were printed I cut a lot of small pictures of animals and ladies riding on horses out of some old circus bills and pasted them on the wedding bills. They were perfectly gorgeous, and you could see them four or five rods off. When they were all done I made some paste in a tin pail, and went out after dark and pasted them in good places all over the village.

The next afternoon father came into the house looking very stern, and carrying one of the wedding bills in his hand. He handed it to Sue and said: "Susan, what does this mean? These bills are posted all over the village, and there are crowds of people reading them." Sue read the bill and then she gave an awful shriek, and fainted away, and I hurried down to the post-office to see if the mail had come in. This is what was on the wedding bills, and I am sure it was spelled all right:

Miss Susan Brown announces that she will marry
Mr. James Travers

at the Church next Thursday, at half-past seven, sharp. All the Friends of the Family

With the exception of

the McFadden tribe and old Mr. Wilkinson
are invited.

Come early and bring

Lots of Flowers.

Now what was there to find fault with in that? It was printed beautifully, and every word was spelled right, with the exception of the name of the church, and I didn't put that in because I wasn't quite sure how to spell it. The bill saved Sue all the trouble of sending out invitations, and it said everything that anybody would want to know about the wedding. Any other girl but Sue would have been pleased, and would have thanked me for all my trouble, but she was as angry as if I had done something real bad. Mr. Travers was almost as angry as Sue, and it was the first time he was ever angry with me. I am afraid now that he won't let me ever come and live with him. He hasn't said a word about my coming since the wedding bills were put

up. As for the wedding, it has been put off, and Sue says she will go to New York to be married, for she would die if she were to have a wedding at home after that boy's dreadful conduct. What is worse, I am to be sent away to boarding-school, and all because I made a mistake in printing the wedding bills without first asking Sue how she would like to have them printed.

THE SPANISH MOTHER.

(Supposed to be related by a veteran French officer. The gestures are by Frances E Peirce, Principal of the Mount Vernon Institute of Elocution and Languages, Philadelphia. A successful recitation.]

YES! I have served that' noble chief throughout his proud career,

And heard the bullets whistle past in lands both far and

near

Amidst Italian Flowers,' below the dark pines of the

north,"

Where'er the Emperor willed' to pour his clouds of battle forth.

"Twas then a splendid sight to see, though terrible, I

ween,

How his vast spirit filled and moved the wheels of the machine;

Wide sounding leagues of sentient steel, and fires that lived to kill,

Were but the echo of his voice, the body of' his will.

But now my heart is darkened with the shadows that rise and fall

Between the sunlight and the ground o sadden and

appall:

The woeful things both seen and done we heeded little

then,

But they return, like ghosts, to shake the sleep of aged

men.

The German and the Englishman were each an open foe, And open hatred hurled us back from Russia's blinding

snow;

Intenser far, in blood-red light, like fires unquenched,

remain

The dreadful deeds wrung forth by war from the brooding soul of Spain.

I saw a village in the hills, as silent" as a dream, Naught stirring but the summer sound" of a merry mountain stream;

The evening star13 just smiled from heaven with its quiet silver eye,

And the chestnut woods were still and calm beneath the deepening sky.

But in that place, self-sacrificed, nor man nor beast we

found,

Nor fig-tree on the sun-touched slope, nor corn upon

ground;

45

the

Each roofless hut was black with smoke, wrenched up each trailing vine,

Each path was foul with mangled meat and floods of wasted wine.

We had been marching, travel-worn, a long and burning

way,

And when such welcoming we met, after that toilsome

day,

The pulses in our maddened breasts were human hearts

no more,

But, like the spirit of a wolf, hot on the scent of gore.

We lighted on one dying man, they slew him where he lay;

His wife, close-clinging, from the corpse they tore" and wrenched away;

They thundered in her widowed ears, with frowns and curses grim,

"Food, woman-food and wine, or else we tear18 thee limb from limb."

The woman, shaking off his blood, rose," raven-haired and tall,

And our stern glances quailed before one sterner far than all.

66

Both food and wine," she said, "I have; I meant them for the dead,"

But ye are living still, and so let them be yours instead."

The food was brought, the wine was brought out of a secret place,"

22

But each one paused aghast, and looked into his neighbor's face;

Her haughty step and settled brow, and chill indifferent

mien,

Suited so strangely with the gloom and grimness of the

scene.

23

She glided here, she glided there," before our wondering

Nor

eyes,

anger showed, nor shame, nor fear, nor sorrow, nor surprise;

At every step, from soul to soul a nameless horror ran, And made us pale and silent as that silent murdered

man.

She sat, and calmly soothed her child into a slumber

sweet;

Calmly the bright blood on the floor crawled red around

our feet.

On placid fruits and bread lay soft the shadows of the

wine,

And we like marble statues glared—a chill, unmoving

line.

All white, all cold; and moments thus flew by without a breath,

A company of living things where all was still-but death;27

My hair rose up from roots of ice as there unnerved I

stood

And watched the only thing that stirred-the rippling of the blood.

The woman's voice was heard at length, it broke the solemn spell,

And human fear, displacing awe, upon our spirits fell"Ho!" slayers of the sinewless! Ho! tramplers of the weak!

What! shrink ye from the ghastly meats" and lifebought wine ye seek?

66

Feed, and begone!! I wish to weep-I bring you out my store82.

34

Devour it-waste it all-and then-pass" and be seen

no more.

Poison! Is that your craven fear?" She snatched the goblet up.

36

And raised it to her queen-like head, as if to drain the

cup.

But our fierce leader grasped her wrist-" No, woman! no!" he said,

A mother's heart of love is deep-give it your child"

instead."

She only smiled a bitter smile" Frenchmen, I do not

shrink

As pledge of my fidelity, behold" the infant drink!"