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The skipper breathes hard, and the lessly a few seconds—of making a feeble color comes back to his face.

dash at something. Then there is a “It was touch, and go," he remarks. splash-I have gone over backwards

“ What is the matter ?” asks Mrs. into the water ! Halibut, putting her head up the com- I can swim, and, when I come up, I panion-way. " Are we at home ?" strike out instinctively, and Guy, who Her husband smiles grimly.

is in the small boat, sticks the boatbelow, my dear," he says; we shall hook into my coat-tail, and pulls me not be in for half an hour."

alongside. I grasp the edge, and am We make a wide circuit, and ap- dragged into it somewbat roughly by proach the buoy a second time, with Guy and Bob, a gruesome object. the mainsail down, and the boys in the I see Flirtina hide her face, Mrs. boat with the hook. They have bard Halibut's kindly countenance wears an work to reach the ring, the waves are expression of sympathy, but there is a so high ; but their stout arms conquer, twinkle in her eye. Poff. is giggling and we are moored at last, with the

behind me. great hawser twisted tight through the “Row Mr. Smythe ashore, boys,” says iron hoop of the buoy.

the skipper. “He will wish to change The sails are coming down, and the his clothes." party from below is coming up. Ex- As I climb the hill, heavy and driphilarated by our narrow escape, I per- ping, with my Brégnet watch spoiled form prodigies of seamanship in the in my pocket, and all the notes in my way of hauling down and tying up, wallet soaking into a pulp, while my and at length volunteer to go out on postage-stamps are a sticky mass, I inthe bowsprit to help furl a sail. Find- wardly resolve that not all my proing myself very successful, I emulate found respect for the Hon. Jacobus as the lads, and undertake to walk in on a gentleman and a sailor, nor even my the top of the furled jib. The ladies growing admiration for the fair and are looking on, and I am conscious of a courageous Flirtina, shall ever again free and sailor-like aspect that must be tempt me on board a yacht. And, like becoming. Suddenly the bowsprit wob- Sir George Cornwall Lewis, I arrive at bles under me. I throw myself to one the conclusion that “Life would be a side to keep my balance, unsuccessful- very endurable thing were it not for its ly. I am conscious of tottering help- pleasures."

JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL,

(WRITTEN ON READING HIS POEMS IN THE CAUSE OF PREEDOM.)

To mother Earth a poet here was born!
Where clasps the sea her rugged breast, her child
First saw her face, her voice first heard, and smiled.
A bantling brave, free skies did greet each morn,
What time fierce blew the Northern blast upborne
On wings of tempest stretching far and wide;
The wild, deep-throated music did abide,
And tuned his harp in Freedom's cause forlorn !
Nor hushed its strings, while sighed the sweet South wind
'Mid captive's moan, and mangling bloodhound's bay;
While Treason strove with serpent coil to bind
Fair Freedom to her altar's shrine, and slay;
Till cleft Rebellion's haughty crest in twain,
And all his native land was free again!

CAMBRIDGE, 1870.

THE LIFE-MAGNET.

THERE was something about the sets in strong relief against the curtains wholesome sleepiness of Freiberg, in that drifted whitely out and in through Saxony, that fitted well with the lazy the open window. So, with the steadynature of Ronald Wyde. So, having going and hale old Frau Spritzkrapfen run down there to spend a day or two he took up his quarters, fully persuadamong the students and the mines, and ing himself that he did so for the sake taking a liking to the quaint, unmod- of the stray home-breaths that seemed ernized town, he bodily changed his to stir the scarlet vine-leaves more genplans of autumn-travel, gave up a cher- tly for him, and ignoring pretty Lottished scheme of Russian vagabondage, chen's great, earnest Saxon eyes as best had his baggage sent from Dresden, he could. and made ready to settle down and A sunny morning followed his removdrowse away three or four months in al to Frau Spritzkrapfen's tidy home. idleness and not over-arduous study. There had been a slight rain in the And this move of his led to the hap- early night, and the footways were yet pening of a very strange and seemingly bright and moist in patches that the unreal event in his life.

