THE BIRD-TRAP.

205

severe in his present thoughtless amusement? Probably not. Yet these lesser cruelties are seeds sown in the youthful character, which may do incalculable harm, and perhaps few lessons are more important to a child than the wanton wickedness of inflicting useless pain.

F

THE BLUE STOCKING.

BY FITZ-GREENE HALLECK.

HER leghorn hat was of the bright gold tint
The setting sunbeams give to autumn clouds;
The riband that encircled it as blue

As spots of sky upon a moonless night,
When stars are keeping revelry in heaven;
A single ringlet of her clustering hair
Fell gracefully beneath her hat, in curls
As dark as down upon the raven's wing;
The kerchief, partly o'er her shoulders flung,
And partly waving in the wind, was woven
Of every color the first rainbow wore,
When it came smiling in its hues of beauty,

A promise from on high to a lost world.

Her robe seemed of the snow just fallen to earth,
Pure from its home in the far winter clouds,

As white, as stainless; and around her waist

(You might have spanned it with your thumb and finger),

A girdle of the hue of Indian pearls

Was twined, resembling the faint line of water

That follows the swift bark o'er quiet seas.
Her face I saw not; but her shape, her form,
Was one of those with which creating bards
People a world of their own fashioning,
Forms for the heart to love and cherish ever,
The visiting angels of our twilight dreams.
Her foot was loveliest of remembered things,
Small as a fairy's on a moonlit leaf

Listening the wind-harp's song, and watching by
The wild-thyme pillow of her sleeping queen,
When proud Titania shuns her Oberon.

But 'twas that foot which broke the spell-alas!
Its stocking had a deep, deep tinge of blue-
I turned away in sadness, and passed on.

"LIFE IS SWEET."

BY MISS CATHARINE M. SEDGWICK.

Ir was a summer's morning. I was awakened by the rushing of a distant engine, bearing along a tide of men to their busy day in a great city. Cool sea-breezes stole through the pinetrees embowering my dwelling; the aromatic pines breathed out their reedy music; the humming-bird was fluttering over the honeysuckle at my window; the grass glittered with dew-drops. A maiden was coming from the dairy across the lawn, with a silver mug of new milk in her hand; by the other hand she led a child. The young woman was in the full beauty of ripened and perfect womanhood. Her step was elastic and vigorous; moderate labor had developed without impairing her fine person. Her face beamed with intelligent life, conscious power, calm dig nity, and sweet temper. "How sweet is life to this girl!" I thought, as, respected and respecting, she sustains her place in domestic life, distilling her pure influences into the little creature she holds by the hand! And how sweet then was life to that child! Her little form was so erect and strong-so firmly knit to outward life her step so free and joyous !-her fair, bright hair, so bright, that it seemed as if a sunbeam came from it. it