girls with their golden curls
And their eyes so heavenly blue;

Bring all your boys with all their noise,
And bring that husband, too.

I've a pretty band that round me stand,
Six girls, my heart's delight;

They're as lovely a set as ever you met,
And all remarkably bright.

There's a kiss, you know, that since long ago,
I've been keeping for you, my dear,
Or have you forgot the first little note
I scribbled and sent you from here?"
Thus Ann did reply: "Alas, how can I

Set forth on my travels, dear Jane?
I've too many to take, yet none can forsake,
So sadly at home must remain.

If your kiss is there still, pray keep it until
You see me come jaunting that way.

I've a loving kiss, too, that's been saving for you
This many and many a day."

Time onward ran, now Jane and Ann
Were old and feeble grown,-

Life's rapid years, mid smiles and tears,
Had swiftly o'er them flown.

Their locks of gray were stroked away

From the worn and wrinkled brow,
Their forms were bent, their years were spent,
They were widowed women now.

Suddenly one day, one winter's day,

Aunt Ann said, "I must go

And see Cousin Jane, who lives in Maine,

In spite of wind and snow."

"Why, grandma, dear, this time of the year?

Oh, what a foolish thing,

You're far too old to go in the cold,

We pray you wait till spring,

When the skies are clear, and the flowers appear,
And the birds begin to sing."
"Children," said she, "don't hinder me;
When smiling spring comes on,

The flowers may bloom around my tomb,
And I be dead and gone.

I'm old, 'tis true, my days are few,
There lies a reason plain

Against delay, if short my stay,

I must away to Maine,

And let these eyes, these mortal eyes,
Behold my Cousin Jane."

As Aunt Jane sits and quietly knits,
Thinking her childhood o'er,

The latch is stirred, and next is heard
A tapping at the door.

"Come in," she said, and raised her head
To see who might appear;

An aged dame who walked quite lame,
Said, "Cousin, I am here.

I'm here, dear Jane, I've come to Maine
To take that kiss, you know,

The kiss, my dear, kept for me here
Since that long, long ago."

In glad surprise, Aunt Jane replies,

"Why, cousin, can this be you?

But where, oh, where is the golden hair
And the eyes so brightly blue?"

"And where," Ann said, "are your roses fled,
And your chubby cheeks, I pray?
This, I suppose, was the little pug nose,
But the dimples, where are they?

And the lover, too, so tender and true,
Who walked by the light of the moon,

And the little band that round did stand,
Are they gone, all gone, so soon?"

They turned their eyes to the darkening skies
And the desolate scene below,

As they spoke with tears of their childhood years
And the hopes of long ago.

The smiles and tears of buried years

Were smiled and wept again..
Thus met at last, a lifetime past,

The cousins, Ann and Jane,-
One of whom lived in Boston town,
The other down in Maine.

HOW GIRLS STUDY.-BELLE McDonald.

Did you ever see two girls get together to study of an evening? I have, and it generally goes like this:

"In 1673 Marquette discovered the Mississippi. In 1673 Marquette dis- What did you say, Ide? You had ever so much rather see the hair coiled than braided?Yes, so had I. It's so much more stylish, and then it looks classical, too; but how do you like-Oh, dear! I can never learn this lesson.

"In 1863 Lafayette discovered the Wisconsin. In 1863 Lafayette discovered the-well! what's the matter with me, anyhow! In 1673 Marquette discovered the Mississippi. I don't care if he did. I suppose the Mississippi would have gotten along just as well if Marquette had never had looked at it. Now, see here, Ide, is there anything about my looks that would give you to understand that I know when Columbus founded Jamestown, and how George Washington won the battle of Shiloh? Of course there isn't. History's a horrid study anyhow. No use, neither. Now, French is much nicer. I can introduce French phrases very often, and one must know I have studied the language. What is the lesson for tomorrow? Oh, yes; conjugation of parler. Let's see; how does it commence? Je parle, tu parle, il par-il pa-il-well, il then!

"Conjugations don't amount to anything. I know some phrases that are appropriate here and there, and in almost every locality; and how's anybody going to know but what I have the conjugations all by heart?

"Have I got my geometry? No, I'm just going to study it. Thirty-ninth, is it not?

"Let the triangle A B C, triangle A B-say, Ide, have you read about the Jersey Lily and Freddie? I think it is too utterly utter. Oh! theorem.

"Let the triangle A B C be right-angled at B. On the side B C, erect, erect the square A I. On the side -did I tell you Sister Caracciola gave me a new piece to-day, a sonata? It is really intense. The tones fairly stir my soul. I am never going to take anything but sonatas after this. I got another new piece, too. Its name is Etudes. Isn't it funny? I asked Tom this noon what it means, and he says it is Greek for nothing. It is quite apropos, for there is really nothing in it,-the same thing over and over.

"Where was I? Oh! yes; side A C the square A E. Draw the line-come on, let's go at our astronomy. It's on, 'Are the planets inhabited?' Now, Ide, I think they are, and I have thought about it a great deal. I banged my hair last night. I wanted a Langtry bang just too bad for any use, but pa raved, and I had to give in. Yes, I think they are inhabited. I should like to visit some of them, but you would not catch me living in Venus. Eight seasons! Just think how often we would have to have new outfits to keep up with the styles.

"What! you are not going? I am so sorry, but I I am. suppose you are tired. It always makes me most sick to study a whole evening like this. I think Sister

ought to give us a picture."

And they go to school next morning and tell the other girls how awfully hard they have studied.

GOD'S COUNTRY.-O. C. AURINGER.

Dost thou not know God's country, where it lies?
That land long dreamed of, more desired than gold,.
Which noble souls, by dauntless hope made bold,
Have searched the future for with longing eyes?