The bad news quickly reached the deck, It sped from lip to lip,

And ghastly faces everywhere

Looked from the doomed ship.

"Is there no hope-no chance of life?”

A hundred lips implore;

"But one," the captain made reply, "To run the ship on shore."

A sailor, whose heroic soul

That hour should yet reveal

By name John Maynard, eastern bornStood calmly at the wheel.

"Head her south-east!" the captain shouts,

Above the smothered roar, "Head her south-east without delay!

Make for the nearest shore!"

No terror pales the helmsman's cheek,

Or clouds his dauntless eye,

As in a sailor's measured tone

His voice responds, "Ay, Ay!"

Three hundred souls-the steamer's freight-Crowd forward wild with fear,

While at the stern the dreadful flames

Above the deck appear.

John Maynard watched the nearing flames,
But still, with steady hand

He grasped the wheel, and steadfastly
He steered the ship to land. ́

"John Maynard," with an anxious voice,
The captain cries once more,

"Stand by the wheel five minutes yet,

And we will reach the shore."

Through flames and smoke that dauntless heart Responded firmly, still

Unawed, though face to face with death,
"With God's good help I will!''

The flames approach with giant strides,
They scorch his hands and brow;
One arm disabled seeks his side,
Ah, he is conquered now!
But no, his teeth are firmly set,

He crushes down the pain-
His knee upon the stanchion pressed,
He guides the ship again.

One moment yet! one moment yet!
Brave heart, thy task is o'er!
The pebbles grate beneath the keel,
The steamer touches shore.
Three hundred grateful voices rise,
In praise to God, that He

Hath saved them from the fearful fire,
And from the ingulfing sea.

But where is he, that helmsman bold?
The captain saw him reel-

His nerveless hands released their task,
He sunk beside the wheel.

The wave received his lifeless corpse,
Blackened with smoke and fire.
God rest him! Hero never had
A nobler funeral pyre!

HORATIO ALger, Jr.

THE DIVERTING HISTORY OF JOHN GILPIN

OHN GILPIN was a citizen

Of credit and renown,

A train-band captain eke was he

Of famous London town.

John Gilpin's spouse said to her dear,
"Though wedded we have been
These twice ten tedious years, yet we
No holiday have seen.

"To-morrow is our wedding-day,
And we will then repair
Unto the Bell at Edmonton
All in a chaise and pair.

"My sister, and my sister's child,

Myself and children three,
Will fill the chaise; so you must ride
On horseback after we."

He soon replied, "I do admire
Of womankind but one,
And you are she, my dearest dear;
Therefore it shall be done.

"I am a linen-draper bold,

As all the world doth know,
And my good friend the calender
Will lend his horse to go."

Quoth Mrs. Gilpin, "That's well said;
And for that wine is dear,

We will be furnished with our own,
Which is both bright and clear."

John Gilpin kissed his loving wife;

O'erjoyed was he to find

That, though on pleasure she was bent,
She had a frugal mind.

The morning came, the chaise was brought,
But yet was not allowed

To drive up to the door, lest all

Should say that she was proud.

So three doors off the chaise was stayed,
Where they did all get in;

Six precious souls, and all agog
To dash through thick and thin.

Smack went the whip, round went the wheels,
Were never folk so glad ;

The stones did rattle underneath,

As if Cheapside were mad.

1

John Gilpin at his horse's side
Seized fast the flowing mane,
And up he got, in haste to ride,
But soon came down again;

For saddle-tree scarce reached had he,
His journey to begin,

When, turning round his head, he saw Three customers come in.

So down he came; for loss of time,

Although it grieved him sore, Yet loss of pence, full well he knew Would trouble him much more. 'Twas long before the customers

Were suited to their mind, When Betty screaming came down stairs, "The wine is left behind!"

"Good lack!" quoth he-" yet bring it me, My leathern belt likewise,

In which I bear my trusty sword
When I do exercise."

Now Mistress Gilpin (careful soul !)
Had two stone bottles found,
To hold the liquor that she loved,
And keep it safe and sound.
Each bottle had a curling ear,
Through which the belt he drew,
And hung a bottle on each side,
To make his balance true.

