rely said:
'Wanted, by a young woman, strong and healthy,
A place as nurse for any invalid.
Address 681, Times Office.' So
I wrote and told 681 to call
Upon me at a certain hour.

"And now,
My dear, this little girl with eager eyes
Has, for a summer morning, heard enough.
The weather is the crown of all that June
Has of most fair,--the year's transcendent day;
When the young foliage and the perfect air
Intoxicate the birds, and put our hearts
In harmony with their extravagance
Of joy and love. Come, come! To slight this day
Would be a sin. We'll ramble in the Park,
And take our dinner there, and see the flowers,
The children, and the swans, and all the places
Which Linda used to love in babyhood,
When, in her little carriage, like a queen
She'd sit, receiving homage from all eyes."

The father had his way; and in the Park
They spent the happy time, and felt the charm
Which harmony complete with Nature brings
When loving spirits, unpreoccupied,
Gain by surrender, and grow rich by giving.
O sunshine and blue sky and genial airs!
To human happiness, like daily bread,
Your blessings come, till the unthinking heart
Recks not the debt we owe your silent powers.
If ye can give so much, what may not He
Of whose omnipotence ye are but shadows
Have in reserve in his eternities!

III.

THE MOTHER'S STORY.

That evening, when the feast of strawberries
Had been partaken, and the happy three
Sat down together, Linda asked: "And now,
May I not hear the rest?"--"To-morrow, Linda,
You shall hear all," said Percival; "but now,
That brain of yours must tranquillize itself
Before you try to sleep; and so, to-night,
Let us have 'Annie Laurie,' 'Bonnie Doon,'
And songs that most affront the dainty ear
Of modern fashion." Linda played and sang
A full half-hour; then, turning on her chair,
Said, "Now shall mother sing that cradle ditty
You made for me, an infant. Mother, mine,
Imagine you are rocking me to sleep,
As in those far-off days."

Replied the mother:
"O the dear days! yet not more dear than these!
For frugal Linda brings along with her
All of her past; the infant's purity,
The child's confiding love, and now, at last,
The maiden's free and quick intelligence!
Be ever thus, my Linda; for the pure
In heart shall carry an immortal yout