The Chap-book; semi-monthly . ff amans head on its way; ships, planked with heart of treesthat grew in the sunshine, and kissed the rain and thewinds; men and women, ah! men and women wholoved and smiled, and the miserable; all these earth haspoured into the sea, into the ooze that pillows thedrowned. But ooze would not pillow the hermit noroar. Tide and waves cradled them. The oar drifted faster, half up the reach before morn-ing, off the small harbor, when the fog lifted, was amongthe seiners, bruised, broken, and knowing some thingsunutterable, but it was only an oar and passed
The Chap-book; semi-monthly . ff amans head on its way; ships, planked with heart of treesthat grew in the sunshine, and kissed the rain and thewinds; men and women, ah! men and women wholoved and smiled, and the miserable; all these earth haspoured into the sea, into the ooze that pillows thedrowned. But ooze would not pillow the hermit noroar. Tide and waves cradled them. The oar drifted faster, half up the reach before morn-ing, off the small harbor, when the fog lifted, was amongthe seiners, bruised, broken, and knowing some thingsunutterable, but it was only an oar and passed it drifted the other, heavier, only its white facecutting the water, swinging always with the sway ofthe water, but always face up, and after the bruised oaruntil it, too, was among the seiners. What a curious thing the tide is! One would thinkit were human. Nay, it was more than humar to thehermit, the bell-ringer, or **Jes Jones as the scaredislanders called the sore thing they lifted out of the water. Myles Hemenvv^ w JOHN ALBERT MACY 4II LULLABY HEN the light steals from the sky, (Great One, guard my little son!) Day looks back with dimming to leave my pretty one. Day and Baby are such lovers. That the fleeting Lady hovers On the edge of Westernland,Kissing farewells on her hand ; Baby answers with a bow — Weary head is nodding now. See ! my babe has stoln away (Great One, guard his wandering !) After fast retreating Day, Borne on Sleeps uplifting wing. Drowsily his spirit hovers Far away in Dreamland covers. Where at night babes ever Day that loves them so. When the skies again are blue Little ones will come back too. John Albert Macy. EXTRACTS FROM A STORY-TELLERS DICTIONARY. IN Paradise Woods, close by Tarry awhile (as wecall our home), my friend Smith, of New Orleans,of whom I dare say you have heard, read aloud tous one of Stevensons tales — a simple story of a manwho had shown courage in danger, faithfulness undertrial, and magnanimity in
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, bookidchapbooksemi, bookyear1894
