"See, this long curl was kept for you;
And this white blossom from her breast;
And here your sister Bessie wrote

A letter, telling all the rest.

Bear up, old friend."

But in my throat there's something chokes, Because, you see, I've thought so long

To count her in among our folks.

"I s'pose she must be happy now,
But still I will keep thinking too,
I could have kept all trouble off,
By being tender, kind, and true.
But maybe not.

She's safe up there,

And when the Hand deals other strokes, She'll stand by Heaven's gate, I know,

And wait to welcome in our folks."

-Mrs. Ethel Lynn Beers.

AULD ROBIN GRAY

When the sheep are in the fauld, and the kye at hame,
And a' the warld to sleep are gane,

The waes o' my heart fa' in showers frae my ee,
When my gudeman lies sound by me.

Young Jamie loo'd me weel, and socht me for his bride;
But, saving a croun, he had naething else beside.
To mak that croun a pund, young Jamie gaed to sea;
And the croun and the pund were baith for me!

He had na been awa a week but only twa,

When my mother she fell sick, and the cow was stown awa;
My father brak his arm, and young Jamie at the sea
And auld Robin Gray cam' a-courtin' me.

My father cou'dna work, and my mother cou'dna spin;
I toiled day and nicht; but their bread I cou'dna win;
Auld Rob maintained them baith, and, wi' tears in his ee,
Said, "Jenny, for their sakes, oh, marry me!"

My heart it said nay, for I looked for Jamie back;
But the wind it blew high, and the ship it was a wrack;
The ship it was a wrack! Why didna Jamie dee?
Or, why do I live to say, Wae's me?

My father argued sair my mother didna speak,

But she lookit in my face till my heart was like to break; Sae they gied him my hand, though my heart was in the sea; An auld Robin Gray was gudeman to me.

I hadna been a wife, a week but only four,
When, sitting sae mournfully at the door,

I saw my Jamie's wraith, for I cou'dna think it he,
Till he said, "I'm coming back for to marry thee!"

Oh sair, sair did we greet, and muckle did we say;
We took but ae kiss, and we tore ourselves away:
I wish I were dead, but I'm no like to dee
And why do I live to say, Wae's me?

I gang like a ghaist, and I carena to spin;

I daurna think of Jamie, for that wad be a sin;
But I'll do my best a gude wife to be,

SOLEMNITY

In the expression of solemnity three things are necessary: First, Natural voice.

Second, Effusive utterance.

Third, Low pitch.

Here, as in pathetic reading, the natural voice and effusive utterance are used, and the same care should be taken to secure perfect purity of tone and a gentle continuous emission of sound.

Low pitch can be easily secured by striking the pitch of ordinary conversation, which is about the middle line of the voice, and descending on the musical scale three or four notes. The level of solemn expression will thus be reached, and with freedom from harshness of tone, united with an effusive utterance, the conditions of solemn reading will be fully met.

SOLEMN SELECTIONS

THE OLD CLOCK ON THE STAIRS

Somewhat back from the village street
Stands the old-fashioned country-seat.
Across its antique portico

Tall poplar-trees their shadows throw,
And from its station in the hall
An ancient timepiece says to all,-

By day its voice is low and light;
But in the silent dead of night,
Distinct as a passing footstep's fall,
It echoes along the vacant hall,
Along the ceiling, along the floor,
And seems to say, at each chamber-door,-
"Forever never!

Through days of sorrow and of mirth,
Through days of death and days of birth,
Through every swift vicissitude

Of changeful time, unchanged it has stood,
And as if, like God, it all things saw,
It calmly repeats those words of awe,—
"Forever never!

There groups of merry children played,
There youths and maidens dreaming strayed;
O precious hours! O golden prime!
And affluence of love and time!

Even as a miser counts his gold,

Those hours the ancient timepiece told,

From that chamber, clothed in white,
The bride came forth on her wedding night;
There, in that silent room below,

The dead lay in his shroud of snow;