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BLUEBEARD.-J. G. HOLLAND.
Conturies since there flourished a man,-
With gardens and groves and plantations ; But his shaggy beard was as blue as the sky, And he lived alone, for his neighbors were shy, And had heard hard stories, by the by,
About his domestic relations.
Was a beautiful little treasure;
Said they'd do themselves the pleasure.
As silks and jewels could make them;
Where he was so kind as to take them.
And frequently called thereafter;
With feasting and with laughter.
And as happy as she could be, too;
There is business for me to see to.
"The keys of my castle I leave with you;
Farewell, Fatima! Remember!"
To think about the Blue Chamber.
The mystery forbidden.
That was in that chamber hidden.
The wives of her lord and master!
From the scene of the disaster.
When she heard Bluebeard was coming.
That he had been quietly humming.
With the wives I've had before you! You've broken your promise, and you shall die." Then Fatima, supposing her death was nigh, Fell on her knees and began to cry, Have meriy, I implore you!"
I "No!” shouted Bluebeard, drawing his sword; * You shall die this very moment,” he roared.
*Grant me time to prepare to meet my Lord,”
The terrified woman enireated.
And retired till they were completed.
Speak! Does there come assistance ?"
Save a furry of dust in the distance. “Time's up!" shouted Bluebeard, out from his room; “This moment shall witness your terrible doom, And give you a dwelling within the room
Whose secrets you have invaded.” “Comes there no help for my terrible need ?" “There are horsemen twain riding hither with speed." “Oh, tell them to ride very fast indeed,
Or I must meet death unaided !"
Swung his glittering weapon around him;
And then the two soldiers found him.
So that soon he was mortally wounded.
And his dying groan was sounded.
For the fall of the evil-doer;
But Fatima first ordered some graves to be made,
Of her friends, her spirits came to her.
To her tenantry she granted.
Or do anything she wanted.
IN THE CHIMNEY CORNER.-CHARLES B. LEWIS.
I sat and watched him as he softly rocked to and fro. It was an old-fashioned fire-place, and he was rocking in an old-fashioned splint-bottomed chair, wbich was likewise a veteran in years.
There was something so good, so kind and tender in his face that I could not turn my eyes away. His hair was white as snow, his eyes weak, and the hand resting on the arm of the chair trembled with the helplessness of age.
The logs burned brightly on the andirons, and as the old man sat and gazed into the flame, he must have compared his life to it. It rose and fell, wavered and struggled to climb up, fell back and rose again, just as men struggle against fate. There were charred brands to remind him of crushed hopes--ashes to make him remember his dead. I saw his face brighten at times, and then again it was covered with a shade of sadness, and the hand shook a little faster as he remembered the graves on the hill-side and those who had slept in them for so many long years.
By and by the flames fell, and the old room was filled with shadows, which ran over the floor, climbed the walls and raced along the ceiling. Sometime tbey covered the old man's face, but leaped away again, as if fearing rebuke. Sometimes they drew together in a corner and whispered to each other, and the fall of an ember vould send them danc. ing around.
I was but a child, and the shadows made me afraid. I wished the old man would lift nis eyes and speak to me,
telling me his life's story, but he kept his gaze on the burning logs as if they were a magnet to draw him closer and closer. I watched the shadows until I fell asleep. Strange, sweet music came to my ears, and the shadows were replaced by u golden light and a sky so blue and pure that I tried to reach up and grasp it. Soft voices chanted in harmony with the music, and by and by I saw an angel leading an old man and helping him over the rugged path which stretched out before me until it touched the golden gates of heaven. They went on and on, and when they were lost to view I suddenly awoke.
The fire had burned still lower, and there were more shadows in the room; the old man sat there yet, but the chair no longer moved, and his hand had ceased to tremble. I crept softly over to him and laid my hand on his. It was cold. I shook him gently, but he did not answer.
The old man was dead! While I slept the shadows had brought an angel to lead him into heaven.
THE CROSS-EYED LOVERS.--John H. JOHNSTON. Two cross-eyed lovers in a horse-car sat, Thinking they were looking each other at, But she looked at me as plain as could be, And wasn't a looking at all at he. He seemed to think she was looking at him, And she seemed to think he was looking at her; But the glassy look of her eyeball dim Shied over to me, while the conduct-or Thought he was the object of her attention, And was about the name of the street to mention; But when he saw the crook in her eye, He laughed till you'd thought he was ready to cry, And going forward to collect a fare, He turned around and saw the same stare In the eye of her lover then and there. With the sight of two lovers with both eyes crossed, He seemed for a moment dazed and lost, And he gave his bell a double ring, And in his excitement pulled the stringe