BLUEBEARD.-J. G. HOLLAND. Centuries since there flourished a man,— With gardens and groves and plantations; Just on the opposite side of the plain So he sent them an invitation to tea, As silks and jewels could make them; The ladies were all enchanted quite, With feasting and with laughter. As kind a husband as ever was seen And as happy as she could be, too; But her husband called her to him one day, "The keys of my castle I leave with you; And forbear to enter the Chamber of Blue! Well, the woman was curiously inclined, She paused at the door;-all was still as night! The room was gloomy and damp and wide, The wives of her lord and master! From the scene of the disaster. She tried to forget the terrible dead, But shrieked when she saw that the key was red And sickened and shook with an awful dread When she heard Bluebeard was coming. He did not appear to notice her pain; "Mighty well, madam!" said he,-" mighty well! What does this little blood-stain tell? You've broken your promise; prepare to dwell 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 mercy, I implore you!" "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 entreated. "Only ten minutes,” he roared again; And, holding his watch by its great gold chain, And retired till they were completed. "Sister, O sister, fly up to the tower! 66 No; I see nothing but sheep on the hill." "Look again, sister!" "I'm looking still, But naught can I see whether good or ill, Save a flurry 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!" "Time's fully up! Now have done with your prayer But a loud knock rang at the castle gate, They were her brothers, and, quick as they knew With a wild remorse was his conscience filled When he thought of the hapless wives he had killed; But quickly the last of his blood was spilled, And his dying groan was sounded. "Twas a private funeral Bluebeard had; And, though they said nothing, they all were glad But Fatima first ordered some graves to be made, Then she cheered the hearts of the suffering poor, And a cow, and a couple of sheep, or more, To her tenantry she granted. So all of them had enough to eat, And their love for her was so complete They would kiss the dust from her little feet, 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, which 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 they 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 would send them danc ing around. I was but a child, and the shadows made me afraid. I wished the old man would lift his 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 a 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, And wasn't a looking at all at he. He seemed to think she was looking at him, 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; He laughed till you'd thought he was ready to cry, 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 string, |