"You know the railroad terminates at an abyss which is without bottam or measure. It is lined with pointed rocks. As each car arrives at the end it precipitates its passengers into the abyss. They are dashed to pieces against the rocks, and their bodies are brought here and placed in the coffins as a warning to other passengers; but no one minds it, we are so happy on the glass railroad." I can never describe the horror with which those words inspired me. 'What is the name of the glass railroad?" I asked. The person whom I asked, replied in the same strain :— “It is very easy to get into the cars, but very hard to get out. For, once in these, everybody is delighted with the soft, gliding motion. The cars move gently. Yes, this is a railroad of habit, and with glass wheels we are whirled over a glass railroad towards a fathomless abyss. In a few moments we'll be there, and they'll bring our bodies and put them in coffins as a warning to others; but nobody will mind it, will they?" I was choked with horror. I struggled to breathe-made frantic efforts to leap from the cars, and in the strugglė I awoke. I know it was only a dream, and yet, whenever I think of it, I can see that long train of cars moving gently over the glass railroad. I can see cars far ahead, as they are turning the bend of the road. I can see the dead in their coffins, clear and distinct on either side of the road; while the laughing and singing of the gay and happy passengers resound in my ears, I only see the cold faces of the dead, with their glassy eyes uplifted, and their frozen hands upon their shrouds. It was, indeed, a horrible dream. A long train of glass cars, gliding over a glass railway, freighted with youth, beauty, and music, while on either hand are stretched the victims of yesterday-gliding over the railway of habit toward the fathomless abyss. "There was a moral in that dream." Reader, are you addicted to any sinful habit? Break it off ere you dash against the rocks." POPPING THE QUESTION.. I knew by his looks what he'd come for: I plainly had seen from the first, It must come to this sooner or later; and I'd made up my mind for the worst. So I hid myself under the curtains, where the loving pair couldn't see me, In order to watch their proceedings, and hear what he said unto she. I saw he was fearfully nervous, that in fact he was suffering pain, By the way that he fussed with his collar, and poked all the chairs with his cane; Then he blushed; then he wouldn't look at her, but kept his eyes fixed on the floor, And took the unusual precaution of taking his seat near the door. He began, "It is-er-er-fine weather,-remarkable weather for May." "Do you think so?" said she;“it is raining.”—“ Oh! so it is raining to-day. I meant, 'twill be pleasant to-morrow," he stammered; "er— er-do you skate?" "Oh, yes!" she replied, " at the season; but isn't May rather too late?" The silence that followed was awful: he continued, "I see a sweet dove ('Twas only an innocent sparrow; but blind are the eyes of true love), "A dove of most beautiful plumage, on the top of that widespreading tree, Which reminds me,"--she sighed,-"O sweet maiden! which reminds me, dear angel, of thee." Her countenance changed in a moment terrible pause: there followed a I felt that the crisis was coming, and hastily dropped on all fours, In order to see the thing better. His face grew as white as a sheet: He gave one spasmodic effort, and lifelessly dropped at her feet. She said- What she said I won't tell you. She raised the poor wretch from the ground. I drew back my head for an instant. Good heavens! Oh! what was that sound? I eagerly peered through the darkness,-for twilight had made the room dim And plainly perceived it was kissing, and kissing not all done by him. I burst into loud fits of laughter: I know it was terribly mean; Still I couldn't resist the temptation to appear for a while on the scene. But she viewed me with perfect composure, as she kissed him again with a smile, And remarked, 'twixt that kiss and the next one, that--she'd known I was there all the while. RETURN OF THE HILLSIDE LEGION.-ETHEL LYNN. What telegraphed word, Why eagerly gather the people; At crossing and gate Why flutters the flag on the steeple? Why, stranger, do tell— Since our sogers went marchin' away, To show the boys how Bill Allendale's drum Will sound when they come, And there's watchers above on the hill, When the big bugles blow, To hurrah with a hearty good will. All the women folks wait With posies all drippin' with dew; We helped them away, And forgot them when service was through. My Jack's comin' too, Hark, the rattle and roar of the train! Our sogers have come! Hurrah! for the boys home again. "Stand aside! stand aside! Till the regiment forms on the track." Two men only two Stepped off, and the Legion was back. In the space far and wide, As they welcomed the worn weary men ; The drum on the hill Grew suddenly still, And the bugle was silent again. I asked Farmer Shore A question no more, For a sick soldier lay on his breast! While his hand, hard and brown, Stroked tenderly down, The locks of the weary at rest. ARCHIE DEAN.-GAIL HAMILTON. Would you laugh, or would you cry? Like my handsome Archie Dean, And should go to Kittie Carrol, Vowing all he had before? Prithee, tell me, would you cry, And grow very sad and die? Always, in the old romances And when they were widely parted, True, I do love Archie Dean, Where he'll be with Kittie Carrol, Archie Dean! Archie Dean! Archie Dean! Archie Dean! There's a pain in my heart while I speak ; Archie Dean! Archie Dean! I remember that you said Your name should be mine and I should be I little thought of a day like this But there goes the clock, the hour is near I'll go and dance and dance and dance I'll whirl before him as fast as I can, He'll wish that Kittie Carrol had never been born, And that he could be sitting again Close by my side in the green meadow lane, But when I see him coming, I'll turn my eyes with softest glance KKKK |