Not yet a woman, nor a child,

But that sweet age between,

Which borrows charms from either side, -
The dimpled smile of four,

With gentle mien and glance serene
Of twenty-one or more!

The fair Republic, too, was young,
With equal lustre bright;

The thirteen stars that decked her brow
Proclaimed her might and right,
Which loyal sons dared to maintain
And legislate upon it.
And in this time of glorious prime
Miss Peggy bought a bonnet!

A wondrous work of art and skill, -
A cosmopolitan, -

In Leghorn braided, but adorned
By hands Parisian;

With ostrich plumes that floated o'er
Sahara's burning sand,

And dainty grace of flowers and lace
From France and Switzerland!

Its shape would puzzle Cuvier
Or Newton to define;

It seemed a cube and pentagon
And circle to combine;

'Twas broad and narrow, high and low, So widely catholic

It paled the famous candidate
Who asked the bishopric.

And though no documents of state
Record it, as a fact

'Tis said no measure passed the House, Nor Senate did enact

Aught that so turned the nation's head, Or so possessed the floor,

As measure trim of bonnet brim

When Peggy passed the door.

DEAF AND BLIND.

I HEARD musicians play;

Zitella Cocke.

Heard harp and viol, cornet and bassoon;
And deep, sweet strings gave forth their harmony,
Trying their best to say

All that the Master wrote; yet when the croon
Of the last wailing chord had slowly stopt,
The players-all unfeeling-spoke of beer,
And with a ghastly leer

Retailed the latest scandal; music dropt.

Whereat I marvelled sore, -—

For heaven seemed opened by their minstrelsy.
Strange that they entered not, but were content
With opening thus its door,

Leaving it wide for others and for me.
"It is their way," said Hans, my artist friend,
And to his studio eager led the way,
Where on his easel lay

His latest landscape; - ah! you know the end?

For while, with an entrancéd eye

I saw his work transfigured-reached at once
A meaning that he never knew at all-
Hans spoke of technique dry,

And as to Nature seemed a hopeless dunce;
Described his sketch with details not a few,
As though the scene it pictured was mere naught,
A mere effect just caught

To show his skill on,- anything would do.

And so I marvelled more,

Yet thought: perhaps this is the way of things
In this strange-ordered earth. The player knows
Little beyond his score,

Nor hears the harmonies he sweetly rings
Through others' being; while the painter's eye
Is blind to beauty e'en a scribe may see.
And so the poet - he

Not for himself writes songs that do not die.
Bernard McEvoy.

A man of ancient pedigree,

A Justice of the Peace was he,
Known in all Sudbury as 'The
Squire.'

Proud was he of his name and
race,

Of old Sir William and Sir Hugh,
And in the parlor, full in view,
His coat-of-arms, well framed and
glazed,

Upon the wall in colors blazed;
He beareth gules upon his shield,
A chevron argent in the field,
With three wolfs' heads, and for
the crest

A wyvern part-per-pale addressed
Upon a helmet barred; below
The scroll reads, "By the name of
Howe.'

And over this, no longer bright,
Though glimmering with a latent light,
Was hung the sword his grandsire bore
In the rebellious days of yore,
Down there at Concord in the fight."

T

The

the present century. fan light above its substantial front door, and the solid brass knocker, the twentyfour panes of glass to each of the windows, and other telltale points easily fix the date of this cheerful home to those skilled in the fashions and vicissitudes of rural New England architecture. One turns instinctively to such a house as this, the seat from its earliest occupancy of the refinements and courtesies of life, for possessions of historic interest; and here it was that I made my first simple acquaintance with the family friends of Mr. Lyman Howe, long known to me through Longfellow's pages as the Landlord of the Wayside

HESE are the lines in which Longfellow paints the Landlord of the Wayside Inn in the Prelude of his famous poem which has immortalized the old Sudbury tavern.

In Shrewsbury town, in Worcester County, Mass., fifteen miles away from Sudbury, just aside from the broad, wellshaded main street of the village, and close to the junction of the old and new roads to Worcester, five miles distant, stands a square, white house of benignant aspect, erected within the first quarter of

Inn.

1 CREATION. The most Noble & Puissant Ld. Charls. How, El. of Lancaster, & Bn. How of Wormleighton 1st comisr. of ye Treasury, 1st Gentn. of ye bedchambr. to his Maj., Kt. of ye garter, & one of ye Govrs. of ye Chartr. house. Creatd. Bt. How of Wormton. in ye county of Warwick, Novr. 18, 1606, in ye 4th of James ye ist, & El. of Lancaster, Jun. ye 8th, 1643, in ye 19th of Charls. ye ist, of this famy. which derivs. themselvs. from a youngr. branch of ye ants. Bns. How's, men fams. many eges Since in Engd. among which were Hugh How ye father & Son great faverts. of Kn. Edwd. ye 2d., John How, Esqr. son to Jn. How of Hodinhull in ye County of Warwk.

ARMS.-He bear'th Gules, (Red) a Chevron (pointed arch) Argent, (Silver) between 3 croscroslets Or, (Gold) 3 Wolfs heads of ye Same crest on a wrath (or wreath) a Wyvern or Dragn. partd. per pale Or & Vert (Green) perced through ye mouth wth. arow, by ye name of How, ye wolfs are ye fams. arms. ye cross. for gt. accts. don by ye 1st El.

The house is quite a treasury of interesting things which had to do with the famous Landlord, both as man and as boy. There are a number of gayly colored "rewards of merit," of the species which survived down to the time of the school days of many of ourselves. One of these particular "rewards of merit" is a small sheet of white paper, with edges clipped by the sharpest of scissors into a most ornate design. belongs to the year 1807, and is inscribed as follows:

It

"This will certify that Mr. Lyman Howe has by his good behavior in school, gained the love & good will of his instructress, and deserves a large rewarde and the name of a faithful diligent and worthy schollar. And will be remembered, by me, with love & affection, so long as he continues to weare this caracter, and it gives me

It will be noted that the instructress's surname is the same as that of Master Lyman; but I find nothing in the family annals to indicate Miss Nabby's relationship to the little lad, then six years of age, who must have gone proudly enough home to the Red Horse Tavern with this quaint certificate. The penmanship, executed with a fine steel point, is so neat and dainty that one is fain to pass without comment the trifling orthographic irregularities. Uncertain methods of spelling were a weakness shared by other painstaking teachers of Sudbury. Four