Near by, the earth lay full of rest,
The sleepy foot-hills, one by one,
Dimpled their way to twilight;

And ere the perfect day was done
There came long gleams of tinted sun,
Through heaven's crimson skylight.

Slowly crept on the listening night,

The sinking moon shone pale and slender; We hailed the cotton-woods, in sight, The home-roof gleaming near and tender, Guiding our quickened steps aright. Soon darkened all the mighty hills, The gods were sitting there in shadow; Lulled were the noisy woodland rills, Silent the silvery woodland trills— 'Twas starlight over Colorado.

THE TWO MYSTERIES.

We know not what is, dear,
This sleep so deep and still;
The folded hands, the awful calm,
The cheek so pale and chill;
The lids that will not lift again,
Though we may call and call;
The strange white solitude of peace
That settles over all.

We know not what it means, dear,
This desolate heart-pain;

This dread to take our daily way,
And walk in it again;

We know not to what other sphere
The loved who leave us go,

Nor why we're left to wander still,
Nor why we do not know.

But this we know our loved and dead,
If they should come this day-
Should come and ask us, "What is life?"
Not one of us could say.

Life is a mystery as deep

As ever death can be ;

Yet oh! how dear it is to us

This life we live and see!

Then might they say-these vanished ones-
And blessed is the thought! -
"So death is sweet to us, beloved,
Though we may show you naught;
We may not to the quick reveal
The mystery of death-

Ye cannot tell us, if ye would,
The mystery of breath."

The child who enters life comes not
With knowledge or intent,

So those who enter death must go
As little children sent,
Nothing is known. But I believe.

That God is overhead;

And as life is to the living,

So death is to the dead.

DODGSON, CHARLES LUTWIDGE, an English clergyman and writer on mathematical subjects, born in 1832; died in 1890. He was lecturer at Christ Church, Oxford, from 1855 to 1881. His principal works are A Syllabus of Plain and Algebraical Geometry (1860); Guide to the Mathematical Student, etc. (1864); Elementary Treatise on Determinants (1867). He wrote, under the pseudonym of "Lewis Carroll," two very popular tales for children, entitled Alice in Wonderland (1869), and Through the Looking-glass (1875). He also published The Hunting of the Snark (1876); Rhyme? and Reason? (1883); A Tangled Tale (1886); Euclid aud His Modern Rivals (1886); Game of Logic (1887); Curiosa and Mathematica (1888); Syler and Brund (1890).

THE MOCK TURTLE'S STORY.

"Once," said the Mock Turtle at last, with a deep sigh, "I was a real Turtle." These words were followed by a very long silence, broken only by an occasional exclamation of "Hjckrrh!" from the Gryphon, and the constant heavy sobbing of the Mock Turtle. Alice was very nearly getting up and saying, "Thank you, sir, for your very interesting story," but she could not help thinking there must be more to come, so she sat still and said nothing. "When we were little," the Mock Turtle went on at last, more calmly, though still sobbing a little now and then, we went to school in the sea. The master was an old Turtle-we used to call him Tortoise--"

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"Why did you call him Tortoise, if he wasn't one?" Alice asked.

"We called him Tortoise because he taught us," said the Mock Turtle angrily; "really you are very dull." The Mock Turtle went on. "We had the best of educations-in fact, we went to school every day——"

"I've been to a day-school too," said Alice; "you needn't be so proud as all that."

"With extras?" asked the Mock Turtle, a little anxiously.

"Yes," said Alice, "we learned French and music." "And washing?" said the Mock Turtle. "Certainly not!" said Alice, indignantly.

"Ah! Then yours wasn't a really good school," said the Mock Turtle in a tone of great relief.

"Now at

ours they had at the end of the bill, 'French, music, and washing extra.'"

"You couldn't have wanted it much," said Alice; "living at the bottom of the sea."

"I couldn't afford to learn it," said the Mock Turtle, with a sigh. "I only took the regular course."

"What was that?" inquired Alice.

"Reeling and Writhing, of course, to begin with," the Mock Turtle replied: "and the different branches of Arithmetic-Ambition, Distraction, Uglification, and Derision. There was Mystery-Mystery ancient and modern, with Seaography: then Drawling-the Drawling-master was an old conger-eel, that used to come once a week he taught us Drawling, Stretching, and Fainting in coils."

"What was that like?" said Alice.

"Well, I can't show it you, myself," the Mock Turtle said: "I'm too stiff. And the Gryphon never learnt it."

"And how many hours a day did you do lessons?" said Alice.

"Ten hours the first day," said the Mock Turtle, "nine the next, and so on."

"What a curious plan!" exclaimed Alice.

"That's the reason they're called lessons," the Gryphon remarked; "because they lessen from day to day." -Alice in Wonderland.

THE WALRUS AND THE CARPENTER.

The sun was shining on the sea,
Shining with all his might :
He did his very best to make
The billows smooth and bright-
And this was odd, because it was
The middle of the night.

The sea was wet as wet could be,
The sands were dry as dry.
You could not see a cloud, because
No cloud was in the sky;
No birds were flying overhead—
There were no birds to fly.

The Walrus and the Carpenter
Were walking close at hand;
They wept like anything to see
Such quantities of sand;
"If this were only cleared away,"
They said, "it would be grand!"

"O Oysters, come and walk with us!"
The Walrus did beseech.

"A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,
Along the briny beach:

We cannot do with more than four,
To give a hand to each."

The eldest Oyster looked at him,
But never a word he said:
The eldest Oyster winked his eye,
And shook his hoary head-
Meaning to say he did not choose
To leave the oyster-bed.

But four young Oysters hurried up,

All eager for the treat;

There coats were brushed, their faces washed,

Their shoes were clean and neat

And this was odd, because, you know,

They hadn't any feet.