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SOMEHOW OR OTHER.

LIFE has a burden for every man's shoulder,
None may escape from its trouble and care;
Miss it in youth and 'twill come when we're older,
And fit us as close as the garments we wear.

Sorrow comes into our lives uninvited,

Robbing our hearts of their treasures of song;
Lovers grow cold, and friendships are slighted,
Yet somehow or other we worry along.

Every-day toil is an every-day blessing,

Though poverty's cottage and crust we may share;
Weak is the back on which burdens are pressing,
But stout is the heart that is strengthened by prayer.

Somehow or other the pathway grows brighter
Just when we mourn there were none to befriend;
Hope in the heart makes the burdens seem lighter,
And somehow or other we get to the end.

X.-DANIEL WEBSTER'S FIRST PLEA.

EBENEZER WEBSTER, father of Daniel, was a farmer. The vegetables in his garden suffered considerably from the depredations of a woodchuck, whose hold and habitation was near the premises. Daniel, some ten years old, and his brother Ezekiel had set a trap, and at last succeeded in catching the trespasser. Ezekiel proposed to kill the animal, and end at once all further trouble with him; but Daniel looked with compassion upon his meek, dumb captive, and offered to let him go. The boys could not agree, and each appealed to their father to decide the case.

"Well, my boys," said the old gentleman, "I will be judge, and you shall be the counsel to plead the case for and against his life and liberty."

Ezekiel opened the case with a strong argument, urging the mischievous nature of the criminal, the great harm he had already done; said that much time and labor had been spent in his capture, and now, if suffered to go at large, he would renew his depredations, and be cunning enough not to be put to death; that his skin was of some value, and, that, make the most of him they could, it would not repay half the damage he had already done. His argument was ready, practical, and to the point, and of much greater length than our limit will allow us to occupy in relating the story.

The father looked with pride upon his son, who became a distinguished jurist in his manhood.

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'Now, Daniel, it's your turn; I'll hear what you've got to say."

It was his first case. Daniel saw that the plea of his brother had sensibly affected his father, the judge; and his large, brilliant, black eyes rested upon the soft, timid expression of the animal, and he saw it trembled with fear in its narrow prison-house. His heart swelled with pity, and he appealed with eloquent words that the captive might go free. God, he said, had made the woodchuck; He made him to live to enjoy the bright sunshine, the pure air, the fields and woods. God had not made him or any thing in vain. The woodchuck had as much right to live as any other living thing; he was not a destructive animal, like the wolf; he simply ate a few common vegetables, of which they had plenty, and could well spare a part; he destroyed nothing except the little food he ate to sustain his humble life; and that little food was as sweet to him, and as necessary to his existence, as was to them the food on their mother's table. God furnished their own food. He gave them all they possessed, and would they not spare a little for a dumb creature, who really had as much right to his small share of God's bounty as they themselves had to their portion? Yea, more; the animal had never violated the

laws of his nature or the laws of God, as man often did, but strictly followed the simple instincts he had received from the hands of the Creator of all things. Created by God's hands, he had a right from God to food, to liberty, and they had no right to deprive him of either. He alluded to the mute but earnest pleadings of the animal for that life, as dear to him as were their own, and the just judgment they might expect if in selfish cruelty and coldheartedness they took the life they could not restore again.

During the appeal the tears had started in the old man's eyes, and were fast running down his sunburnt cheeks. Every feeling of a father's heart was stirred within him, and he felt that God had blessed him beyond the lot of common men. His pity was awakened by the eloquent words of compassion and the strong appeal for mercy; and, forgetting the judge in the man and the father, he sprang from his chair (while Daniel was in the midst of his argument, without thinking he had already won the case), and turning to his eldest son, dashing the tears from his eyes, he exclaimed: Zeke, Zeke, you let that woodchuck

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go!

XI. SAYINGS AND DOINGS.

I SING the hymn of the conquered, who fell in the battle of life— The hymn of the wounded, the beaten, who died overwhelmed in the strife;

Not the jubilant song of the victors, from whom the resounding

acclaim

Of nations was lifted in chorus, whose brows wore the chaplet of fame

But the hymn of the low and the humble, the weary, the broken in heart,

Who strove and who failed, acting bravely a silent and desperate part,

Whose youth bore no flower in its branches, whose hopes burned in ashes away;

From whose hands slipped the prize they had grasped at, who stood at the dying of day

With the work of their life all around them,-unpitied, unheeded, alone,

With death sweeping down o'er their failure, and all but their faith overthrown.

While the voice of the world shouts its chorus, its pæan for those who have won

While the trumpet is sounding triumphant, and high to the breeze and the sun

Gay banners are waving, hands clapping, with thousands of hurrying feet

Thronging after the laurel-crowned victors, I stand on the field of defeat,

In the shadow, 'mongst those who are fallen and wounded and dying-and there

Chant a requiem low, place my hand on their pain-knotted brows, breathe a prayer,

Hold the hand that is hapless, and whisper "They only the victory win

Who have fought the good fight, and have vanquished the

demon that tempts us within;

Who have held to their faith unseduced by the prize that the world holds on high;

Who have dared for a high cause to suffer, resist, fight,-if . need be, to die."

Speak, History! Who are life's victors? Unroll thy long annals and say

Are they those whom the world called the victors who won the success of a day?

The martyrs, or Nero? The Spartans who fell at Thermopylæ's tryst,

Or the Persians or Xerxes? His judges, or Socrates? Pilate, or Christ?

XII. TRAPPING A WITNESS.

THE prisoner being arraigned, and the formalities gone through with, the prosecutor, placing his thumb over the seal, held up the will and demanded of the prisoner whether

he had seen the testator sign that instrument, to which he promptly answered he had.

"And did you sign it at his request as a subscribing witness?"

"I did."

"Was it sealed with red or black wax?”

"With red wax."

“Did you see him seal it with red wax?" "I did."

"Where was the testator when he signed and sealed this will?"

"In his bed."

"Pray, how long a piece of wax did he use?"

"About three or four inches."

"Who gave the testator this piece of wax?" "I did."

"Where did you get it?"

"From the drawer in his desk."

"How did he light the piece of wax?"

"With a candle."

"Where did that piece of candle come from?"

"I got it out of a cupboard in his room."

"How long was that piece of candle?"

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Here Warren paused, and, fixing his large blue eyes upon the prisoner, he held the paper above his head, his thumb still resting upon the seal, and in a solemn, measured tone, said:

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