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"I will follow you, my husband!"
This was Hiawatha's wooing!
Thus it was he won the daughter
Of the ancient Arrow-maker,
In the land of the Dacotahs!

From the wigwam he departed,
Leading with him Laughing Water;
Hand in hand they went together,
Through the woodland and the meadow,
Left the old man standing lonely
At the doorway of his wigwam,
Heard the Falls of Minnehaha
Calling to them from the distance,
Crying to them from afar off,
"Fare thee well, O Minnehaha!"

Pleasant was the journey homeward,
Through interminable forests,
Over meadow, over mountain,
Over river, hill, and hollow.
Short it seemed to Hiawatha,
Though they journeyed very slowly,
Though his pace he checked and slackened
To the steps of Laughing Water.

Pleasant was the journey homeward!
All the birds sang loud and sweetly
Songs of happiness and heart's-ease;
Sang the blue-bird, the Owaissa,
"Happy are you, Hiawatha,
Having such a wife to love you!"
Sang the robin, the Opechee,

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Happy are you, Laughing Water,

Having such a noble husband!"

Thus it was they journeyed homeward;

Thus it was that Hiawatha

To the lodge of old Nokomis

Brought the moonlight, starlight, firelight,
Brought the sunshine of his people,
Minnehaha, Laughing Water,
Handsomest of all the women
In the land of the Dacotahs,
In the land of handsome women.

Ex. XXV.-SAYING, NOT MEANING.

WILLIAM BASIL WAKE.

Two gentlemen their appetite had fed,
When opening his toothpick-case, one said,
"It was not until lately that I knew
That anchovies on terrâ firmâ grew.

"Grow!" cried the other, "yes, they grow, indeed,
Like other fish, but not upon the land;
You might as well say grapes grow on a reed,
Or in the Strand!"

"Why, sir," returned the irritated other, "My brother,

When at Calcutta

Beheld them bona fide growing;
He would 'nt utter

A lie for love or money, sir; so in

This matter you are thoroughly mistaken." "Nonsense, sir, nonsense! I can give no credit To the assertion-none e'er saw or read it;

Your brother, like his evidence, should be shaken."

"Be shaken, sir! let me observe, you are Perverse-in short—”

66 Sir," said the other, sucking his cigar, And then his port

"If you will say impossibles are true,

You may affirm just any thing you please-
That swans are quadrupeds, and lions blue,
And elephants inhabit Stilton cheese!

Only you must not force me to believe
What's propagated merely to deceive."

"Then you force me to say, sir, you 're a fool,"
Returned the bragger.

Language like this no man can suffer cool:
It made the listener stagger;

So thunder-stricken, he at once replied,
"The traveler lied

Who had the impudence to tell it you;"

"Zounds! then d'ye mean to swear before my face That anchovies don't grow like cloves and mace ?" "I do!"

Disputants often after hot debates

Leave the contention as they found it-bone, And take to dueling or thumping têtes;

Thinking by strength of artery to atone
For strength of argument; and he who winces
From force of words, with force of arms convinces!

With pistols, powder, bullets, surgeons, lint,
Seconds, and smelling-bottles, and foreboding,
Our friends advanced; and now portentous loading
(Their hearts already loaded) served to show
It might be better they shook hands—but no;
When each opines himself, though frightened, right,
Each is, in courtesy, obliged to fight!

And they did fight; from six full measured paces
The unbeliever pulled his trigger first;
And fearing, from the braggart's ugly faces,
The whizzing lead had whizzed its very worst,
Ran up, and with a duelistic fear

(His ire evanishing like morning vapors),
Found him possessed of one remaining ear,
Who, in a manner sudden and uncouth,
Had given, not lent, the other ear to truth;
For while the surgeon was applying lint,
He, wriggling, cried "The deuce is in 't-
"Sir! I meant-CAPERS !"

Ex. XXVI.-ANNABEL LEE.

Ir was many, full many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,

EDGAR A. POE.

That a maiden there lived, whom you may know

By the name of Annabel Lee;

And this maiden lived with no other thought,

Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child, and she was a child,

In this kingdom by the sea:

But we loved with a love that was more than love,
I and my Annabel Lee:

With a love the winged seraphs of heaven,
Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that long ago
In this kingdom by the sea,

A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;

So that her high-born kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulcher,
In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me—

Yes! that was the reason as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea-

That the wind came out of the cloud, by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love was stronger by far, than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of many far wiser than we;

And neither the angels above in heaven,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever disever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee:

And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee:

And so all the night tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride,
In the sepulcher there by the sea,

In her tomb by the sounding sea.

Ex. XXVII.-"PASSING AWAY.”

J. PIERPONT.

WAS it the chime of a tiny bell,
That came so sweet to my dreaming ear,-
Like the silvery tones of a fairy's shell,
That he winds on the beach so mellow and clear,
When the winds and the waves lie together asleep,
And the moon and the fairy are watching the deep,

She dispensing her silvery light,

And he, his notes as silvery quite,

While the boatman listens and ships his oar,
To catch the music that comes from the shore ?—
Hark! the notes on my ear that play

Are set to words;-as they float they say,
"Passing away! passing away!"

But no! it was not a fairy's shell,
Blown on the beach so merry and clear;
Nor was it the tongue of a silver bell,
Striking the hour, that filled my ear,
As I lay in my dream; yet was it a chime
That told of the flow of the stream of time.
For a beautiful clock from the ceiling hung,
And a plump little girl for a pendulum swung;
(As you 've sometimes seen, in a little ring
That hangs in his cage, a canary-bird swing ;)
And she held to her bosom a budding bouquet,
And as she enjoyed it, she seemed to say,
"Passing away! passing away!"

O, how bright were the wheels, that told
Of the lapse of time, as they moved round slow!
And the hands, as they swept o'er the dial of gold,
Seemed to point to the girl below.

And lo! she had changed;-in a few short hours
Her bouquet had become a garland of flowers,
That she held in her outstretched hands, and flung
This way and that, as she dancing swung
In the fullness and grace of womanly pride,
That told me she soon was to be a bride :-
Yet then, when expecting her happiest day,
In the same sweet voice I heard her say,
"Passing away! passing away!"

While I gazed at that fair one's cheek, a shade
Of thought, or care, stole softly over,
Like that by a cloud in a summer day made,
Looking down on a field of blossoming clover.
The rose yet lay on her cheek, but its flush
Had something lost of its brilliant blush ;
And the light in her eye, and the light on the wheels,
That marched so calmly round above her,
Was a little dimmed,-as when evening steals

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Upon noon's hot face:-yet one could n't but love her, For she looked like a mother, whose first babe lay,

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