A simple thing that had no bloom,
And but a faint and far perfume.

She wondered why I would not choose
That dreamy amaryllis,-
"And could I really, then, refuse
Those heavenly white lilies!
And leave ungathered on the slope
This passion-breathing heliotrope ?"
She did not know-what need to tell
So fair and fine a creature ?—
That there was one who loved me well
Of widely different nature;
A little maid whose tender youth,
And innocence, and simple truth,
Had won my heart with qualities

That far surpassed her beauty,
And held me with unconscious ease
Enthralled of love and duty;
Whose modest graces all were met
And symboled in my mignonette.

I passed outside her garden-gate,
And left her proudly smiling:
Her roses bloomed too late, too late,
She saw, for my beguiling.

I wore instead-and wear it yet-
The single spray of mignonette.

Its fragrance greets me unaware,
A vision clear recalling
Of shy, sweet eyes, and drooping hair
In girlish tresses falling,
And little hands so white and fine
That timidly creep into mine;

As she-all ignorant of the arts
That wiser maids are plying-
Has crept into my heart of hearts
Past doubting or denying;
Therein, while suns shall rise and set,
To bloom unchanged, my mignonette!

I'LL tell the story, kissing
This white hand for my pains,—
No sweeter heart, nor falser

E'er filled such fine, blue veins.

I'll sing a song of true love,

My Mimi dear! to you; Contraria contrariis

The rule is old and true.

The happiest of all lovers

Was Ernst of Edelsheim; And why he was the happiest, I'll tell you in my rhyme.

One summer night he wandered

Within a lonely glade,

And, couched in moss and moonlight, He found a sleeping maid.

The stars of midnight sifted

Above her sands of gold;
She seemed a slumbering statue,
So fair and white and cold.
Fair and white and cold she lay
Beneath the starry skies;

Rosy was her waking

Beneath the Ritter's eyes.

He won her drowsy fancy,

He bore her to his towers,

And swift with love and laughter
Flew morning's purpled hours.
But when the thickening sunbeams
Had drunk the gleaming dew,

A misty cloud of sorrow

Swept o'er her eyes' deep blue. She hung upon the Ritter's neck, She wept with love and pain, She showered her sweet warm kisses Like fragrant summer rain.

"I am no Christian soul," she sobbed, As in his arms she lay;

"I'm half...e day a woman,

A serpent half the day.

"And when from yonder bell-tower Rings out the noon-day chime, Farewell! Farewell forever,

Sir Ernst of Edelsheim!"

"Ah! not farewell forever!"
The Ritter wildly cried,
"I will be saved or lost with thee,
My lovely Wili-Bride !"

Loud from the lordly bell-tower
Rang out the noon of day,
And from the bower of roses

A serpent slid away.

But when the midwatch moonlight
Was shimmering through the grove,
He clasped his bride thrice-dowered
With beauty and with love.
The happiest of all lovers

Was Ernst of Edelsheim,—
His true love was a serpent
Only half the time !

RIDING through Southside, Virginia, any warm, bright winter's day after Christmas, the stranger may be startled to see a dense column of smoke rising from the forest beyond. He anxiously inquires of the first person he meets-probably a negro-if the woods are on fire. Cuffee shows his white teeth in a grin that is half amusement, half contempt, as he answers: "No, Sar, dey's jis burnin' a plant-patch."

For this is the first step in tobacco-culture. A sunny, sheltered spot on the southern slope of a hill is selected, one protected from northern winds by the surrounding forest, but open to the sun in front, and here the hot-bed for the reception of the seed is prepared. All growth is felled within the area needed, huge dead logs are dragged and heaped on the ground as for a holocaust, the whole ignited, and the fire kept up until nothing is left of the immense wood-heap but circles of the smouldering ashes. These are afterwards carefully plowed in; the soil, fertilized still further, if need be, is harrowed and prepared as though for a garden-bed,

and the small brown seed sown, from which is to spring the most widely used of man's useless luxuries.

Later, when the spring fairly opens, and the young plants in this primitive hot-bed are large and strong enough to bear transplanting, the Virginian draws them, as the New Englander does his cabbages, and plants them in like manner, in hills from three to four feet apart each way.

Lucky is he whose plant-bed has escaped the fly, the first enemy of the precious weed. Its attacks are made upon it in the first stage of its existence, and are more fatal, because less easily prevented, than those of the tobacco-worm, that scourge par excel lence of the tobacco crop. Farmers often lose their entire stock of plants, and are

forced to send miles to beg or buy of a more fortunate planter.

Freshly-cleared land-"new ground," as the negroes call it makes the best tobacco field, and on this and the rich lowlands throughout Southside, is raised the staple known through the world as James River tobacco.

On this crop the planter lavishes his choicest fertilizers; for the ranker the growth, the longer and larger the leaf, the greater is the value thereof, though the manufacturers complain bitterly of the free use of guano, which they say destroys the resinous gum on which the value of the leaf depends.

Once set, the young plant must contend not only with the ordinary risk of transplanting, but the cut-worm is now to be dreaded. Working underground, it severs the stem just above the root, and the first intimation of its presence is the prone and drooping plant. For this there is no remedy except to plant and replant, until the tobacco itself kills the worm. In one instance which came under our observation, a single field was replanted six times before the planter succeeded in getting "a good stand," as they call it on the plantations; but this was an extreme

case.

When the plants are fairly started in their growth, the planter tops and primes them, processes performed, the first by pinching off the top bud which would else run to seed, and the second by removing the lower leaves of each plant, leaving bare a space of some

inches near the ground and retaining from six to a dozen stout, well-formed leaves on each stem, according to the promise of the soil and season, and these leaves form the crop.

