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But at sunrise on the morrow

The farm work must be done,
And there's more for those remaining,

Now that one is gone.

So then with a sigh the mother

Will turn to her work again
And forget in the long day's labor

A part of her bitter pain.
And the thrush will sing in the elm tree

Beside the kitchen door,
Nor miss the cheery whistle,

Which answered her before.

Ah, yes, the ties now broken,

When he starts on an untried way,
No

power can ever mend them,

They are severed now for aye. “O wizard of the paint brush,

In your strangely potent spell,
You have woven more than fancy
Or it were not done so well !"

FRANCES FORRESTER.

AH YET'S CHRISTMAS.

Contributed by the author, Paul P. Davis, Grand Rapids, Mich.

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H YET was only a poor little heathen, a twelve

year-old China-boy that ran errands and "did chores for his keep” at the boarding-house I patronized when I lived in San Francisco. It was not what might be termed a fashionable boarding-house, but it was genteel, and, as the majority of California hotels generally are, it was comfortable and pleasant.

I soon made acquaintances, and among the most valued was the family of Dr. Blake, which consisted of the doctor, a sterling man and skillful physician, his wife, and only daughter, Lilly, a lovely child of eight, who was the sunshine of the establishment, a general favorite, and the special care and idol of our little heathen, Ah Yet.

A word or two about Ah Yet. He was a “ bright little cuss," as they say in the vernacular of the coast, about twelve years old. His parents were

, drowned at Sacramento in the flood of 1870, and he had drifted down to 'Frisco, where his “cousin," our cook, looked after him in an Oriental way; that was to ignore the child almost, but to occasionally see that his wardrobe was in order and to insist on his being in the house at eight o'clock evenings.

It was near Christmas, and little Lilly was almost wild with anticipations and plans. One day, meeting Ah Yet in the hall, she said:

“Oh! Ah Yet, Christmas is coming!" “No sabbe," replied Ah Yet. "What you call um

” . Clismus ?"

Whereupon Lilly tried to tell the poor little heathen the beautiful story of the Babe of Bethlehem. I doubt if the China-loy was much impressed with the recital until our little missionary digressed from the story and endeavored to explain to the little

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Celestial the custom of giving and receiving gifts. This seemed to interest him greatly. “Wha' fo' you give um plesents ?"

” "Because," said Lilly, "we love our friends and wish them to know it."

“Allee same, me give plesent my flend, him know I lubbee him?"

“Yes,” said Lilly, “papa is going to have a tree in the parlor, and everybody in the house who wants to can hang presents on it."

Ah Yet said nothing, but his little black eyes glistened, and something very like a smile came over his yellow face.

A day or two later he met the doctor in the hall, and said, “Doctor, me likee talkee you."

“What is it, Ah Yet ?"
“ You ketch 'um Clismus-tlee for Miss Lillee ?"
“ Yes, Ah Yet.”

“S'posin' Ah Yet ketch 'um plesent for Miss Lillee -you hang 'um on Clismus-tlee-you no tellee Miss Lillee?"

"All right, Ah Yet; you give me the present and I'll see that it gets on the tree without Lilly knowing it.”

Ah Yet was satisfied. The day before Christmas he was very anxious, and hurried up his work so as to go down to Chinatown to buy “Miss Lillee's Clismus plesent.”

Now, Ah Yet's cousin was very strict about the boy's being in the house in good season, and about half-past nine he went to the doctor's office and in

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quired if the doctor had sent Ah Yet anywhere. The doctor assured him he had not

“ Him no come back-nine o'clock. Maybe he get hurt. Suppose um cable-car ketchee him ?”

The doctor told him that probably the lad had stayed longer than usual, being attracted by the shop-windows. The cousin left the office, but grumbled: "No likee! Ah Yet heap good boy. No likee him get hurt.”

About half-past ten a ring at the doctor's telephone interrupted our chat. The doctor answered it.

" Hello!”
“ Is this Dr. Blake's office ?
« Yes.”

“ This is the Receiving Hospital. There is a little China-boy here who keeps asking for you. He has been badly hurt, and can't last long."

“I will be right down," said the doctor.

We called the cousin and went down to the Receiving Hospital, where we found poor little Ah Yet. He had been stoned by a crowd of hoodlums, and was sinking rapidly. When he saw us he brightened up.

“Doctor, you sabbee Clismus-tlee ?" “Yes, Ah Yet."

“Me ketchee plesent for Miss Lillee Clismus-tlee." Here he took a packet from the inside of his blouse and gave it to the doctor.

“You no forget Miss Lillee Clismus-tlee ?” And the little life was ended.

We opened the packet. It contained some can

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died citron, nuts, and Chinese confections, some gaudy paper flowers, and a hideous doll.

The people at the boarding-house thought it an unusual thing that we gave the little heathen Christian burial, but we thought Ah Yet's case unusual. What do you think? .

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SHYLOCK LENDS THE DUCATS. Extract from “The Merchant of Venice.” Arranged for a recitation and contributed by George B. Hynson, Principal of the National

School of Elocution and Oratory, Philadelphia.

Enter BASSANIO and SHYLOCK. Shylock.—Three thousand ducats,—well. Bassanio.—Ay, sir, for three months. Shylock.–For three months,-well.

Bassanio. For the which, as I told you, Antonio shall be bound.

Shylock. ---Antonio shall become bound,—well.

Bassanio.—May you stead me? Will you pleasure me? Shall I know

your

answer? Shylock.—Three thousand ducats for three months, and Antonio bound.

Bassanio.Your answer to that.
Shylock.--Antonio is a good man.

Bassanio.—Have you heard any imputation to the contrary?

Shylock.—Oh! no, no, no, no:—my meaning, in saying he is a good man, is to have you understand me, that he is sufficient; yet his means are in supposition. He hath an argossy bound to Tripolis,

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