r honest tin.

How that tumble crippled of you,
So's you couldn't hyper much--
Joe, it hurted when I seen you
Fur the first time with yer crutch.
"But," I says, "he's laid up now, mum,
'Pears to weaken every day";
Joe, she up and went to cuttin'--
That's the how of this bokay.

Say! it seems to me, ole feller,
You is quite yourself to-night--
Kind o' chirk--it's been a fortnit
Sense yer eyes has been so bright.
Better? Well, I'm glad to hear it!
Yes, they're mighty pretty, Joe.
Smellin' of 'em's made you happy?
Well, I thought it would, you know.

Never see the country, did you?
Flowers growin' everywhere!
Some time when you're better, Joey,
Mebbe I kin take you there.
Flowers in heaven? 'M--I s'pose so;
Dunno much about it, though;
Ain't as fly as wot I might be
On them topics, little Joe.

But I've heerd it hinted somewheres
That in heaven's golden gates
Things is everlastin' cheerful--
B'lieve that's what the Bible states.
Likewise, there folks don't git hungry:
So good people, w'en they dies,
Finds themselves well fixed forever--
Joe my boy, wot ails yer eyes?

Thought they looked a little sing'ler.
Oh, no! Don't you have no fear;
Heaven was made fur such as you is--
Joe, wot makes you look so queer?
Here--wake up! Oh, don't look that way!
Joe! My boy! Hold up yer head!
Here's yer flowers--you dropped em, Joey.
Oh, my God, can Joe be dead?

_David L. Proudfit (Peleg Arkwright)._

The Ladder of St. Augustine

Saint Augustine! well hast thou said,
That of our vices we can frame
A ladder, if we will but tread
Beneath our feet each deed of shame!

All common things, each day's events,
That with the hour begin and end,
Our pleasures and our discontents,
Are rounds by which we may ascend.

The low desire, the base design,
That makes another's virtues less;
The revel of the ruddy wine,
And all occasions of excess;

The longing for ignoble things;
The strife for triumph more than truth;
The hardening of the heart, that brings
Irreverence for the dreams of youth;

All thoughts of ill; all evil deeds,
That have their root in thoughts of ill;
Whatever hinders or impedes
The action of the nobler will;--

All these must first be trampled down
Beneath our feet, if we would gain
In the bright fields of fair renown
The right of eminent domain.

We have not wings, we cannot soar;
But we have feet to scale and cl