Then over all, that he might be

Equipped from top to toe,

His long red cloak, well brushed and neat,
He manfully did throw.

Now see him mounted once again
Upon his nimble steed,
Full slowly pacing o'er the stones
With caution and good heed.
But finding soon a smoother road
Beneath his well-shod feet,
The snorting beast began to trot,
Which galled him in his seat.

So fair and softly, John he cried,
But John he cried in vain ;
That trot became a gallop soon,
In spite of curb and rein.

So stooping down, as needs he must

Who cannot sit upright,

He grasped the mane with both his hands,

And eke with all his might.

His horse, which never in that sort

Had handled been before,

What thing upon his back had got

Did wonder more and more.

Away went Gilpin, neck or 4ought;
Away went hat and wig ;
He little dreamt when he set out
Of running such a rig.

The wind did blow, the cluek did fly,
Like streamer long and gay,

Till, loop and button failing both,
At last it flew away.

Then might all people wel! discern
The bottles he had slung;

A bottle swinging at each side
As hath been said or sung.

The dogs did bark, the child en screamned,
Up flew the windows all;

And every soul cried out, “Well done!"
As loud as he could bawl.
Away went Gilpin-who but he?

His fame soon spread around; He carries weight! he rides a race! 'Tis for a thousand pound!

And still, as fast as he drew near,
'Twas wonderful to view
How in a trice the turnpike men
Their gates wide open threw.

And now, as he went bowing down
His reeking head full low,
The bottles twain behind his back
Were shattered at a blow.

Down ran the wine into the road,

Most piteous to be seen,

Which made his horse's flanks to smoke
As they had basted been.

But still he seemed to carry weight,

With leathern girdle braced : For all might see the bottle necks Still dangling at his waist.

Thus all through merry Islington

These gambols he did play, Until he came unto the Wash

Of Edmonton so gay.

And there he threw the wash about
On both sides of the way,
Just like unto a trundling mop,
Or a wild goose at play.

At Edmonton his loving wife

From the balcony spied

Her tender husband, wondering much

To see how he did ride.

Stop, stop, John Gilpin !-Here's the house"They all aloud did cry;

"The dinner waits, and we are tired:"

Said Gilpin "So am I!"

But yet his horse was not a whit
Inclined to tarry there;
For why? his owner had a house
Full ten miles off, at Ware.

So like an arrow swift he flew,
Shot by an archer strong;

So did he fly-which brings me to
The middle of my song,

Away went Gilpin out of breath,
And sore against his will,
Till at his friend the calender's
His horse at last stood still.

The calender, amazed to see

His neighbor in such trim,

Laid down his pipe, flew to the gate,
And thus accosted him :

What news? what news? your tidings tell-
Tell me you must and shall—

Say why bareheaded you are come,
Or why you come at all ?"

Now Gilpin had a pleasant wit,

And loved a timely joke;

And thus unto the calender
In merry guise he spoke :

I came because your horse would come;
And, if I well forbode,

My hat and wig will soon be here-
They are upon the road."

The calender, right glad to find
His friend in merry pin,
Returned him not a single word,
But to the house went in.

Whence straight he came with hat and wig;

A wig that flowed behind,

A hat not much the worse for wear,
Each comely in its kind.

He held them up, and in his turn
Thus showed his ready wit,
My head is twice as big as yours,
They therefore needs must fit.

But let me scrape the dirt away
That hangs upon your face;
And stop and eat, for well you may
Be in a hungry case."

Said John, "It is my wedding day,
And all the world would stare
If wife should dine at Edmonton,
And I should dine at Ware."

So turning to his horse, he said,
"I am in haste to dine;

'Twas for your pleasure you came here, You shall go back for mine."

Ah, luckless speech and bootless boast,
For which he paid full dear;
For, while he spake, a braying ass
Did sing most loud and clear.
Whereat his horse did snort, as he
Had heard a lion roar,

And galloped off with all his might,
As he had done before.

Away went Gilpin, and away

Went Gilpin's hat and wig :
He lost them sooner than at first;
For why?-they were too big.

