eir corn between two stones; and
the crushing teeth of the hyena make the best models we know of for
hammers to break stones on the road. The tongue of certain shell
fish--of the limpet, for instance--is full of siliceous spines
which serve as rasp and drill; and knives and scissors were carried
about in the mandibles and beaks of primeval bees and parrots.

Yes, they were all there--and if the undeveloped germ may be taken for
the great fruit-bearing tree, there is nothing new under the sun, labor
and effort are of no avail, and it is not worth while for man to live
threescore years and ten, since a much less time would suffice to show
his utter worthlessness. But the bee and the wild bird, the pearly
nautilus driving before the fresh breeze, and the reed waving in the
wind, should teach us a higher lesson. They teach us that life is
beautiful and to be enjoyed, that infinite laws and infinite ingenuity
were not displayed to be called idle and vain, and that, as the insect
works according to his instinct, man should labor, from the dictates of
reason, with heart and soul to do his best to turn to higher advantage
the innumerable advantages afforded him.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 4: _Philosophia Ultima_, CHARLES WOODRUFF SHIELDS.
Philadelphia, J. B. Lippincott, 1861.]

[Footnote 5: One of the greatest inventors of this or of any age, and
one whom the world regards as 'successful,' is said to have advised an
ingenious friend, never in any case or under any circumstances to take
out a patent for an invention. He 'had been through the mill,' and knew
what it cost.]

THE LADY AND HER SLAVE.

A Tale.

LOVINGLY DEDICATED TO MY SISTERS IN THE SOUTH.

'Nor private grief nor malice holds my pen,
I owe but kindness to my fellow men.
And, South or North, wherever hearts of prayer
Their woes and weakness to our Father bear,
Wherever fruits of Christian love are found
In holy lives, to me is holy ground.'

--WHITTIER.

My young mistress! frown not on me! come! my heart is beating low!
Softly raise the quilt--my babe! Ah, smile on her ere I go!

Yes, the smile comes warm as sunshine, and it falls on my sick heart
As if Heaven were shining through it, and new hopes within me start.

Your clear eyes shine blue upon me through the clouds of sunny curls,
Sadder now, but still as kindly, as when we were little girls.

Your poor slave and you, fair mi