'Twas an April day, in the balmy spring, The farmhouse fires had gone to sleep, The windows were open to sun and breeze, The hills were dotted with snowy sheep. The great elms rustled their new-lifed leaves Softly over the old brown roof, And the sunshine, red with savory smoke, Fell graciously through their emerald woof. Sounds—spring sounds—which the country yields: Voices of laborers, lowing of herds, The caw of the crow, the swollen brook's roar, The sportsman's gun, and the twitter of birds, Melted like dim dreams into the air; 'Twas the azure shadow of summer, Which fell so sweetly on plain and wood, And brought new gladness to eye and ear. But a face looks out to the purple hills, A wasted face that is full of woe, Wan yet calm, like a summer moon That has lost the round of its fullest glow. The smooth brown braids still wreathe her head; Her simple garments are full of grace, As if, with color and taste, she fain Would ward off eyes from her paling face. 'Tis a morning hour, but the work is done; The house so peacefully bright within, And the wild-wood leaves on the mantel-shelf Tell how busy her feet have been. She sits by the window and watches a cloud Fading away in the hazy sky; And 'Like that cloud,' she says in heart, 'When summer is over, I too shall die.' The door-yard gate swings to with a clang, She must not sadden her father so; She springs to her feet with a merrier air, And pinches her face to make it glow. But ah! no need; for a ruddier red Than pinches can bring floods brow and cheek; She stands transfixed by a mighty joy; For millions of worlds she can not speak. Frank Wilson gathers her close to his heart, With brightening glance, he reads that glow, And draws from the wells of her joy-lit eyes The secret he long has yearned to know. 'Frank Wilson! living and strong and well; Were you not killed by the rebels? say!' 'Thank God! I was not. 'Twas another man— There were two Frank Wilsons in Company K.' The one church-bell in the distant town Chimes softly forth for twelve o'clock; Another clang of the door-yard gate, A sudden hush in the tender talk. She flies to meet him—the transformed child!— Her heart keeps time to her ringing tread; 'O father! he's come!' and she needs no more To pinch her cheeks to make them red.

Marie Mignonette.

A friend who doth such things has kindly jotted down for us the following 'authentics':

Sometimes I have thought that the reply our Irish girl gave the other day, was of the nature of her usual blunders, and again that it meant a good deal. On her return from a funeral, where a man, who had previously lost his wife, had buried his only child, an infant a few weeks old, I asked her how the father appeared?

'Oh! he was a dale sorry; but I guess he's glad to get rid of it!'

It was only a way he had.—Whiggles, on being told that a boy down-town, only sixteen years old, weighed six hundred and fifty pounds, was further enlightened by the information that he weighed that amount of coal on a platform Fairbanks.

The Southern press has proposed that, even in case of defeat, the wealthy class shall retire to their plantations, 'live comfortably' on what they can raise, let cotton go for two years, and thereby starve Europe and the North into a conviction that Cotton is King.

But how will the poor whites of the South like this? What is to become of them? Or what, indeed, is to become of us, if no cotton be forthcoming? The truth is, and every day makes it more apparent, the raising of cotton must pass into other hands. The army has its rights—the right to land-grants—and the only effectual means of putting an end to our dependence on the South will be found in settling soldiers in the cotton country. Texas would be, perhaps, best suited for the purpose, and other regions may be selected as opportunity may suggest. With this course fully determined on, it would hardly be necessary to further agitate Emancipation, it would come of itself, and slave-labor would yield to the energy of the free Northern farmer.

Very little has been said as yet on this subject of properly rewarding our troops. But it is destined to rise into becoming the great question of the day; and if the Democratic pro-slavery party sets itself in opposition to it, it will be ground to powder. Events are tending to this issue with irresistible and tremendous power, and the days of planterdom are numbered.

1

This anecdote has frequently gone the rounds in an abbreviated form. It may interest the reader to see it in authentic detail.

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2

Richmond Examiner.

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3

To which we add, 'An Account of the Proceedings preliminary to the Organization of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, with a List of the Members thus far associated, and an Appendix, containing Petitions and Resolutions in aid of the objects of the Committee of Associated Institutions of Science and Art. Boston, 1861.' Also the Objects and Courses of Instruction in the Lawrence Scientific School. In the 'Catalogue of the Officers and Students of Harvard University, for the Academical Year 1860-1861.' The Editor will hold himself greatly indebted to any one who will kindly forward him catalogues or prospectuses relative to any scientific schools or institutes whatever, either in this country or Europe.

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