l is not as immodest as the
unclothedness of the artist's model.

MARGARET B. WRIGHT.

"AUF DEM HEIMWEG."

Thy light streams far, thou gladdening star,
O'er vale and forest, tower and town:
From land and sea men look to thee,
In every clime, as night comes down.
But ah! were all the eyes that mark
Thy rising, closed in endless dark,
Undimmed would glitter still
Thy bright unpitying spark!

I heed thee not. In yonder cot,
As home I haste, from toil set free,
Through dusk and damp the casement-lamp
Shines clear across the fields for me.
Dear light! dear heart! how well I know,
If bitter Death should lay me low,
Dark would that casement be,
And quenched your winsome glow!

MARY KEELY BOUTELLE.

THROUGH WINDING WAYS.

CHAPTER I.

"I can't reach it," declared Georgy. "You boys are all growing so tall
that a girl has to mount on stilts in order to go about with you."

"I will find a log," said I, looking about us.

"Come!" struck in Jack Holt, laughing, "make a footstool of me, Georgy;"
and without another word he flung himself flat on his face. She was
never loath to put her foot upon any of our necks, figuratively
speaking, and now, with a burst of laughter, she took Jack at his word,
and planting herself on his shoulders peered down through the coils of
Virginia creeper into the cunningly devised bird's nest in the hollow of
an oak tree. There were five delicately tinted eggs, and she tried in
vain to squeeze her slim hand through the aperture and possess herself
of them.

"Getting tired, Jack?" she asked presently.

"No," he answered, his face still kissing the moss: "I don't tire so
easily in your service, Georgy."

I felt rather bitter against them both. I would have died to serve this
girl, I told myself, yet such an opportunity left me dull and cold. I
was always dreaming of doughty deeds to please her, yet if she dropped
her handkerchief I could hardly stoop to pick it up.

"Oh, get up, Jack!" cried Harry Dart, whose lip had been curling in
angry scorn as he watched the performance: "you are by far too good to
be trodden under foot by any girl, let alone Georgy Lenox."

Georgy tripped down from her temporary throne and made Harry a little
courtesy. "Do you mean to say that you would not be glad to be trodden
under foot by Georgy Lenox?" she asked, laughing and tossing her curls.

He gave a contempt