slanting morning rays were slowly coaxRonald Wyde was then about twenty- ing away. Ronald Wyde, having set five or six years old, rather above the his favorite books handily on the dimmedium height, with thick blue-black ity-draped table, which comprised for hair that he had an artist-trick of allow- him the process of getting to rights, ing to ripple down to his neck, dark and having given more than one glance hazel eyes that were almost too deeply of amused wonderment at the naïve recessed in their bony orbits, and a blue-and-white scriptural tiles that troublesome growth of beard that, cased his cumbrous four-story earthenclose-shaven as he always was, showed ware stove, and smiled lazily at poor in strong blue outline through the thin Adam's obvious and sudden indigesand rather sallow skin. His address tion, even while the uneaten half-apple was singularly pleasing, and his wide remained in his guilty hand, he stepped experience of life, taught him by years out on his balcony, leaned his elbows of varied travel, made him a good deal among the crimson leaves, and took in of a cosmopolitan in his views and the healthful morning air in great ways, which caused him to be looked draughts. It was a Sunday; the bells upon as a not over-safe companion for of the gray minster hard by were iteryoung men of his own age or under. ating their clanging calls to the simple

Having made up his mind to winter townsfolk to come and be droned to in Freiberg, his first step was to quit in sleepy German gutturals from the the little hotel, with its mouldy stone carved, pillar-hung pulpit inside. Lookvaulted entrance and its columned din- ing down, he saw thick-ankled women ing-room, under whose full-centered cluttering past in loose wooden-soled arches close beery and smoky fumes shoes, and dumpy girls with tow-braids lingered persistently, and seek quieter primly dangling to their hips, convoystudent-lodgings in the heart of the ing sturdy Dutch-built luggers of youngtown. His choice was mainly influ- er brothers up the easy slope that led to enced by a thin-railed balcony, twined the church and the bells. Presently through and through by the shoots of Frau Spritzkrapfen and dainty Lotta vigorous Virginia creeper, that flamed chen, rosy with soap and health, slipped and flickered in the breezy October sun- through the doorway beneath him out

into the little church-bound throng, “Good morning, mein Herr," said and, as they disappeared, left the house Ronald, pleasantly. and street somehow unaccountably The old man remained for an instant alone. Feeling this, Ronald Wyde de- blinking nervously, and shading his termined on a stroll.

eyes from the full sunlight that fell on Something in the Sabbath stillness his face. A quiet face it was, and very around him led Ronald away from the old, seamed and creased by mazy wrinswift clang and throbbing hum of the kles that played at aimless cross-purbells and in the direction of the old poses with each other, beginning and cemetery. Passing through the clumsy ending nowhere. His thick beard and tower-gate that lifts its grimy bulk sul- thin, curved nose looked just a little lenly, like a huge head-stone over the Jewish, and seemed at variance with grave of a dead time of feudalism, he his pale blue eyes that were still bright reached the burial-ground and entered in spite of age. And yet, bearded as the quiet enclosure. The usual touch- he was, there was a lurking expression ing reverence of the Germans for their about his features that bordered upon dead was strikingly manifest around effeminacy, and made the treble of his him, The humbler mounds, walled up voice sound even more thin and womanwith rough stones a foot or two above ish as he answered Wyde's greeting. the pathway level, carried on their “Good morning, too, mein Herr. A crests little gardens of gay and inex- stranger to our town, I see.” pensive plants; while on the tall wood- “ Yes; but soon not to be called one, en crosses at their head hung yellow I hope. I am here for the winter." wreaths, half hiding the hopeful legend, “A cold season—a cold season; our “ Wiedersehen." The more pretentious northern winters are very chilling to slabs bore vases filled with fresh flow- an old man's blood.” And slouching ers; while in the grate-barred vaults, together into a tired stoop, he resumed that skirted the ground like the arches his simple task of knotting a few flowof a cloister, lay rusty heaps of long- ers into a clumsy nosegay.

