-wont it be great?"

Julia could not repress a laugh even in the midst of the melancholy
thoughts which involuntarily arose in her mind during the elucidation
of John's plan of escape; she could not, however, explain the
difficulties in the way of its successful issue to the self-satisfied
expounder, and finding no other more convenient way of closing the
conversation, she told him he should have a woman's dress, with all
the necessary accompaniments.

John was delighted.

"You'll tell your father, Miss Julia, wont you? O, Lud! we'll cheat
the bloody fellows yet; I'll go and curl my hair."

Julia returned to her father's side, and silently watched the strange
sail, which was evidently drawing nearer, as her dark hull had shown
itself above the waters.

"We have but one chance of escape left," exclaimed Captain Horton; "if
we can elude them during the night, all will be well; if to-morrow's
sun find us in sight, we shall inevitably fall into their hands."

Night gradually settled over the deep, and when the twilight had
passed, and all was dark, the lights of the pirate brig were some five
miles to leeward. Her blood-red flag had been run up to the fore-peak,
as if in mockery of the prey the pirates felt sure could not escape
them--and the booming noise of a heavy gun had reached the ears of the
fugitives, as if to signal their predestined doom. Yet the calm, round
moon looked down upon the gloomy waters with the same serene
countenance that had gazed into their bosom for thousands of years,
and trod upward on her starry pathway with the same queenly pace; yet,
perchance, in her own domains contention and strife, animosity and
bloodshed were rife; perchance the sound of tumultuous war, even then,
was echoing among her mountains, and staining her streams with gore.

[_To be continued._

THE SOUL'S DREAM.

BY GEORGE H. BOKER.

Like an army with its banners, onward marched the mighty sun,
To his home in triumph hastening, when the hard-fought field was won;
While the thronging clouds hung proudly o'er the victor's bright array,
Gold and red and purple pennons, welcoming the host of day.

Gazing on the glowing pageant, slowly fading from the air,
Closed my mind its heavy eyelids, nodding o'er the world of care;
And the soaring thoughts came fluttering downward to their tranquil nest,
Folded up their wearied pinions, sinking