There is absolutely no rest on a large tobacco plantation, one step following another in the cultivation of the troublesome weed,the last year's crop is rarely shipped to market before the seed must be sown for the next,and planting and replanting, topping and priming, suckering and worming crowd on each other through all the summer months. Under the old régime, when on every plantation were a score or more of idle negro urchins, the rejected lower leaves, or primings, formed one of the mistress's perquisites and were carefully collected by the "house-gang," as her force was styled, strung on small sharp sticks like exaggerated meat-skewers, and cured, first in the sun, afterwards in the barn, often placing a pretty penny in her private purse. Now when all labor must be paid for in money, they are not worth collecting, and, except when some thrifty freedman has a large family which he wishes to turn to account, are left to wither where they fall.

Withal the ground must be rigidly kept free from grass and weeds, and after the plants have attained any size this must be done by hoe: horse and plow would break and bruise the brittle leaves.

Suckering is performed by removing every leaf-bud which the plant throws out after the priming, thus retaining all its sap and strength for the development of the leaves already

formed, and this must be done again and again through the whole season.

Worming is still more tedious and unremitting. In the animal kingdom there are three creatures, and three only, to whom tobacco is not poisonous-man, a goat found among the Andes, and the tobacco-worm. This last is a long, smooth-skinned worm, its body formed of successive knobs or rings, furnished each with a pair of legs, large prominent eyes, and is in color as green as the leaf upon which it feeds. It is found only on the under side of the leaves, every one of which must be carefully lifted and examined for its presence. Women make better wormers than men, probably because they are more patient and painstaking. When caught the worm is pulled apart between the thumb and finger, for crushing it in the soft mold of the carefully cultivated fields is impossible.

Carelessness in worming was an unpardonable offence in the days of slavery, and was frequently punished with great severity. An occasional penalty on some plantations, very few, in justice to Virginia planters be it said,-was to compel the delinquent wormer to bite in two the disgusting worm discovered in his or her row by the lynx-eyed overseer. Valuable coadjutors in this work are the housewife's flock of turkeys, which are allowed the range of the tobacco lots near the house, and which destroy the worms by scores. The moth, whose egg produces these larvæ, is a large white miller of unusual size and prolificness. Liberal and kind masters would frequently offer the negro children a reward for every miller captured, and many were the pennies won in this way. One of these insects, placed one evening under an inverted tumbler, was found next morning to have deposited over two hundred eggs on the glass.

As the plant matures the leaves grow heavy, and, thick with gum, droop gracefully over from the plant. Then as they ripen, one by one the plants are cut, some inches below the first leaves, with short stout knives, -scythe or reaper is useless here, and hung, heads down, on scaffolds, in the open air, till ready to be taken to the barn.

A Virginia tobacco-barn is totally unlike any other building under the sun. Square as to the ground plan, its height is usually twice its width and length. In the center of the bare earthen floor is the trench for firing; around the sides runs a raised platform for placing the leaves in bulk; and, commencing at a safe distance from the fire, up to the top of the tall building, reach beams stretching across for the reception of the tobaccosticks, thick pine laths, from which are suspended the heavy plants.

Safely housed and beyond all danger of the frost, whose slightest touch is sufficient to blacken and destroy it, the crop is now ready for firing, and through the late autumn days blue clouds of smoke hover over and around the steep roofs of the tall tobacco-barns. A stranger might suppose the buildings on fire, but not a blaze is within, the object here, as in bacon-curing, being smoke, not fire. For this the old field-pine is eschewed, and the planter draws on his stock of oak and hickorytrees. Many use sassafras and sweet gum in preference to all other woods for this purpose, under the impression that they improve the flavor of the tobacco-leaf.

When the leaves, fully cured, have taken

WORMING.

the rich brown hue of the tobacco of commerce, so unlike the deep green of the growing plant that a person familiar only with the one would never recognize the other as the same plant, the planter must fold his hands and wait until they are in condition for what is technically known as striking, i.e., taking down from the rafters on which they are suspended. Touch the tobacco when too dry and it crumbles, disturb it when too high or damp, and its value for shipping is materially lessened, while if handled in too cold weather it becomes harsh. But there comes a mild damp spell, and the watchful planter seizing the right moment, since tobacco, like time and tide, waits for no man, musters all the force he can command for the work of stripping and stemming. This done, the leaves are sorted and tied in bundles, several being held in one hand, while around the stalk-end of the cluster is wrapped another leaf the loose end of which is tucked through the center of the bundle. Great care is taken in this operation not to break the leaf, and oil or lard is freely used in the work.

During this process the crop is divided into the various grades of commerce, "long bright leaf" heading the list, which is ended by inferior "lugs," the lowest grade known to manufacturers. These last are seldom packed into hogsheads, but are sent loose,

and sold, without the trouble of prizing, in the nearest market-town.

Shades imperceptible to a novice, serve to determine the value of the leaf. As it varies in color, texture, and length, so fluctuates its market price, and at least half the battle lies in the manner in which the crop has been handled in curing.

From the mountainous counties of South-western Virginia, Franklin, Henry, and Patrick, comes all the rarest and the most

valuable tobacco, "fancy wrappers" often bringing $100 per 100 lbs, but these crops are small in proportion to those raised on the lowlands of the Dan and James and their tributaries.

This tobacco is much lighter in color, much softer in texture, than the ordinary staple, and is frequently as soft and fine as silk. Some years ago a bonnet made of this tobacco was exhibited at the Border Agricultural Fair, and had somewhat the appearance of brown silk. Only one such plant have I ever seen grown in Southside, and that, a bright golden brown, and nearly two

A VIRGINIA TOBACCO BARN.