GENTLE WORDS.
Kind words revive the weary soul,
And cheer its saddest hours,
As dew refreshes drooping leaves,
And brightens fading flowers.
They fall, like sunshine, round the path
Of those who weary roam,
And are the "open sesame"
To every heart and home.
We know the spring will soon appear,
When round us flies the swallow,
So kind words should be harbingers
Of gentle deeds which follow.
Upon the brow of want and care
The joys of life they fling,
And change the soul’s dark night to-day,
Its winter into spring.
Then let your deeds be gentle deeds,
Your words be words of love;
They are the brightest gems which shine
In angels’ crowns above.
Mattie Bell.
THE FROST.
The Frost looked forth one still, clear night,
And whispered, “Now I shall be out of sight;
So through the valley and over the height
In silence I’ll take my way.
I will not go on like that blustering train—
The wind and the snow, the hail and the rain,
Who make so much bustle and noise in vain;
But I’ll be as busy as they.”
Then he flew to the mountain, and powdered its crest;
He lit on the trees, and their boughs he dress’d
In diamond beads; and over the breast
Of the quivering lake he spread
A coat of mail, that it need not fear
The downward point of many a spear,
That he hung on its margin, far and near,
Where a rock could rear its head.
He went to the windows of those who slept,
And over each pane, like a fairy, crept;
Wherever he breathed, wherever he stepp’d,
By the light of the morn were seen
Most beautiful things; there were flowers and trees;
There were bevies of birds, and swarms of bees;
There were cities with temples and towers; and these
All pictured in silver sheen!
But he did one thing that was hardly fair—
He peeped in the cupboard, and finding there
That all had forgotten for him to prepare—
“Now, just to set them a-thinking,
I’ll bite this basket of fruit,” said he,
“This costly pitcher I’ll burst in three;
And the glass of water they’ve left for me
Shall ‘tchick!’ to tell them I’m drinking!”
Miss H. F. Gould.
SKATING—WOMAN’S RIGHTS.
Why may not a woman skate?
She can walk, and run, and ride—
In dance, or hop, she’s always great—
Prithee why not skate or slide?
Skating is a useful art,
Full of dignity and grace;
Exercises limb and heart,
Gives the blood a healthful pace.
Why may not a woman skate?
Swan-like grace and queenly sway
Mark the vigorous, blooming Kate,
Sailing down yon glittering way.
Look! what conscious grace and power
In those broad, out-sweeping strides,
As down the silver-gleaming floor,
With still increasing speed she glides.
Why may not a woman skate?
Often on the frozen Scheldt,
Buxom Dutch girls, early, late,
For the prize of speed have dealt.
Sometimes from the inland town
To the city mart, or fair,
They in merry bands glide down,
And their precious burdens bear.
Why may not a woman skate?
To a friend’s, long miles away,
Oft they sail, with heart elate,
To make a call, or pass the day.
Often so do lovers meet,
Whispering, wooing, billing, cooing,
While upon their iron feet,
Miles and miles of talk they’re doing.
Why may not a woman skate?
What though ankles she reveal!
Skater’s ankles, critics state,
Are not over-much genteel.
What of that!—a trifling charge!
There’s a right for every wrong—
If the ankle’s somewhat large,
May be ’tis well set and strong.
Why may not a woman skate?
Six times we have put the question;
No one rising in debate,
No one offering a suggestion,
Silence gives consent. So, then,
Pretty girls, and women, too,
No less than rude boys and men,
May put on the iron shoe.
Try it, girls—ay, try the skate—
Good for service, seldom tired,
Able to sustain its weight,
Never weak, nor loosely wired—
The well-tried ankle you will find
In your need-hour just the one;
Bind your skates on—never mind!—
You will find it right good fun.
SCHOOL SONNET.
Spell, spell, spell!
A dozen words or more;
To your task and learn it well—
School days will soon be o’er.
Write, write, write!
A page all bright and clean;
Seize the moments in their flight,
No lost one fall between.
Learn, learn, learn!
Some useful thing each day.
From early morn till night returns,
Waste not your time in play.
