CLARIBEL'S PRAYER.

THE day, with cold, gray feet, clung shivering to the hills,
While o'er the valley still night's rain-fringed curtains fell
But waking Blue Eyes smiled, "Tis ever as God wills;
He knoweth best; and be it rain or shine, 'tis well.
Praise God!” cried always little Claribel.

Then sank she on her knees, with eager, lifted hands;
Her rosy lips made haste some dear request to tell :
"O Father, smile, and save this fairest of all lands,
And make her free, whatever hearts rebel.

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Amen!

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Praise God!" cried little Claribel.

"And, Father," still arose another pleading prayer,
Oh, save my brother, in the rain of shot and shell.
Let not the death-bolt, with its horrid, streaming hair,
Dash light from those sweet eyes I love so well.

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But, Father, grant that when the glorious fight is done,
And up the crimson sky the shouts of Freedom swell,
Grant that there be no nobler victor 'neath the sun
Than he whose golden hair I love so well.
Amen! Praise God!" cried little Claribel.

When gray and dreary day shook hands with grayer night, The heavy air was thrilled with clangor of a bell. "Oh, shout!" the herald cried, his worn eyes brimmed with light; ""Tis victory! Oh, what glorious news to tell! "

66 Praise God! He heard my prayer," cried Claribel.

"But, pray you, soldier, was my brother in the fight?
And in the fiery rain? Oh, fought he brave and well?"
"Dear child," the herald cried, "there was no braver sight
Than his young form, so grand 'mid shot and shell."
Praise God!” cried trembling little Claribel.

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"And rides he now with victor's plumes of red,

While trumpets' golden throats his coming steps .oretell ?" The herald dropped a tear. "Dear child," he softly said,

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Thy brother evermore with conquerors shall dwell.” "Praise God! He heard my prayer," cried Claribel.

"With victors wearing crowns, and bearing palms," he said. A snow of sudden fear upon the rose-lips fell.

"Oh, sweetest herald, say my brother lives," she plead.

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Dear child, he walks with angels, who in strength excel. Praise God, who gave this glory, Claribel."

The cold, gray day died sobbing on the weary hills, While bitter mourning on the night-wind rose and fell. "Oh, child," the herald wept, "'tis as the dear Lord wills: He knoweth best, and, be it life or death, 'tis well." "Amen! Praise God!" sobbed little Claribel.

-

LYNDE PALMER.

THE MARRIAGE OF SANTA CLAUS.

ONCE Santa Claus sobered and said with a sigh,
While a tear added lustre to each twinkling eye,
"Oh! I'm getting so lonely and weary of life,
I need a companion, or, better, a wife;
But where could I find one to share my joy,
And love, as I love, every girl and each boy."
He thought and he pondered, this jolly recluse,

Then he shouted, "I have it; 'tis Old Mother Goose."
He was off in a jiffy, he whistled, his sled

O'er the snow like the flight of a sky-rocket sped,
And his reindeer snorted, with heads high and haughty,
And trotted along at the rate of two-forty.

So he found the old lady, of course, very soon
She had just returned from a trip to the moon,
And was fixing her cap, slightly mussed by the ride,
While the cobwebs were thick in the broom by her side.
She was old, she was weazened, she had a great nose,
Yet her eyes were as bright as the plumage of crows,
And her voice, tho' 'twas cracked, had a ring very sweet,
And her dress, tho' 'twas queer, was most awfully neat.
And Santa Claus blushed as he said, "How d'
ye do?"
The dame courtesied low, and replied, " Sir, to you."
"Will you have me?" he prays;
my darling, confess."
She hesitates, murmurs, and then whispers," Yes.
But my children!" she cries, with the usual pause.
"Why, children, I love 'em," said bluff Santa Claus.

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'Bring 'em out where are they? I want 'em! cries he, So forth troop they all in a great company.