Ronald since mouldered bloom, topped by new- stood and watched him with a vague er wreaths tossed lovingly in to wilt interest. Presently, the flowers being and turu to dust in their turn, like those clumped to his liking, the old man cast in before them in memory of that pried himself upright by getting a good other dust asleep below.

purchase with his left hand in the small Turning aside from the central walk of his back, and so deliberately that Rothat halved the cemetery, Ronald stroll- nald almost fancied he heard him creak. ed along, his hands in his pockets, his The girl rose too, and drew her thin eyes listlessly fixed on the orange-colored shawl over her shoulders. fumes and rolling smoke that welled “You Germans love longer than we,” out of tall chimneys in the hollow be- said Ronald, glancing at the flowers yond, an idle student-tune humming on that trembled in the old man's bony his lips, and his thoughts nowhere, and fingers, and then downwards to the . everywhere, at once. Happening to quiet grave; "a lifetime of easy-going look away from the dun smoke-trail for love and a year or two of easier-forgetan instant, he found something of great ting are enough for us." er interest close at hand. An old man “ Should I forget my own flesh and stooped stifly over a simple mound, blood ? " asked the old man, simply. busied among the flowers that hid it, Ronald paused a moment, and, pointand by his side crouched a young girl, ing downwards, said: perhaps fourteen years old, who peered “ Your daughter, then, I fancy? up at Ronald with questioning, velvet- “ Yes." brown eyes. The old man heard the “Long dead ?" intruder's steps crunching in the damp “ Very long; more than fifty years." gravel, and slowly looked up too.

Ronald stared, but said nothing audi

“ Yes."

bly. Inwardly he whispered something trowser's pockets again, and the gröschabout being devilish glad to make the en rattled as merrily as before. wandering Jew's acquaintance, rattled “I have made quite a study of biolthe loose gröschen in his pocket, and ogy, and all that sort of thing," said turned to follow the tottering old man he; "and, although a good deal of a and firm-footed child down the walk. skeptic, and inclined to follow Huxley, After a dozen paces they halted before I can't bring myself to conceive of life a more ambitious tombstone, on which without organism. Such theorizing is, Ronald could make out the well-remem- to my mind, on a par with the illogical bered name of Plattner. The child search for the philosopher's stone and o took the flowers and laid them rever- perpetual motor." ently on the stone,

The old man's eyes sparkled as he " It seems to me almost like arriving turned full upon Ronald. at the end of a pilgrimage,” said Ro- “ You dismiss the subject very airily, nald, “when I stand by the grave of a my young friend," he cried ; “but let man of science. Perhaps you knew me tell you that I-I, whom you see him, mein Herr ?"

here-have grappled with such prob“ He was my pupil.”

lems through a weary century, and have “Whew !” thought Ronald, “that conquered one of them.” makes my friend here a centenarian at " And that one is__" least."

" The one that conquered Plattner ! " “My pupil and friend," the feeble "Do I understand you to claim that voice went on; "and, more than that, you have discovered the life-principle?” my daughter's first lover, and only one."

“Will you permit an utter stranger “Ach so !” drawled Ronald.

to inquire what is its nature ?" “And now, on her death-day, I take Certainly. It is twofold. The ultithese poor flowers from her to him, as I mate principle of life is carbon; the have done all these years."

cause of its combination with water, or Something in the pathetic earnestness rather with the two gaseous elements of his companion touched Ronald Wyde, of water, and the development of orand he forthwith took his hands out of ganized existence therefrom, is elechis pockets, and didn't try to whistle tricity.” inaudibly-which was a great deal for Ronald Wyde shrugged his broad him to do.

shoulders a little, and absently replied, “I know Plattner well by his works," “All I can say, mein Herr, is, that he said ; “I once studied mineralogy you've got the bulge on me." for nearly a month."

“I beg your pardon--" “ You love science, then ?”

