Though sometimes he would lift up
Those great dark Eastern eyes,

Appealing, when we wronged him much,
For pity? No! but full of such

A questioning surprise.

Just like a beast of the forest

Caught in the garden's bound,—

Hemmed in by cruel creatures tame
That seem akin, almost the same,
Yet how unlike are found!

He did his boyish duty
In play-ground as in school;

A little put upon, and meek,

Though no one ever called him "sneak" Or "coward," still less "fool."

But yet I never knew him,

Not rightly, I may say,—

Till one day, sauntering round our square, I saw the little Jew boy there,

Slow lingering after play.

He looked so tired and hungry,

So dull and weary both,

"Hollo!" cried I, "you ate no lunch.

Come, here's an apple; have a munch!

Hey, take it! don't be loath."

He gazed upon the apple,

So large and round and red,

Then glanced up towards the western sky,

The sun was setting gloriously,

But not a word he said.

He gazed upon the apple,

Eager as Mother Eve;

Half held his hand out, drew it back; Dim drew his eyes, so big and black; His breast began to heave.

"I am so very hungry!

And yet-No, thank you.

No.

"Good-by." "You little dolt," said I,

"Just take your apple. There, don't cry! Home with you! Off you go!"

But still the poor lad lingered,
And pointed to the sky;

"The sunset is not very late;
I'm not so hungry-I can wait.
Thank you. Good-by,-good-by!”.

And then I caught and held him

Against the palisade;

Pinched him and pommelled him right well,

And forced him all the truth to tell,

Exactly as I bade.

It was their solemn fast-day,

When every honest Jew

From sunset unto sunset kept

The fast. I mocked; he only wept: "What father does, I do."

I taunted him and jeered him,—

The more brute I, I feel.

I held the apple to his nose;

He gave me neither words nor blows,Firm, silent, true as steel.

I threw the apple at him;

He stood one minute there,

Then, swift as hunted deer at bay,

He left the apple where it lay,

And vanished round the square.

I went and told my father,

A minister, you see;

I thought that he would laugh outright,
At the poor silly Israelite;

But very grave looked he.

Then said, "My bold young Christian,
Of Christian parents born,

IN

Would God that you may ever be
As faithful unto Him-and me-
As he you hold in scorn!"

I felt my face burn hotly,
My stupid laughter ceased;
For father is a right good man,
And still I please him all I can,
As parent and as priest.

Next day, when school was over,
I put my nonsense by;

Begged the lad's pardon, stopped all strife,
And-well, we have been friends for life,
The little Jew and I.

DINAH MARIA MULOCK CRAIK.

Only a Jew

the land of Brittany, and long ago,
Lived one of those

Despised and desolate, whose records show

Insults and blows,

Their old inheritance of wrong, who were
Free once as the eyelids of the morn; nor care
Knew, nor annoy,

In that city of joy,

Heaven-chosen child, whom none to harm might dare;

Lived one who did as if his God stood near
Watching his deed,

Slow to give answer, ever swift to hear;
Whose brain would breed,

Walking alone or watching through the night,
No idle thought; but he with ill would fight
And day by day

Would wax alway

Wiser and better and nearer to the light.

And in this land a mother lost her child,
And charged the Jew

With crucifying him, who calmly smiled
Denial. "You

Have slain," quoth she, "to keep your Passover
My son with sorceries." He answered her,

"Your wit must fail;

An idle tale

Is this; what proof thereof can you prefer?"

But she went from him raging. Then he fled
Out of that land;

And those there set a price on his gray head,
Who with skilled hand

Of craft had fed one daughter fair as day,
Now destitute. Soon gold before her lay
The bait of shame;

But she, aflame

With honor, flung such happiness away.

And writing, told her father, who came back
By night, and bade

Her claim his life's reward. "Rather the rack
Rend me," she said;

"And shall I give him death who life gave me?
Sell him and feed on him? Far sooner we
Both died! Somewhere

Beyond earth's care

Hereafter we shall meet it well may be

Somewhere hereafter." "Nay, you still shall live,"
He murmured; then,

Went out into the market, crying, “Give
This price, ye men,

For me to her, my daughter." But these laid
False hands on both, nor other duty paid

Than death; for they,

Gold hair and gray,

Were slain hard by in the holy minster's shade.

After, in no long time, the little child
Returned, a stray

Fresh from the sea: it by a ship beguiled,
In the hold at play,

Had sailed unseen till the land a small speck grew,
But still the people prayed in the porch, in view
Of the blood-splashed stone,

And made no moan;

""Twas only a Jew," the folk said, "only a Jew!"

Holy Cross Day

ANONYMOUS.

ON WHICH THE JEWS WERE FORCED TO ATTEND AN ANNUAL CHRISTIAN SERMON IN ROME

("Now was come about Holy-Cross Day, and now must my lord preach his first sermon to the Jews; as it was of old cared for in the merciful bowels of the Church, that, so to speak, a crumb at least from her conspicuous table here in Rome should be, though but once yearly, cast to the famishing dogs, under-trampled and bespitten upon beneath the feet of the guests. And a moving sight in truth, this, of so many of the besotted blind restif and ready-to-perish Hebrews! Now maternally brought-nay, (for He saith, 'Compel them to come in') haled, as it were, by the head and hair, and against their obstinate hearts, to partake of the heavenly grace. What awakening, what striving with tears, what working of a yeasty conscience! Nor was my lord wanting to himself on so apt an occasion; witness the abundance of conversions which did incontinently reward him: though not to my lord be altogether the glory."-Diary by the Bishop's Secretary, 1600.)

What the Jews really said, on thus being driven to church, was rather to this effect: