the fan-tail'd squirrels scamper,
What are such things to me? Stupid Agriculture I like not,
Soap-making, and the science of cheese-tubs, what are they to me?
The chief end of life with these hinds and hindesses,
Is methinks, to belabor their hands, till they harden like brick-bats."

* * * * *

"Look, look, Miranda, dearest! The new moon sweetly rising
Holdeth forth her silver crescent, which the loyal stars perceiving,
Gather gladly to her banner, like a host around their sovereign.
Let us find the constellations that our good Instructor taught us.
Remember you not yesterday, when our lesson was well-render'd,
How with unwonted flattery he call'd us his Hesperus and Aurora?"

* * * * *

"These hum-drum teachings tire me, I'm disgusted with reciting
And repeating, day by day, what I knew well enough before."
Then quickening briskly her startled steed with the riding-whip,
She darted onward through the forest, reaching first their own abode.

At night, when they retired, ere the waning lamp was extinguished,
That good time for talking, when heart to heart discloseth
What the work or the pride of day, might in secrecy have shrouded,
Said Miranda,
"I have seen our early play-mate, Emilia,
From a boarding-school return'd, all accomplished, all delightful,
So changed, so improved, her best friends might scarcely know her.
Why might not I be favor'd with similar advantages?
Caged here, year by year, with wings beating the prison-door;
I would fain go where she went. If overruled I shall be wretched.
I _must_ go, Bertha, yes! No obstacle shall withhold me."

* * * * *

"Oh Miranda! Our Mother! In your company is her solace.
In your young life she liveth, at your bright smile, ever smileth,
Such power have you to cheer her. What could she do without you
When the lengthen'd eve grows lonely, and the widow sorrow presseth?"
"Oh persuade her!" she cried, with an embrace of passionate fervor,
"Persuade her, Bertha! and I'll be your bond-servant forever."

* * * * *

Seldom had a differing purpose ruffled long those sisterly bosoms.
Wakeful lay Bertha, the silent tear for her companion,
While frequent sighs swelling and heaving the snowy breast of Miranda,
Betray'd that troubled visions held her spirit in their custody.

* * * * *