Now Mistress Gilpin, when she saw
Her husband posting down,

Into the country far away,

She pulled out half a-crown;

And thus unto the youth she said,
That drove them to the Bell,

"This shall be yours when you bring back My husband safe and well."

The youth did ride, and soon did meet
John coming back again!

Whom in a trice he tried to stop,
By catching at his rein;

But not performing what he meant,
And gladly would have done,
The frighted steed he frighted more,

And made him faster run.

Away went Gilpin, and away,

Went post-boy at his heels,

The post-boy's horse right glad to miss
The lumbering of the wheels.

Six gentlemen upon the road

Thus seeing Gilpin fly,

With post-boy scampering in the rear,
They raised the hue and cry :-

'Stop thief! stop thief! a highwayman !" Not one of them was mute;

And all and each that passed that way
Did join in the pursuit.

And now the turnpike gates again

Flew open in short space;
The tollmen thinking as before
That Gilpin rode a race.

And so he did, and won it too,

For he got first to town;

Nor stopped till where he had got up
He did again get down.

Now let us sing, "Long live the king,
And Gilpin, long live he;

And, when he next doth ride abroad,
May I be there to see!"

WILLIAM Cowper.

W

FALL OF TECUMSEH.

Above, near the path of the pilgrim, he sleeps, With a rudely-built tumulous o'er him;

roam,

To the war-blast indignantly tramping? Their mouths are all white, as if frosted

with foam,

The steel-bit impatiently champing.

Tis the hand of the mighty that grasps the rein,
Conducting the free and the fearless.

Ah! see them rush forward, with wild disdain,
Through paths unfrequented and cheerless.

From the mountains had echoed the charge of death,
Announcing the chivalrous sally ;

The savage was heard, with untrembling breath,
To pour his response to the valley.

One moment, and nought but the bugle was heard,
And nought but the war-whoop given;

The next, and the sky seemed convulsively stirred,
As if by the lightning riven.

The din of the steed, and the sabred stroke,
The blood-stifled gasp of the dying,
Were screened by the curling sulphur-smoke,
That upward went wildly flying.

In the mist that hung over the field of blood,
The chief of the horsemen contended;
His rowels were bathed in the purple flood,
That fast from his charger descended.

That steed reeled, and fell, in the van of the fight,
But the rider repressed not his daring,

Till met by a savage, whose rank and might
Were shown by the plume he was wearing.

The moment was fearful; a mightier foe

Had ne'er swung a battle-axe o'er him;

But hope nerved his arm for a desperate blow,
And Tecumseh fell prostrate before him.

O ne'er may the nations again be cursed
With conflict so dark and appalling !—
Foe grappled with foe, till the life-blood burst
From their agonized bosoms in falling.
Gloom, silence, and solitude, rest on the spot
Where the hopes of the red man perished;
But the fame of the hero who fell shall not,
By the virtuous, cease to be cherished.

He fought, in defence of his kindred and king,
With a spirit most loving and loyal;
And long shall the Indian warrior sing
The deeds of Tecumseh, the royal.

The lightning of intellect flashed from his eye,
In his arm slept the force of the thunder,
But the bolt passed the suppliant harmlessly by,
And left the freed captive to wonder.

sweeps

By the mound where his followers bore him.

12

THE ENGINEER'S STORY.

O, children, my trips are over,
The engineer needs rest;
My hand is shaky; I'm feeling

A tugging pain i' my breast;
But here, as the twilight gathers,
I'll tell you a tale of the road,
That'll ring in my head forever,

Till it rests beneath the sod.

We were lumbering along in the twilight,
The night was dropping her shade,
And the "Gladiator" labored-
Climbing the top of the grade;
The train was heavily laden,
So I let my engine rest,
Climbing the grading slowly,

Till we reached the upland's crest.

I held my watch to the lamplight—
Ten minutes behind the time!
Lost in the slackened motion

Of the up-grade's heavy climb;
But I knew the miles of the prairie
That stretched a level track,

So I touched the gauge of the boiler,
And pulled the lever back.

