"Is it thus I find you, laddie?
Wounded, lonely, lying here,
Playing thus the reveille?
See the morning is not near.'
A moment paused the drummer boy,
And lifted up his drooping head:
"Oh, Captain Grey, the light is coming,
'Tis morning, and my prayers are said.
"Morning! See the plains grow brighter;
Morning! and I'm going home;
That is why I play the measure,
Mother will not see me come:
But you'll tell her, won't you, Captain-
Hush! The boy has spoken true;
To him the day had dawned for ever,
Unbroken by the night tattoo.
BROTHER BRITONS.
DAVID LAWTON.
ROTHER Britons, there is danger
To our well beloved land;
But it comes not from the stranger,
Our's a foe that's near at hand.
Mighty armies we could fight with,
Aye, and overcome them too;
But this foe we cannot smite with
Swords, for weapons will not do.
Lo! he comes into our houses,
Fills our shops, and streets, and lanes,
And the vilest passion rouses,
Loads our sons with galling chains,
Worse than slays our lovely daughters;
Rushing everywhere in haste,
Like a flood of mighty waters,
Blighting, blackening, laying waste.
Britons, shall this dread invader
Mar our country's life and peace?
Down from heaven to hell degrade her,
Make her mighty influence cease?
No! we'll each one do our duty,
Drive him from our sea-girt shore;
Then our land in moral beauty
Bright shall bloom to fade no more.
RESISTING THE SNARE.
ALFRED J. GLASSPOOL.
TAND not within the way of sin,
Or with the scornful sit,
Nor in the path of sinners walk;"
Thus in the Book 'tis writ.
Resist the Devil, he will flee
And leave you undisturbed,
And all his snares shall never make
A good child break its word.
A simple story I will tell,
Which is both good and true,
And shows how e'en a little child
A noble act may do.
The subject of this little tale
Was happy Lucy Bell,
A conscientious, happy child,
As every one will tell.
One afternoon good Mrs. Bell,
With her fine children three,
Were seated in a cosy room,
Enjoying much their tea.
But George, the pride of all the house,
Was late at school that day;
The meal was done, the grace was said,
The tea-things cleared away.
"I'll cut a slice of cake for George,"
The mother said, and smiled;
For much she loved her darling boy,
He was her youngest child.
The cake was cut, and ready placed
With toast all nicely done,
Mary and Jane went out with Ma,
But Lucy stayed at home.
Of all the things that Lucy loved
Plum cake stood number one,
For small or large the piece she had,
She'd eat it every crumb.
And Satan knew where she was like
To err from duty's way,
And now he came with crafty thoughts
To make her disobey.
"How I should like that piece of cake,"
Said Lucy to herself,
And without thinking of the act,
She took it from the shelf.
The plums they stared her in the face,
She seemed to hear them say
"Oh eat us up, we are so nice,
Give George some jam to-day."
She looks and longs, and longs and looks,
And almost picked a plum,
When swift the texts she learnt at school
Home to her memory come.
"Thou shalt not steal," caused her to think,
And soon the tempter crushed,
But, fearful she might yet be snared,
Quick from the room she rushed.
When safely from the tempter's bait
Beside her bed she knelt,
While many a tearful prayer she said,
And many a pang she felt.
Mary and Jane and Ma came home,
But Lucy where was she?
The servant said she'd gone to bed,
Then Ma went up to see;
"Oh, Ma," said Lucy, full of tears,
"I have been tempted so."
And then she told about the cake,
And how she fled her foe.
"My darling child," the mother said,
"Your heart is truly right,
Be sure you never will regret
The deed you've done to-night.
"For those who wish to keep from sin
Must shun the tempter's snare,
And when he speaks heed not his words,
But seek God's help in prayer.
WANTING IN LOVE TO EACH OTHER.
H! there's a theme to make each dream,
And power to make each hour
As light and sweet as the bloom at our feet
Which is culled from the May-day flower.
Men seek too high for things that are nigh,
Foregoing the help of a brother;
Selfish and blind is the state of the mind
When wanting in love to each other.
Oh! there's a plan to make each man
Happy the whole day through,
Nor need he to roam to better his home
Would we find him but work to do.
There's plenty of soil on which to toil,
And add to the golden dower,
Would men be but wise, and speedily rise
In loving and aiding each other.
Oh! there's a way to make each day,
And power to make each night
Bright as the moon and the sun's afternoon,
Would men be but wise and unite.
There's plenty for all, the great and the small,
And plenty to give to our brother;
We too often waste in our hurry and haste
By wanting in love to each other.
THE DRUNKARD'S DAUGHTER.
G. W. BUNGAY.
UT in the street, with naked feet,
Her tattered shawl was thin and small;
She little knew, for no one taught her.
Her skin was fair, her auburn hair
Was blown about her pretty forehead,
Her sad, white face wore sorrow's trace,
And want and woe that were not borrowed.
She softly said, "We have no bread,
No wood to keep the fire burning."
The child was ill; the wind so chill,
Her thin, cold blood to ice was turning.
112 Grandpapa and his Grandchildren.
But men well fed and warmly clad,
And ladies robed in richest fashion,
Passed on the side where no one cried
To them for pity or compassion.
Fled that long night, and then the light
Of rosy day, in beauty shining,
Set dome and spire and roof on fire,
And shone on one beyond repining.
Asleep-alone-as cold as stone-
Where no dear, loving parent sought her;
In winding-sheet of snow and sleet,
Was found the drunkard's lifeless daughter.
GRANDPAPA AND HIS GRAND-
CHILDREN.
WE What a merry host! ha, ha!
are coming! we are coming!
Laughing, shouting, singing, drumming,
We are coming, Gran papa!
Here are Henrys, by the dozen;
Here are Marys, half-a-score!
Brother, sister, aunt, and cousin,
We are coming-many more.
We are coming! Willies, Lucys,
Anns and Lizzies, two and two,
Frank and Robert, little gooses,
We can find no mate for you.
We are coming! Edwards, Johnnys,
Harriet, Richard, George, Louise;
Lads and lasses, little cronies,
All are coming-What a squeeze!
We are coming! don't you hear us?
What a glorious noise we make !
Grandmamma, you well may fear us,
With your lemonade and cake.
We are coming! O believe us,
Happy, joyful, glad, hurrah!
In your open arms receive us,
With your blessing, Grandpapa!
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