knew everything. But, oh dear! — I am not likely to know anything," said she, her countenance suddenly changing from its pleased, inquisitive look to a cloud of disappointment and sorrow. Mr. Van Brunt noticed the change. "Ain't your aunt going to send you to school, then?" said he. "I don't know," said Ellen, sighing; -"she never speaks about it, nor about anything else. But I declare I'll make her!" she exclaimed, changing again. "I'll go right in and ask her, and then she'll have to tell me. I will! I am tired of living so. I'll know what she means to do, and then I can tell what I must do.” Mr. Van Brunt, seemingly dubious about the success of this line of conduct, stroked his chin and his ax alternately two or three times in silence, and finally walked off. Ellen, without waiting for her courage to cool, went directly into the house. Miss Fortune, however, was not in the kitchen; to follow her into her secret haunts, the dairy, cellar, or lower kitchen, was not to be thought of. Ellen waited awhile, but her aunt did not come, and the excitement of the moment cooled down. She was not quite so ready to enter upon the business as she had felt at first; she had even some qualms about it. "But I'll do it," said Ellen, to herself;"it will be hard, but I'll do it!" THE CULPRIT FAY. BY JOSEPH RODMAN DRAKE. [JOSEPH RODMAN DRAKE, American poet, was born in New York city, August 7, 1795; died there September 21, 1820. His reputation rests on "The Culprit Fay" (1816), and the "Croaker" papers, political and social hits, written with Halleck, mainly in 1819. Halleck's elegy on his death, "Green be the turf above thee," is famous.] "My visual orbs are purged from film, and, lo! I see old fairyland's miraculous show! Her trees of tinsel kissed by freakish gales, Her Ouphs that, cloaked in leaf gold, skim the breeze, I. -TENNANT'S "Anster Fair." 'Tis the middle watch of a summer's night The earth is dark, but the heavens are bright; Naught is seen in the vault on high But the moon, and the stars, and the cloudless sky, A river of light on the welkin blue. She mellows the shades, on his shaggy breast, II. The stars are on the moving stream, And the plaint of the wailing whip-poor-will, Ever a note of wail and woe, Till morning spreads her rosy wings, And earth and sky in her glances glow. III. 'Tis the hour of fairy ban and spell; The wood tick has kept the minutes well; Deep in the heart of the mountain oak, And he has awakened the sentry elve Who sleeps with him in the haunted tree, To bid him ring the hour of twelve, Twelve small strokes on his tinkling bell- Hither, hither, wing your way! "Tis the dawn of the fairy day." IV. They come from beds of lichen green, They creep from the mullein's velvet screen; From the silver tops of moon-touched trees, Where they swung in their cobweb hammocks high, And rocked about in the evening breeze; Some from the humbird's downy nest They had driven him out by elfin power, And, pillowed on plumes of his rainbow breast, Had slumbered there till the charmed hour; Some had lain in the scoop of the rock, With glittering ising-stars inlaid; And some had opened the four-o'clock, And stole within its purple shade. And now they throng the moonlight glade, Above- below-on every side, Their little minim forms arrayed In the tricksy pomp of fairy pride! V. They come not now to print the lea, For an Ouphe has broken his vestal vow; For this the shadowy tribes of air To the elfin court must haste away :- On pillars of mottled tortoise shell On his brow the crown imperial shone, And his peers were ranged around the throne. He waved his scepter in the air, He looked around and calmly spoke; His brow was grave and his eye severe, But his voice in a softened accent broke: VII. "Fairy! Fairy! list and mark : Thou hast broke thine elfin chain; Thy flamewood lamp is quenched and dark, In the glance of a mortal maiden's eye, Thou hast scorned our dread decree, And thou shouldst pay the forfeit high; But well I know her sinless mind Is pure as the angel forms above, Gentle and meek, and chaste and kind, Such as a spirit well might love; Fairy! had she spot or taint, Bitter had been thy punishment. "Tied to the hornet's shardy wings; Of the worm, and the bug, and the murdered fly: Had a stain been found on the earthly fair. Now list, and mark our mild decree Fairy, this your doom must be: VIII. "Thou shalt seek the beach of sand Where the water bounds the elfin land; Till the sturgeon leaps in the bright moonshine, And catch a drop from his silver bow. Ere thy crime be lost for aye; Mount thy steed and spur him high To the heaven's blue canopy; And when thou seest a shooting star, Follow it fast, and follow it far The last faint spark of its burning train X. The goblin marked his monarch well; And turned him round in act to go. The way is long, he cannot fly, His soiled wing has lost its power, |