And howls resound through upper skies, With doubts and fears is laden. Now far and near the spectre crowd, While closer still advancing: Though God's decrees thy heart do rend! Be mercy thine forever!" [Liszt composed a piano-forte accompaniment for this poem. ing of the music during the recitation adds greatly to the effect. the music, $1.50. Address the publisher of this book.] F. L. STANTON. OCK of Ages, cleft for me, ROCK Let me hide myself in thee," Sang the lady, soft and low, And the melancholy flow Of her voice so sweet and clear Rose upon the evening air With that tender, touching prayer: "Rock of Ages, cleft for me, Let me hide myself in thee." Yet she sang as oft she had When her thoughtless heart was glad; Sang because she sang alone, Sang because her soul had grown Weary with the tedious day, Sang to while the hours away: The play- "Rock of Ages, cleft for me, Where the trembling starlight falls Wandering homeless, through the night. Pausing, low her head she bent, "Rock of Ages, cleft for me, On the marble steps she knelt, Smiled upon her lonely lot; Let me hide myself in thee.” Little knew the lady fair, That her voice had touched a soul That had lived in sin's control; Little knew when she was done That a lost and erring one Heard her as she breathed that strain- Heard her, and came home again! "Rock of Ages, cleft for me, Let me hide myself in thee.” A GIRL'S ESSAY ON BOYS. "Boys are men that have not got as big as their papas, and girls are women that will be young ladies by-and-by. Man was made before woman. When God looked at Adam he said to himself: Well, I think I can do better if I try again,' and then he made Eve. God liked Eve so much better than Adam that there have been more women than men. Boys are a trouble. They wear out everything-but soap. If I had my way, half the boys in the world would be girls, and the rest would be dolls. My papa is so nice, that I think he must have been a little girl when he was a little boy." ABOUT BARBERS. ALL things change except barbers, the ways of barbers, and the surroundings of barbers. These never change. What one experiences in a barber-shop the first time he enters one is what he always experiences in barber-shops till the end of his days. I got shaved this morning, as usual. A man approached the door as I approached it, a thing that always happens. I hurried, but he entered the door one step ahead of me and took the only vacant chair, the one presided over by the best barber. It always happens so. I sat down, hoping that I might fall heir to the chair belonging to the better of the remaining two barbers-for he had already begun combing his man's hair, while his comrade was not yet quite done rubbing up and oiling his customer's locks. When I saw that No. 2 was gaining on No. 1 my interest grew to solicitude. When No. 1 stopped a moment to make change, and lost ground in the race, my solicitude rose to anxiety. When No. 1 caught up again, and both he and his comrade were pulling the towels away, and brushing the powder from their customers' cheeks, it was about an even thing which one would say "Next!" first. But when, at the final moment No. 1 stopped to pass a comb through his customer's eyebrows, I saw that he had lost the race by a single instant. A voice said "Next!" and I surrendered to-No. 2. It always happens so. I said meekly that I was in a hurry, and it affected him as strongly as if he had never heard it. He shoved up my head, and put a napkin under it. He ploughed his fingers into my collar, and fixed a towel there. He explored my hair, and suggested that it needed trimming. I said I did not want it trimmed. He explored again, and said it was pretty long for the present style, better have a little taken off; it needed it behind especially. I said I had had it cut only a week before. He yearned over it reflectively a moment, and then asked, with a disparag ing manner, who cut it. I came back at him promptly with a "You did!" Then he fell to stirring up his lather and regarding himself in the glass, stopping now and then to examine his chin critically or torture a pimple. Then he lathered one side of my face and was about to lather the other when a dog-fight attracted his attention, and he ran to the window and saw it out, losing two shillings in bets with the other barbers-a thing which gave me great satisfaction. He finished lathering, getting the brush into my mouth only twice, and then began to rub in the suds; and as he had his head turned, discussing the dog-fight, he naturally shoveled considerable lather into my mouth without knowing it—but I did. He now began to sharpen his razor, and was delayed a good deal on account of a controversy about a cheap masquerade ball he had figured at the night before in red cambric and bogus ermine, as some kind of a king. He was so gratified with being chaffed about some damsel whom he had smitten that he used every means to continue the controversy by pretending to be annoyed. This matter begot more surveyings of himself in the glass, and he put down his razor and brushed his hair with elaborate care, plastering an inverted arch of it down on his forehead, accomplishing an accurate "part" behind, and brushing the two wings forward over his ears with nice exactness. In the meantime the lather was drying on my face, and apparently eating into my vitals. Now he began to shave, digging his fingers into my countenance to stretch the skin, making a handle of my nose now and then, bundling and tumbling my head this way and that, as convenience in shaving demanded. As long as he was on the tough sides of my face I did not suffer; but when he began to rake and rip and tug at my chin, the tears came; I did not mind his getting so close down to me; I did not mind his garlic; but there was an added something that made me fear that he was decaying inwardly while still alive, and this gave me much concern. He now put his finger into my mouth to assist him in shaving the corners of my upper lip, and it was by this that I discovered that a part of his duties in the shop was to clean the kerosene lamps. |