the quick wheeze
Of her chest, saw the stretched neck and staggering knees,
And sunk tail, and horrible heave of the flank,
As down on her haunches she shuddered and sank.

So we were left galloping, Joris and I,
Past Looz and past Tongres, no cloud in the sky;
The broad sun above laughed a pitiless laugh;
'Neath our feet broke the brittle bright stubble like chaff;
Till over by Delhem a dome-spire sprung white,
And "Gallop," gasped Joris, "for Aix is in sight!

"How they'll greet us!" and all in a moment his roan
Rolled neck and croup over, lay dead as a stone;
And there was my Roland to bear the whole weight
Of the news which alone could save Aix from her fate,
With his nostrils like pits full of blood to the brim,
And with circles of red for his eye-sockets' rim.

Then I cast loose my buff-coat, each holster let fall,
Shook off both my jack-boots, let go belt and all,
Stood up in the stirrup, leaned, patted his ear,
Called my Roland his pet name, my horse without peer--
Clapped my hands, laughed and sung, any noise, bad or good,
Till at length into Aix, Roland galloped and stood.

And all I remember is friends flocking round,
As I sate with his head twixt my knees on the ground;
And no voice but was praising this Roland of mine
As I poured down his throat our last measure of wine,
Which (the burgesses voted by common consent)
Was no more than his due who brought good news from Ghent.

ROBERT BROWNING.

A HERO.

(_A STORY OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION._)

They were sitting by the great blazing wood-fire. It was July, but
there was an east wind and the night was chilly. Besides, Mrs. Heath
had a piece of fresh pork to roast. Squire Blake had "killed" the
day before--that was the term used to signify the slaughter of any
domestic animal for food--and had distributed the "fresh" to various
families in town, and Mrs. Heath wanted hers for the early breakfast.
Meat was the only thing to be had in plenty--meat and berries. Wheat
and corn, and vegetables even, were scarce. There had been a long
winter, and then, too, every family had sent early in the season all
they could possibly spare to the Continental army. As to sugar and tea
and molasses, it was many a day since they had had even the taste of
them.

The piece of pork was suspended from the ceiling by a stout string,
and slowly revolved before the fire, Dorothy or Arthur giving it a
fresh star