Over the rails a-gleaming,
Thirty an hour, or so,

The engine leaped like a demon,
Breathing a fiery glow;

But to me-ahold of the lever-
It seemed a child alway,
Trustful and always ready

My lightest touch to obey.

I was proud, you know, of my engine,
Holding it steady that night,
And my eye on the track before us,
Ablaze with the Drummond light.
We neared a well-known cabin,
Where a child of three or four,
As the up train passed, oft called me.
A playing around the door.

My hand was firm on the throttle

As we swept around the curve,
When something afar in the shadow,
Struck fire through every nerve.
I sounded the brakes, and crashing
The reverse lever down in dismay,
Groaning to Heaven-eighty paces
Ahead was the child at its play!

One instant-one, awful and only,
The world flew round in my brain,
And I smote my hand hard on my forehead
To keep back the terrible pain;
The train I thought flying forever,
With mad irresistible roll,

While the cries of the dying, the night wind
Swept into my shuddering soul.

Then I stood on the front of the engine-
How I got there I never could tell—
My feet planted down on the crossbar,

Where the cow-catcher slopes to the rail,
One hand firmly locked on the coupler,

And one held out in the night,

While my eve gauged the distance, and measured
The speed of our slackening flight.

My mind, thank the Lord! it was steady;
I saw the curls of her hair,
And the face that, turning in wonder,
Was lit by the deadly glare.

I know little more-but I heard it—
The groan of the anguished wheels,
And remember thinking-the engine
In agony trembles and reels.

One rod! To the day of my dying

I shall think the old engine reared back, And as it recoiled, with a shudder

I swept my hand over the track;
Then darkness fell over my eyelids,
But I heard the surge of the train,
And the poor old engine creaking,
As racked by a deadly pain.

They found us, they said, on the gravel,
My fingers enmeshed in her hair,
And she on my bosom a-climbing,
To nestle securely there.
We are not much given to crying-

We men that run on the road

But that night, they said, there were faces,
With tears on them, lifted to God.

For years in the eve and the morning
As I neared the cabin again,
My hand on the lever pressed downward
And slackened the speed of the train.
When my engine had blown her a greeting,
She always would come to the door;
And her look with a fullness of heaven
Blesses me evermore.

66

When little Hal, the captain's son,

A lad both brave and good,
In sport, up shroud and rigging ran,
And on the main truck stood!

A shudder shot through every vein-
All eyes were turned on high!
There stood the boy, with dizzy brain,
Between the sea and sky;

No hold had he above, below;
Alone he stood in air:

To that far height none dared to go-
No aid could reach him there.

We gazed, but not a man could speak,
With horror all aghast-

In groups, with pallid brow and cheek,
We watched the quivering mast.
The atmosphere grew thick and hot,
And of a lurid hue ;-

As riveted unto the spot,

Stood officers and crew.

The father came on deck :-he gasped,
"Oh, God; thy will be done!"
Then suddenly a rifle grasped,

And aimed it at his son.

"Jump, far out, boy, into the wave! Jump, or I fire," he said;

"That only chance your life can save ; Jump, jump, boy!" He obeyed.

He sunk-he rose-he lived-he moved-
And for the ship struck out.

On board we hailed the lad beloved,
With many a manly shout.
His father drew, in silent joy,

Those wet arms round his neck,
And folded to his heart his boy-
Then fainted on the deck.

C. C. COLTON.

THE FATE OF VIRGINIA.

HY is the Forum crowded? What means this stir in Rome?"

"Claimed as a slave, a free-born maid is dragged here from her home. On fair Virginia, Claudius has cast his eye of blight; The tyrant's creature, Marcus, asserts an owner's right, Oh, shame on Roman manhood! Was ever plot more clear?

But look! the maiden's father comes! Behold Vir ginius here!"

LD Ironsides at anchor lay,

In the harbor of Mahon;

A dead calm rested on the bay-
The waves to sleep had gone;

To where the reeking shambles stood, piled up with horn and hide.

Hard by, a butcher on a block had laid his whittle down

Virginius caught the whittle up, and hid it in his gown.