Scribner's magazine . on steep hill-sides, and in very stony ground, can becheaply and effectively done by same agent can propel the har-vesters, and work the threshing ma- 586 REQUIEM chines. Even farmers svho till fields ofno great extent, find it desirable to domuch of their work by steam engines,for the reason that fuel is less costlythan horse feed. The mark of the oldutility of the animal in varied emj^loy-ment is retained to our use of the termhorse-power in measuring the energyof engines. That gauge of strength ofold determined what man could do inthe severest taxes upon the
Scribner's magazine . on steep hill-sides, and in very stony ground, can becheaply and effectively done by same agent can propel the har-vesters, and work the threshing ma- 586 REQUIEM chines. Even farmers svho till fields ofno great extent, find it desirable to domuch of their work by steam engines,for the reason that fuel is less costlythan horse feed. The mark of the oldutility of the animal in varied emj^loy-ment is retained to our use of the termhorse-power in measuring the energyof engines. That gauge of strength ofold determined what man could do inthe severest taxes upon the forces at his command. In attaining the pointwhere, owing to the possession of horses,he could use this standard, he won agreat wav bevond the station of his an-cestors, who had but the strength ofmen at their command. Modern inven-tion, by giving us heat engines, hasmade the way for an advance. In an-other century, or even in another gener-ation, the horse may be relegated to theposition of a luxury and an REQUIEM Bv Harrison S. Morris They watched her eddying, like a leafThe tides among ;Nor heeded where her robin hung,For, missing her, he had not sung, Save when she spoke once, low and brief. But, sudden, there amid the vinesHer hands had wet,Between the curtains, hanging loved to draw when day was set, He warbled like a bird divine. Was it a dream of upland waysWith open wing? Or was it pity made him sing For her whose spirit hoveringBrought peace within her holy face? None knew—but hark ! the captive brainSet free the heart!He trilled the sombre night they that waited saw her start. And then she turned—and all was vain. No speech was uttered ; yet her with the upward toward the squares of whiteWith tender, oh, with tender light, And blessed him out of Paradise. TRUE PICTURES AMONG THE POOR THE BELLS OF ABERDOVEY By Robert Howard Russell T^OR many years the way to my knife and emptied them from his apron office has led
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1880, bookpublishernewyo, bookyear1887
