other men that had perished there before. So the lad would not so much as rest by the road-side, but held on his way.

By and by the night came on, and the lad wrapped himself up and lay down by the road-side to sleep. And a long and sound sleep he had. He awoke in the sunny morning with the sound of a voice singing sweet and clear as silver, and where should he find himself, but close by the golden gates of a beautiful palace; and when he looked where the voice came from, there, to be sure, was the loveliest young princess that the sun ever shone upon; and the lad had no sooner cast his eyes on her than he fell over head and ears in love, and would have given all the world, if he had had it, only to kiss her. hand. And while he was yet looking at her, out of the palace and down the golden steps came the veiled figure that had come to him at the shedding of the road, and had said, 66 Whither away ?" And it said to him, "Since you have kept by the way that is right, and have not been turned aside either by jeering, or pleasure, or hopes of gain, I shall give you now whatever thing you ask." "Oh," said the lad, "give me that beautiful princess for my wife."

Then the figure drew off its veil, and who was there -do you think?-but the king himself! And the king took the lad by the hand: "Since you kept by the right way," said he, "I shall give you the princess and half the kingdom."

And the king was as good as his word, for the lad got the beautiful princess and half the kingdom, too.

First Super.

"SUPERS."-H. CHANCE NEWTON.

Behold in us three parties known as "Supers,"

Who "enter" nightly when we get our "cue," Attired as gensdarmes, bandits, mob, and troopers. Omnes (vociferously).—We do!

Second Super.

We're ragged, we'll admit, but still we're clever,
And though Melpomene adopts an air

Of diffidence, shall we desert her? Never!
Omnes (melodramatically).—We swear!

Third Super.

Although our aspirations it disables

To be disdained by every noted "star," We're there at hand to bring on chairs and tables. Omnes (proudly).—We are!

F. S.-Observe how soldierly each bears his banner, And shivers when the heavy man says "Bah!" Or laughs, at certain cues, in stagey manner.

Omnes (hollowly).—Ha! ha!

S. S. And when to "Treasury" we wander meekly
To see if there's a “ghost,”—our "sal" is small,
'Tis but six shillings we are tendered weekly.
Omnes (dismally).-That's all!

T. S.-It matters not how carefully we spend it,
A bob a night will scarcely buy a crust.
Friends, must we not do something to amend it?
Omnes (mysteriously).-We must!

F. S.-Shall we submit to managers' oppression?

Nay, let us rise and strike a mighty blow!
Shall we be trampled on in our profession?

Omnes (emphatically).—No! no!

S. S.-The Super-master we must be defying,

And make our grievance clearly understood. Would not a small revolt be worth the trying? Omnes (eagerly).—It would!

T. S.-Aye, let them jeer and gibe at our position,
The time will come when we'll earn better pay;
By striking we may better our position.
Omnes (excitedly).—Hooray!

F. S.-Hold! let us not give way to idle sorrow,
But, rather, let's be resolute and brave;
We've got a "call" at twelve o'clock to-morrow;

Omnes (dolefully).—We haive!

S. S.-To soothe us, since our "bosses" on us trample, A pub's close by where we may eat our fill. Say, shall we hasten and a fish ball sample? Omnes (with alacrity).-We will!

AIR CASTLES.-CLARA H. BRADNER.

A girl is standing with careless feet

At the point where the brook and the river meet;
In her eyes there gleams a lambent fire
As the castle she's building towers higher.
"I will earn," says she to herself, “a name
That will make the world acknowledge its fame;
On my head shall be placed the laurel crown
That the Muses wreathe for their favored own;
I will visit the lands of story and song;
In the palace of Genius I'll tarry long.
There will come to me a lover as bold
And as strong as the fabled princes of old;
And in his brave heart the first I'll be,
For true beauty and grace in me he'll see.
Thus smooth shall I weave my web of life
With love to untangle its cares and strife.”

In a vine-wreathed casement stands a bride;
Her brown eyes shine with loving pride
As afar she sees the manly form

Of the one whose heart for her beats warm.
And she dreams a dream as she waits him there
Which more than a poem, is even a prayer;
And the angel Sandalphon wafts it on
Till it reaches up to the great white throne.
"I care not for princes of olden story,
Nor for palaces grand nor for fame or glory;
But give me a cot with its vine-clad door
And the glinting sunshine warm on the floor,
With the dear ones' voices when day is done
And its duties are ended one by one.

All these will be dearer by far to me

Than the castles I dreamed of once could be.
And may a crown come to me unsought
That by love's labors shall be wrought.
This sphere in life is the one I would fill,-
A faithful wife through good and ill."

A mother is sitting with busy hand

At the door where the bride's fair face was fanned By the long ago breezes that came through the vine Which had clambered there, and doth still entwine

The door, where now children with busy feet
Pass in and out: and their voices sweet
Ring loud and clear on the evening air
To greet the mother who toileth there.
The work drops out of her hands so worn,
And a far-away look in her eyes is born,

While her thoughts go back to the time passed by
When her girlhood's castles loomed so high.
With a sigh she says to herself, “For me

No crown awaits from the laurel tree,

But in my children my life I live,

And 'tis sweeter far than fame could give."

Her eyes grow bright again with joy

As she dreams of a crown for her darling boy.

And she murmurs, "Ah, me! 'tis better so,

That the web of my life such a pattern should grow."

The grandam sits in her easy chair

With the sunlight soft on her silver hair,
And thus she speaks to the bonny throng

Of maidens fair, and youths so strong,

Who have gathered about her to heed the thought
Of wisdom that comes to a long life fraught

With happy faith, and with loving deeds
For each whose path such comfort needs.

"In the days of our youth our dreams are bright,
For life is filled with spring-time light,

And we build gay castles with towers grand,
With self as the monarch to rule the land.
But, my children dear, our lives grow on,
And the castles fade out of them one by one.
But if we obey the commandment golden,
That is told us in language sweet and olden,
Their places will fill with thoughts like beams
From the sun, and we'll know our castles were dreams.
And our lives will grow wider and still more wide,
Till we reach our home on the 'other side.'"

The sweet voice stops and the dim eyes close,
To the tired mind comes a dream of repose;
'Tis a dream of heaven so clear and bright
That the earth life is filled with its glorious light;
And it brings the sweet call of "Peace, well done,"
To the life whose web for self was begun,
But whose pattern changed as the years rolled on,
And was woven for others at set of sun.

A SOLDIER'S OFFERING.-GEORGE M. VICKERS.

The laurel wreath of glory

That decks the soldier's grave,
Is but the finished story,-
The record of the brave;
And he who dared the danger,
Who battled well and true,
To honor was no stranger,

Though garbed in gray or blue.
Go, strip your choicest bowers,
Where blossoms sweet abound,
Then scatter free your flowers
Upon each moss-grown mound.
Though shaded by the North's tall pine
Or South's palmetto tree,

Let sprays that soldiers' graves entwine,
A soldier's tribute be.

ERE THE SUN WENT DOWN.-GEORGE WEATHERLY

Mad?

Oh, no, not mad!

Only sad

With a lifetime's grief

Wrought in a day!

No hope, no ray
Of glad relief

To break the gloom,
Save in the tomb!

Bad words, you say,
While yet are given
Young life and health
And hope of heaven.
Yes! yes! you're right;
There is my wealth,
My guiding light,-
The hope of heaven;
For 'tis my all,
My very all!

Hark! hark! be still!

Did you hear a call?