“We didn't want to frighten him," said one in a half whisper.

“You know how long we lay at quarantine ?"

“The ship I came in did that,” said Connor. “Did ye say Nora went ashore ? Ought I to be looking for her, captain?"

Many died; many children,” went on the captain. “When we were half way here your boy was taken sick.”

“Jamesy,” gasped Connor.

“His mother watched him night and day,” said the captain, “and we did all we could, but at last he died; only one of many. There were five buried that day. But it broke my heart to see the mother looking out upon the water. 'It's his father I think of,' said she, 'he's longing to see poor Jamesy.'”

Connor groaned.

“Keep up if you can, my man,” said the captain. “I wish any one else had it to tell rather than I. That night Nora was taken ill also; she grew worse fast. In the morning she called me to her. 'Tell Connor I died thinking of him,' she said, 'and tell him to meet me.' And my man, God help you, she never said anything more,-in an hour she was gone."

Connor had risen. He stood up, trying to steady himself, looking at the captain with his eyes dry as two stones. Then he turned to his friends:

"I've got my death, boys,” he said, and then dropped to the deck like a log.

They raised him and bore him away. In an hour he was at home on the little bed which had been made ready for Nora, weary with her long voyage. There at last, he opened his eyes. Old Mr. Bawne bent over him; he had been summoned by the news, and the room was full of Connor's fellow-workmen.

“Better, Connor ?" asked the old man. “A dale,” said Connor. “It's aisy now; I'll be with her

And look ye, masther, I've learnt one thing, -God is good; He wouldn't let me bring Nora over to me, but He's takin' me over to her and Jamesy, over the river; don't you see it, and her standin' on the other side to welcome me?"

And with these words Connor stretched out his arms,perhaps he did see Nora-Heaven only knows, -and so died.

soon.

WIDOW MALONE.-CHARLES LEVER.

Did you hear of the Widow Malone,

Ohone! Who lived in the town of Athlone,

Alone! Oh, she melted the hearts

Of the swains in them parts: So lovely the Widuw Malone,

Ohone! So lovely the Widow Malone. Of lovers she had a full score,

Or more, And fortunes they all had galore,

In store;
From minister down

To the clerk of the Crown
All were courting the Widow Malono,

Ohone!
All were courting the Widow Malono.
But so modest was Mistress Malone,

'Twas known That no one could see her alone,

Ohone! Let them ogle and sigh,

They could ne'er catch her eye,
So bashful the Widow Malone,

Ohone!
So bashful the Widow Malone.
Till one Misther O'Brien, from Clare,

(How quare! It's little for blushing they care

Down there.) Put his arm round her waist,

Gave ten kisses at laste, “Oh,” says he, “ you're my Molly Malono,

My own! Oh,” says he,“ you're my Molly Malone 150 And the widow thcv all thought so shy,

My eye! Ne'er thought of a simper or sigh,

For why? But, “Lucius,” says she, "Since you've now made so free,

You may marry your Mary Malone,

Ohone!
You may marry your Mary Malone."
There's a moral contained in my song,

Not wrong;
And one comfort, it's not very long,

But strong,
If for widows you die,

Learn to kiss, not to sigh;
For they're all like sweet Mistress Malono,

Ohone!
Oh, they're all like sweet Mistress Malone!

BALLAD OF THE TEMPEST.-J.wes T. Fields.

a

We were crowded in the cabin,

Not a soul would dare to sleep.
It was midnight on the waters

And a storm was on the deep.
'Tis a fearful thing in winter

To be shattered by the blast,
And to hear the rattling trumpet

Thunder, “Cut away the mast !"
So we shuddered there in silence,

For the stoutest held his breath,
While the hungry sea was roaring,

And the breakers talked with Death.
As thus we sat in darkness,

Each one busy in his prayers,
“We are lost!" the captain shouted

As he staggered down the stairs.
But his little daughter whispered,

As she took his icy hand,
Isn't God upon the ocean

Just the same as on the land ?"
Then we kissed the little maiden,

And we spoke in better cheer,
And we anchored safe in harbor

When the morn was shining clesiae

66

THE ENGINEER'S MURDER.-HENRY MORFORD.

Yes, I once committed a murder,

Outside the realms of law, That I s'pose the body of people

Would not heed the worth of a straw; But I think I should sleep the sounder,

Sometimes, when the night winds wail,
If I never remembered “ murder,"

Or never told over the tale.
No matter the road I was running,

'Twas in one of the Middle States; So many years since, that I wonder

Why the sorrow never abates.
I was young, and hasty, and savage,

As youth is apt to be,
And my hand,-well, my hand, you will fancy

Was a trifle too ready and free.
I was in my caboose just at evening,

Say 'tween Holden and Fiddler's Run,
Making time, to reach Wayman's Siding

For the up-train, at five twenty-one; I had had a hot box at Grossman's,

And that put me four minutes behind; So I felt like,-the word is ugly,

But the truth !-like “going it blind." Round a curve, and running, -say forty,

Or it may have been fifty, who knows, And there on the track before me,

A black fiend, at full scream, arose! A dog, that sat down in the middle,

Between the two lines of rail, And howled, like a fiend incarnate,

With a mixture of bark, yell, and wait Did I stop? Not much! I just opened

The throttle-valve, by a mite, And over that dog she went flying,

And over something else,-white! I stopped her then with a shudder,

And ran back; in a mangled heap Lay the dog, and what had been lately

A balıy-girl laying asleep!

a

Have I never got over it? No, sir!

And I never shall till I die!
Why didn't I heed the warning ?

It was only a black dog's cry.
I may have done many more murders,

And 'tis likely I have on the whole;
But there's none, when the night winds are howling,

That lay such a weight on my soul ! And what is the worst of my sorrow,

Don't make the one grand mistake! I shouldn't grieve twice, I've a fancy,

For the poor dead baby's sake! But the dog that was doing his duty

So nobly,-I grieve for him; sad I never tell over the story

But I find my old eyes grow dim.

ROLL ON.

Roll on, thou Sun, forever roll,

Thou giant, rushing through the heaven! Creation's wonder, nature's soul,

Thy golden wheels by angels driven! The planets die without thy blaze,

And cherubim, with star-dropt wing, Float in thy diamond-sparkling rays,

Thou brightest emblem of their king! Roll, lovely Earth, and still roll on,

With ocean's azure beauty bound; While one sweet star, the pearly moon,

Pursues thee through the blue profound; And angels, with delighted eyes,

Behold thy tints of mount and stream, From the high walls of paradise,

Swift wheeling like a glorious dream.
Roll, Planets! on your dazzling road,

Forever sweeping round the sun!
What eye beheld when first ve glowed?

What eye shall see your courses done?
Roll in your solemn majesty,

Ye deathless splendors of the skies!