, and I have
thought well of you. Don't you remember how we used to go sassafrasing
with each other?"

"Yes, Obed."

"And looking for Indian-pipe when we were not looking for anything?"

"Yes."

"And picking blue gentians in the old cranberry meadows?"

"Yes."

"And listening to the bluebirds when the maples were red; and to the
martin birds when the apple-trees were in bloom; and to the red robins,
and all?"

"Yes, yes."

"And we used to sing out of the same book on Sundays."

"Yes."

"You remember; I do. Eliza, I want you to make me one promise."

"I always thought well of you, Obed. I would die for you."

"I am going away, and I shall die for the cause. Some day the news will
come back to ye that I am dead; that I fell on the field somewhere. I do
not know where it will be. Will you forgive me, then, for being a coward
on that Halloween night when I was a boy and you was a girl? Promise me
that now."

"I forgave you long ago. I believe you to be a brave, true-hearted man,
Obed. I think the world of you."

"But you don't _know_ that I am not a coward. You will know. You will
forgive all, then?"

"Yes; there is nothing between us now."

"'Yes,' you say. That word is all that I desire in this world. I am now
ready to go."

He fell fighting bravely at Monmouth. Then English Eliza for the first
time told the story of the midnight ride on Halloween, and what it was
that Obed saw, and she added in tears,

"_But_ he was a brave man, Obed was!"

HER FIRST SEA VIEW.

She walked across the glistening sands,
Beneath the morning skies,
With tangled sea-weed in her hands,
And sunshine in her eyes.

Far off--as far as she could see--
The snowy surges beat,
And once--she laughed delightedly--
The water kissed her feet.

She tossed her pretty curly head--
Her lips, half-open buds--
"It's mermaids' washing-day," she said;
"The sea is full of suds!"

Then part in glee, and part in doubt,
And wholly in surprise,
She added, "When the wash is out,
I wonder how it dries?"

MARTHA T. TYLER.

HOW TO FIND AND MOUNT SIGNETS.

[Illustration: SCARABAEUS.]

There is nothing prettier or more attractive, hanging on the walls of
one's parlor or chamber, than a group of signet impressions in
sealing-wax of various colors, artistically arranged and handsomely
mounted; while the pleasure to be derived in seeking them is quite as
keen as that