lifts the latch, now nailed fast:
One gate low doth lie
Which the passer by
Treads o'er as he hurries past.

On the fence close by
Where the sunbeams lie
Doth the kingly Nightshade blow;
But the Asters tall
That grew by the wall
Have vanished long ago.

Not now, as of old,
Blooms the gay Marigold,
Looking in at the kitchen door;
And the Cypress red
Is long since dead,
And the Monkhood blossoms no more.

But the Hopvine still
By the window sill
Is as full as in days of yore;
And the Currants grow
As thickly now
And as ripe as e'er before.

But the hearth is bare--
Not a log blazes there
To light up the empty room:
Not a soft shadow falls
On the whitewashed walls:
All is silent--all wrapt in gloom!

Not a chair on the floor,
Not a rug at the door,
Where the cat once lay in the sun;
And no grandame sits
At the door and knits,
Telling tales of days bygone!

All is silent now,
And the long weeds bow
Their heads in the wind and rain;--
But the dwellers of yore
Will ne'er enter the door
Of that dreary old House again!

E. W. C.

SPRING MOUNTAIN.

'Race Miller, indeed! why don't you say Jim Burt at once? I think I'd
better go live in Rocky Hollow, and weave baskets for a living; hadn't
I?'

'Well, Dimpey, the race is not _always_ to the swift, you know; so you'd
better look out in time;' and Polly Jane took up her pan of peas, and
went laughing into the kitchen. I suppose she thought she had said
something smart, as our name is _Swift_; and perhaps she had; but it
made me as mad as hops, I won't deny it, though I _am_ a minister's
niece! So I pulled my sunbonnet over my face, and went to weeding the
flowerbeds, to get cool. It was going on to noon, and the sun was baking
hot, but I didn't mind that; I could _not_ shell peas in the same pan
with Polly Jane while I felt so provoked.

I _do_ think that Race Miller is one of the homeliest young men I ever
set my eyes on: if I say so _now_, you may be sure it's true. His skin
is almost as dark as an Indian's, and his hair curls up as tight as
wool--you couldn't straighten it if you brushed his head off. Then his
eyes are blue and twinkly, and he has a short nose, and a great, broad
mo