s; on millions of
suffering human beings--on the cold, dead form of one who understood
naught but love.

O THOU WHO SIGHEST FOR A BROADER FIELD.

JULIA ANNA WOLCOTT.

O thou who sighest for a broader field
Wherein to sow the seeds of truth and right,
Who fain a nobler, wider power wouldst wield
O'er human souls that languish for the light;

Search well the realm that even now is thine!
Canst not thou in some far-off corner find
A heart, sin-bound, as tree with sapping vine,
That waiteth help its burdens to unbind?

Some human plant, perchance beneath thine eyes,
Pierced through by hidden thorns of idle fears;
Or, drooping low for need of light from skies
Obscured by doubt-clouds, raining poison tears?

Some bruised soul the balm of love would heal?
Some timid spirit faith would courage give?
Or maimed brother who, though brave and leal,
Still needeth thee to rightly walk and live?

Oh, while _one_ soul thou find'st that hath not known
The fullest help thy soul hath power to give,
Sigh not for fields still broader than thine own,
But, steadfast, in thine own more broadly live!

AN EVENING AT THE CORNER GROCERY.

A WESTERN CHARACTER SKETCH.

BY HAMLIN GARLAND.

Colonel Peavy had just begun the rubber with Judge Gordon of
Cerro-Gordo County. They were seated in Robie's grocery, behind the
rusty old cannon stove, the checker-board spread out on their knees.
The Colonel was grinning in great glee, wringing his bony yellow hands
in nervous excitement, in strong contrast to the stolid calm of the
fat Judge.

The Colonel had won the last game by a large margin, and was sure he
had his opponent's "dodges" well in hand. It was early in the evening,
and the grocery was comparatively empty. Robie was figuring at a desk,
and old Judge Brown stood in legal gravity warming his legs at the
red-hot stove, and swaying gently back and forth in speechless
content. It was a tough night outside, one of the toughest for years.
The frost had completely shut the window panes as with thick blankets
of snow. The streets were silent.

"I don't know," said the Judge, reflectively, to Robie, breaking the
silence in his rasping, judicial bass, "I don't know as there has been
such a night as this since the night of February 2d, '59, that was the
night James Kirk went under--Honorable Kirk, you remember,--knew him
we