bed to dream of ships and flying clouds
and cold winds, and a great and beautiful blue plain of waves.

[TO BE CONTINUED.]

GOLD.

A day of bright reflections on the pond,
And wavering shadows over moss and frond:
A wayward breeze, the summer's latest born,
Teased the stiff grain and bent the stately corn,
Or rocked the bird-nests in the prickly thorn.

Above, the lavish sun filled air with gold;
Again, below, on mimic waves it rolled,
And hid in lily cups. Her netted hair
Gleamed in the splendor, bright beyond compare,
Forming about her head a nimbus rare.

The velvet mullen raised its yellow head,
The buttercups like precious ore were spread:
Like golden shuttles flung by spirit hands,
Weaving invisible their magic strands,
Darted quick orioles in joyous bands.

Fond helianthus turned her fervent face,
Meek antirrhinum paled and grew apace;
Late dandelions, robed in cloth of gold,
With golden-rod, upsprung from out the mould,
And pensive, gold-eyed daisies pranked the wold.

As snowy, gold-rimmed cloudlets hide the sky,
So hid her eyelid's golden fringe her eye:
As every growing beauty of the earth
But figures forth great Nature's hidden worth,
So my love's charms from her pure heart had birth.

Pure heart of gold to me that day was given,
And promise true as gold made earth a heaven;
Then far away fled every doubt forlorn;
We felt for us the Golden Age reborn,
And envied none their gold from labor torn.

ITA ANIOL PROKOP.

GLIMPSES OF GHOST-LAND.

It is no longer the fashion to scoff at tales of the supernatural.
On the contrary, there is a growing tendency to investigate subjects
which were formerly pooh-poohed by most persons claiming to be well
informed and capable of reasoning. It is, however, without propounding
any theory or advancing any opinion that I record a few instances of
apparently supernatural, or at least inexplicable, occurrences. I can
vouch for the truth of nearly all the stories I am about to relate,
one of them only not being either my personal experience or narrated
to me by some one of the actors in the scene.

My first story shall be one that was told to me by an aged lady who
was one of the friends of my youth, and who often mentioned this
strange incident of her placid, yet busy life. She was a sensible,
practical woman, the last person in the world likely to be led astray
by an overheated ima