d up; the dead man's
face expressed peace--a sunbeam fell upon it. A swallow flew with
the swiftness of an arrow into the arbour, turning in its flight,
and twittered over the dead man's head.

What a strange feeling it is--surely we all know it--to look
through old letters of our young days; a different life rises up out
of the past, as it were, with all its hopes and sorrows. How many of
the people with whom in those days we used to be on intimate terms
appear to us as if dead, and yet they are still alive--only we have
not thought of them for such a long time, whom we imagined we should
retain in our memories for ever, and share every joy and sorrow with
them.

The withered oak leaf in the book here recalled the friend, the
schoolfellow, who was to be his friend for life. He fixed the leaf
to the student's cap in the green wood, when they vowed eternal
friendship. Where does he dwell now? The leaf is kept, but the
friendship does no longer exist. Here is a foreign hothouse plant, too
tender for the gardens of the North. It is almost as if its leaves
still smelt sweet! She gave it to him out of her own garden--a
nobleman's daughter.

Here is a water-lily that he had plucked himself, and watered with
salt tears--a lily of sweet water. And here is a nettle: what may
its leaves tell us? What might he have thought when he plucked and
kept it? Here is a little snowdrop out of the solitary wood; here is
an evergreen from the flower-pot at the tavern; and here is a simple
blade of grass.

The lilac bends its fresh fragrant flowers over the dead man's
head; the swallow passes again--"twit, twit;" now the men come with
hammer and nails, the lid is placed over the dead man, while his
head rests on the dumb book--so long cherished, now closed for ever!

THE ELF OF THE ROSE

In the midst of a garden grew a rose-tree, in full blossom, and in
the prettiest of all the roses lived an elf. He was such a little
wee thing, that no human eye could see him. Behind each leaf of the
rose he had a sleeping chamber. He was as well formed and as beautiful
as a little child could be, and had wings that reached from his
shoulders to his feet. Oh, what sweet fragrance there was in his
chambers! and how clean and beautiful were the walls! for they were
the blushing leaves of the rose.

During the whole day he enjoyed himself in the warm sunshine, flew
from flower to flower, and danced on the wings of the flying
butterflies. Then h