"Well, Uncle Dan'l, I think that-My! here comes another one up the river! There can't be two!"
We gone dis time-we done gone dis time, sho'! Dey aint two, Mars Clay-dat's de same one. De Lord kin 'pear eberywhah in a second. Goodness, how de fiah an' de smoke do belch up! Dat mean business, honey. He comin' now like he fo'got sumfin. Come 'long, chil'en, time you's gwine to roos'. Go 'long wid you―ole Uncle Dan'l gwine out in de woods to rastle in prah—de ole niggah gwine to do what he kin to sabe you agin."
He did go to the woods and pray; but he went so far that he doubted, himself, if the Lord heard him when He went by.-CLEMENS AND WARner.
The following touching incident characterizes an important era in the history of the Scotch Covenanters :
TROOP of soldiers waited at the door,
A crowd of people gathered in the street, Aloof a little from them bared sabres gleamed And flashed into their faces.
Was opened, and two women meekly stepped
Into the sunshine of the sweet May-noon,
Out of the prison. One was weak and old,
A woman full of tears and full of woes;
The other was a maiden in her morn,
And they were one in name, and one in faith,
Mother and daughter in the bond of Christ,
That bound them closer than the ties of blood.
The troop moved on; and down the
The people followed, ever falling back
As in their faces flashed the naked blades.
But in the midst the women simply went
As if they two were walking, side by side,
Up to God's house on some still Sabbath morn,
Only they were not clad for Sabbath day,
But as they went about their daily tasks:
They went to prison and they went to death,
Upon their Master's service.
The troopers halted; all the shining sands
Lay bare and glistering; for the tide had
Drawn back to its farthest margin's weedy mark,
And each succeeding wave, with flash and curve,
That seemed to mock the sabres on the shore,
Drew nearer by a hand-breadth. "It will be
A long day's work," murmured those murderous mer
As they slacked rein. The leader of the troops
Dismounted, and the people passing near
Then heard the pardon proffered, with the oath
Renouncing and adjuring part with all
The persecuted, covenanted folk.
But both refused the oath: "Because," they said,
"Unless with Christ's dear servants we have part,
We have no part with Him."
The elder Margaret, and led her out
Over the sliding sands, the weedy sludge,
The pebbly shoals, far out, and fastened her
Unto the farthest stake, already reached
By every rising wave, and left her there:
And as the waves crept about her feet, she prayed
"That He would firm uphold her in their midst,
Who holds them in the hollow of His hand."
The tide flowed in. And up and down the shore
There paced the Provost and the Laird of Lag―
Grim Grierson-with Windram and with Graham;
And the rude soldiers, jesting with coarse oaths,
As in the midst the maiden meekly stood,
Waiting her doom delayed, said "she would
Turn before the tide-seek refuge in their arms
From the chill waves." But ever to her lips
There came the wondrous words of life and peace:
"If God be for us, who can be against?"
"Who shall divide us from the love of Christ?" "Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature."
A woman's voice cried a very bitter cry-
"O, Margaret! My bonnie, bonnie Margaret!
Gie in, gie in, my bairnie, dinna ye drown,
Gie in, and tak' the oath."
And so wore on the sunny afternoon;
fire went out upon the hearth,
And not a meal was tasted in the town that day.
And still the tide was flowing in:
Her mother's voice yet sounding in her ear,
They turned young Margaret's face towards the sea,
Where something white was floating--something
White as the sea-mew that sits upon the wave;
But as she looked it sank; then showed again;
Then disappeared; and round the shore
And stake the tide stood ankle-deep.
With cursing vowed that he would wait
No more, and to the stake the soldier led her
Down, and tied her hands; and round her
Slender waist too roughly cast the rope, for
Windram came and eased it while he whispered
In her ear, "Come take the test, and ye are free,"
And one cried, "Margaret, say but God save
The King!" "God save the King of His great grace,"
She answered, but the oath she would not take.
And still the tide flowed in,
And drove the people back and silenced them.
The tide flowed in, and rising to her knees,
She sang the psalm, "To Thee I lift my soul;"
The tide flowed in, and rising to her waist,
"To Thee, my God, I lift my soul," she sang.
The tide flowed in, and rising to her throat,
She
sang no more, but lifted up her face,
And there was glory over all the sky-
And there was glory over all the sea--
A flood of glory, and the lifted face
Swam in it till it bowed beneath the flood,
And Scotland's Maiden Martyr went to God.
BALTIMORE ELOCUTIONIST.
Dear interpreters of God,
Prophets of Creation,
They who write his will to man
By his inspiration.
O! if aught on Earth be true,
'Tis the song of Poet;
Heart of man! 't is thou art false
When ye fall below it.
Poets, they who see the world
Not by man degraded,
But the pure and Eden world
As the Father made it.
They who read the human heart—
Not as sin enslaves it;
By its aspirations high,
By the faith that saves it.
These are they who dwell with me
In this golden region ; Fairer than was ever told
In a fairy legend.
There are garlands all the year
In my garden rosy;
O! 'tis sweet to enter here
When the world is prosy.
There's a fountain fresh and pure, And a flowing river;
All who drink or lave therein
Shall be young forever.
"Tis the stream of poesy, Fountain of the muses,
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