“Excuse me; I unconsciously trans“Yes; like every thing else, for di- lated an Americanism. I mean that I version."

don't quite understand you." “ It was different with him," qua- “ Which means that you do not bevered the old man, pointing unsteadily lieve me. It is but natural at your age, to the head-stone. “ Science grew to

when one doubts as if by instinct. be his one passion, and many discover- Would you be convinced ?" ies rewarded him for his devotion. He Nothing would please me better." was groping on the track of a far great- With the same painful effort as beer achievement when he died."

fore, the old man straightened himself “May I ask what it was ?” said Ro- and made a piercing clairvoyant examinald, now fairly interested.

nation into and through Ronald Wyde's “ The creation and isolation of the eyes, as if reading the brain beyond principle of Life!”

them. This was too much for Ronald Wyde; “I think I can trust you,” he murgdown dived his restless hands into his bled at last. " Come with me."

66

ence.

Loaning on the young girl's arm, the further end was closed by a locked old philosopher faltered through the door. The girl here rubbed a brim. cemetery and into the town, followed stone abomination of a match into a by Wyde, his hands again pocketed for mal-odorous green glow, and by its help safety. Groups of released church- the old man got a tortuous key into the goers, sermon-fed, met them, and once snaky opening in the great lock, creakin a while some stout burgher would ily shot back its bolt, swung open the nod patronizingly to Ronald's guides, door, and motioned Ronald to enter. and get in response a shaky, side-long He found himself in a long and rathroll of the old man's head, as if it were er narrow room, with a high ceiling, mounted on a weak spiral spring. Fur- duskily lighted by three wide windows ther on they intersected a knot of stu- that were thickly webbed and dusted, dents, who eyed them askance and like ancestral bottles of fine crusty exchanged remarks in an undertone. Port. A veritable den it was, filled Keeping on deeper into the foul heart with what seemed to be the wrecks of of the town, they passed through swarms philosophical apparatus dating back of idle children playing sportlessly, as two or three generations-ill-fated venpoverty is apt to play, in the dank shad- tures on the treacherous main of sciOws of the narrow street. They seemed

Here & fat-bellied alembic lolled incited to mirth and ribaldry by the lazily over in a gleamy sand-bath, like sight of Ronald's new friend, and one a beach-lost galleon at ebb-tide; and even ventured to hurl a clod at him; there a heap of broken porcelain-tubing but this striking Ronald instead, and and sherds of crucibles lay like bleachhe facing promptly to the hostile quar- ing ship-ribs on a sullen shore. Beter from whence it came, caused a sud- yond, by the middle window, stood a den slinking of the crowd into unknown furnace, fireless, and clogged with gray holes, like a horde of rats, and the ashes. Two or three solid old-time street was for a time empty save for the tables, built when joiners were more little party that threaded it. Ronald lavish of oaken timber than nowadays, began to think that the old man's san- stood hopelessly littered with retorts, ity was gravely called in doubt by the filtering funnels, lamps, ringstands, and townsfolk, and would readily have squat-beakers of delicate glass, caked backed out of his adventure but for with long-dried sediment, all alike the curiosity that had now got the upper dust-smirched. Ronald involuntarily hand of him.

sought for some huge Chaldaic tome, Presently the old man sidled into a conveniently open at a favorite spell, or dingy doorway, like a tired beast run to a handy crocodile or two dangling from earth, and Ronald followed him, not the square beams overhead, but saw without a wish that the architect had nothing more formidable than a stray provided for a more efficient lighting volume of “ Kant's Critique of Pure of the sombre passage-way in which he Reason.” Taking this up and glancing found himself. A sharp turn to the at its fly-leaf, he saw a name written in right after a dozen groping-paces, & nar- spidery German script, almost illegirow stairway, a bump or two against ble from its shakiness—“Max Lebensunexpected saliences of rough mortared funke." wall, two steps upward and one very “Your name?” he asked. surprising step downward through a “Yes, mein Herr," answered the old cavernous doorway that took away Ro. man, taking the volume and caressing it nald's breath for a moment, and sent it like a live thing in his fumbling hands. back again with a hot, creeping wave “This book was given to me by the of sudden perspiration all over him, as great Kant himself," he added. is the way with missteps, and two more Reverently replacing it, he advanced sharp turns, brought the three into a a few steps towards the middle of the black no-thoroughfare of a hall, whose

Ronald followed, and, turning

room.

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