Alas! alas! for paltry pride arrayed in rich attire,
And woe is me for priestly praise which is our heart's desire!
Would we could seek, like pilgrims gray, beside that sunlit sea,
The simple faith that lit the shores of sacred Galilee!

Sometimes it seems that ages past our souls have sojourned here;
But God's great angel guards the gate and stands beside the bier;
For when some mystic touch awakes the chords of memory,
His awful hand holds down the note, and clasps the quivering key.

Bend low, bend low the lofty brow and bring the sack-cloth gown;
Throw dust and ashes on our heads, and through the sinful town;
I think the green earth grows more gray, beneath its golden sun,
Because the good God sits in heaven, and sees such evil done.

--_Edward Renaud._

YIK KEE.

After father died some ten years ago, I found, that for three years we
had been living on credit. I was eighteen, strong and well, but did not
know how to work. In the little back room of the New York tenement house
(by the way, the landlady seized my clothes for our rent) I considered
my future. I had inherited a great faith in relatives, from my father,
so I wrote to seven. I received six polite notes, telling me to go to
work, and the following letter:

JONESBORO, COLORADO--JACKSON'S RANCH.

Dear Nell.--I'm your cousin Jack. Your father once give me
money to come out West. I've took up land, got a comfortable
home, no style or frills, but good folks to live with and
healthy grub. I've got the best wife you ever see and seven
fine youngsters. The city ain't no place for a friendless
girl. Wife wants you to come. She'll be a mother to you. Come
right off. I'll meet you at Denver.

Jack.

Inclosed was a check sufficient to defray expenses; so I started. Denver
was then only a large town and the depot a barn-like structure. I got
out of the cars and stood bewildered among all the emigrants and their
bundles. Some one touched me on the shoulder--a roughly-dressed,
broad-shouldered man with long, blonde beard and big blue eyes.

"Are you Nell?" he said.

"Yes; and you're Cousin Jack."

"I knew you," he said, as he led the way, "by your black clothes an'
sorrerful look, an' them big blue eyes, like yer father's as two peas.
We'll git the shader outer 'em when we get home. Yer father was a mighty
good man. Bless yer dear heart, don't let them tears come. Th