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He stubs his toe, and they mock his pain ;-
He throws a stone and they're off again :-
Caw-caw-caw-caw!

Caw-caw-caw-caw!

From out the meadow the lowing kine,
Treading the buttercups, come in line;
Come with their soft tread through the grass,
Answering the call of the farmer's lass:—

Co' boss! co' boss! co' boss !—moo!

Co' boss! co' boss! co' boss !—moo!

They stand there meekly chewing their cud,
Whacking their sides with a sudden thud
To battle the flies; the swinging tail
Meanwhile drops down in the frothing pail :-
So boss! so boss! so-so-so !

Stand still, Brindle! Heist! so! so!

The king of the herd, imprisoned a-field,
Is hooking the bars, quite loth to yield!
He paws up the earth with muscles tense,
And then, pacing down the long line-fence,
On neighboring chief, with haughty mien
And challenge hoarse, he vents his spleen :-
Mow-ow-ush! mow-ow-ush!

Mow-oo! mow-oo! ow-ush!

The mare knee deep in the clover bed
Caresses her nursing thoroughbred;
The well-fed oxen in stanchions meek;
The plowboy grooming his horses sleek;
They whisk their tails and nip at his back,
While down the curry-comb comes a-whack:
Whoa, Dan! you rascal, stand still!
Cxh! cxh! cxh! Gee up thar, Bill!"

The barn well filled with the bursting sheaves;
The swallows twittering 'neath the eaves
Their song of plenty. The farmer's heart,
Like his barn, is full!-While he walks apart
And chants his thankfulness as he goes
By whistling the only tune he knows :—
"Yankee Doodle!"

[Goes off whistling.]

THE HERO OF LAKE ERIE.

FRED EMERSON BROOKS.

JOHN MAYNARD stood at the steamer's wheel;
A common sailor, but true as steel.

Looking for heroes, you'd pass him by

Unless you happened to catch his eye,

That lens of the soul where one looks through
To find if, or not, a man will do

To leave at a post when danger is rife,

And stand there firm at the cost of his life,—
And then you'll agree, with Captain "Dan,"
That rough John Maynard was just the man.

Lake Erie was calm, the sky was clear:
The steamer sped, as the fallow deer
Darts through the grass on the prairie old :
'Twas life on deck, but death in the hold.
Little the joyful passengers knew,
As song rolled out o'er the water blue,
The echo sent back from the distant shore
Was grief's applause and death's encore.

The captain stood by the engineer;
His face turned pale with a sudden fear:
A burst of smoke-no need to inquire,
That crackling noise-"The steamer's on fire!"

Full quickly now his firm orders came:
"Do all you can to keep back the flame!
Give all the steam the engine will stand:
Our only hope is to make for land.

"John Maynard!" "Ay, ay!" "To the nearest shore! Stand firm by the wheel as never before!

The steamer's afire! On you I depend

To save these souls!-Will you stand to the end?" “Aye, aye, sir!" John's words were ever few'Tis always the case with men that do.

And still the captain's commands came loud,
And rang out clear o'er the wailing crowd:
"All passengers out on the for'a'd deck!
We'll do our best to keep it in check,—
Shut passages up, all hatchways close:
Stand by, my good men, and man the hose! "

The passengers rush to the figure-head,
As if in flight from some terrible dread-
Close crowding up where there's little room:
Clinging despair on the neck of doom.

All hands have come up from down below;
Their battle short, a moment or so.
"The engine runs without engineer,"

The captain said, "but some one must steer:
Will you stand firm?" John made no reply:
He would not speak without his "Ay, ay!"
He thought of home that held all his joy;
His fond wife holding her bright-eyed boy,
With fat arms clinging to mother's neck,
But ready for romps at his father's beck:

Two loves outweighing the world to him ;-
What need to die? 'Twas an easy swim;

He'd not be missed in the thick, black smoke;— His hand e'en slipped from the tiller spoke: "Shall I stand here and give up my life,

And leave to want, my baby and wife,

Far worse to me than to stand and burn?"
But some voice whispered: "'Tis now your turn."
Through rifts in the smoke those faces plead;
He thinks of Him once willing to bleed;

The voice of the captain pleads once more:
"Will you stand firm till we reach the shore ?"
All, breathless, wait his final reply—

It comes at last, sailor-like: "Ay, ay!"

"Be calm!" said the captain, "wail no more!
A hero stands there-yonder the shore;

Have faith in him, though you can't see through
The thick, black smoke, yet he'll die for you!
There's no greater faith beneath the sky
Than that I place in Maynard's 'ay, ay.''

Beneath the deck 'twas a fiery maze,
Like some great furnace all ablaze;
While hot smoke rose in its awful gloom,
As if to conceal that pilot's doom.

With one spot free where passengers stand,

The fiery demon rushes for land.

The tiller-house like a furnace grew;—

The smoke gives way, as the flames burst through

The upper deck and go roaring aft,

Then slowly creep up against the draft,
Like unbent sails crawling up the mast,
Till pilot house is enveloped at last.

The wheel and engine stop at the shore,
That hero's "Ay, ay!"-hushed evermore.

He stood there firm at the heated wheel,
He stood there firm till he felt the keel

Grate in the sand of the shallow shore-
Till human flesh could stand it no more;
And falling down on his funeral pyre,
His soul went up in chariot of fire.

Jehovah, the Captain, called him on high ;

John Maynard obeyed with his last "Ay, ay!"

CREEDS OF THE BELLS.

GEO. W. BUNGAY.

How sweet the chime of the Sabbath bells!

Each one its creed in music tells,
In tones that float upon the air,
As soft as song, as pure as prayer;
And I will put in simple rhyme
The language of the golden chime;
My happy heart with rapture swells
Responsive to the bells, sweet bells.

"In deeds of love excel! excel!"

Chimed out from ivied towers a bell;
"This is the church not built on sands,
Emblem of one not built with hands;
Its forms and sacred rites revere,
Come worship here! come worship here!
In rituals and faith excel!"

Chimed out the Episcopalian bell.

"Oh, heed the ancient landmarks well!"
In solemn tones exclaimed a bell;
"No progress made by mortal man
Can change the just eternal plan:
With God there can be nothing new;
Ignore the false, embrace the true,
While all is well! is well! is well!
Pealed out the good old Dutch church bell.

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