First comes a fair maiden, and know her we should
By the wolf and her granny

'tis Red Riding-hood;

While after them, fearfully blowing his horn,

Is Little Boy Blue on his way from the corn;
And the notes of the music he sweetly doth play
Brings the piper's son Tom from the hills far away.
And then with a jump and a roll down the hill
With pails and with water bounce poor Jack and Jill.
Their crowns were both broken, and help they implore
From Old Mother Hubbard and Margery Daw,
As well as a nameless man, tattered and torn,
Who is kissing and kissing a maiden forlorn.
And forth from her garden, in a way quite contrary,
With fruits and with flowers, comes sweet Mistress Mary;
Then Simon the simple returns from the fair,

With the pie-man, most cautious in selling his ware;
While dragging their tails behind flock in the sheep
Of the wandering shepherdess Little Bo Peep.
A very old woman lugs up a great shoe,
And out jump her children, a boisterous crew;
Some sing and some dance, and some of them play
"The Mulberry Bush" and "Rain, rain go away."
But one little boy slinks off in the corner

And munches a pie - 'tis greedy Jack Horner;
While poor Tommy Tucker expects some in vain,
And bewails his fate with Tom Grace, who's in pain.
But music has charms, and they list to the song
Of that jolly musician the young Richard Long.
Then Old King Cole and his fiddlers three

Bring up the rear of this vast company;

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They are just what I want," shouts old Santa Claus ; Mother Goose and her children ring out their applause. "Now all jump aboard - our new home we'll explore; On my sled there has ever been 'room for one more.'" With shouts and with laughter they tumbled within, And wrapped buffalo robes close beneath every chin; The reindeer they galloped, the moon shone out bright As they hurried along in its soft silver light; And the fat, jolly driver chuckled often in glee At the sight of his wife and his vast family.

And the songs of the children rang out in the air
As they journeyed along, disregarding all care,
Till they reached the great palace and thro' it to roam,
And forever be happy within their new home.

A SIMILAR CASE.

JACK, I hear you've gone and done it.
Yes, I know; most fellows will;
Went and tried it once myself, sir,
Though, you see, I'm single still.
And you met her- did you tell me?
Down at Newport, last July,

And resolved to ask the question
At a soiree? So did I.

I suppose you left the ball-room
With its music and its light;
For they say love's flame is brightest
In the darkness of the night.

Well, you walked along together,
Overhead the starlit sky,

And I'll bet - old man confess it.
You were frightened. So was I.

So you strolled along the terrace,
Saw the summer moonlight pour
All its radiance on the waters
As they rippled on the shore;

Till at length you gathered courage,
When you saw that none were nigh, —
Did you draw her close and tell her
That you loved her? So did I.

Well, I needn't ask you further,
And I'm sure I wish you joy;
Think I'll wander down and see you
When you're married — eh, my boy?
When the honey-moon is over,

And you're settled down, we'll try -
What? The deuce you say! Rejected,
You rejected? So was I!

SELLING THE FARM.

WELL, why don't you say it, husband? I know what you want to say;

You want to talk about selling the farm, for the mortgage we cannot pay.

I know that we cannot pay it; I have thought of it o'er and

o'er ;

For the wheat has failed on the corner lot, where wheat never failed before.

And everything here's gone backward since Willie went off to

sea,

To pay the mortgage and save the farm, the homestead, for you

and me.

I know it was best to give it; it was right that the debts be

paid,

The debts that our thoughtless Willie, in the hours of his weakness, made;

And Will would have paid it fairly, you know it as well as I,

If the ship had not gone down that night, when no other ship

was nigh.

But, somehow, I didn't quit hoping, and ever I've tried to

pray

(But I know if our Will was alive on earth, he'd surely been here to-day).

I thought that the merciful Father would somehow care for the lad,

Because he was trying to better the past, and because he was

all we had.

But now I am well-nigh hopeless, since hope for my boy has

fled,

For selling the farm means giving him up, and knowing for sure he's dead.

O Thomas! how can we leave it, the home we have always known?

We won it away from the forest, and made it so much our

own.

First day we kept house together was the day that you brought

me here;

And no other place in the wide, wide world will ever be half so

dear.