re blanks than
prizes; but their life is a life for a man, and though it makes them
prematurely old, yet their old age comes peacefully and well. In almost
all pursuits the advance of years brings something forlorn. It is not
merely that the body decays, but that men grow isolated and are pushed
aside; there is no common interest between age and youth. The old
farmer leads a lonely existence, and ceases to meet his compeers except
on Sunday; nobody consults him; his experience has been monotonous, and
his age is apt to grow unsocial. The old mechanic finds his tools and
his methods superseded by those of younger men. But the superannuated
fisherman graduates into an oracle; the longer he lives, the greater
the dignity of his experience; he remembers the great storm, the great
tide, the great catch, the great shipwreck; and on all emergencies his
counsel has weight. He still busies himself about the boats too, and
still sails on sunny days to show the youngsters the best
fishing-ground. When too infirm for even this, he can at least sun
himself beside the landing, and, dreaming over inexhaustible memories,
watch the bark of his own life go down.

THE HAUNTED WINDOW.

It was always a mystery to me where Severance got precisely his
combination of qualities. His father was simply what is called a
handsome man, with stately figure and curly black hair, not without a
certain dignity of manner, but with a face so shallow that it did not
even seem to ripple, and with a voice so prosy that, when he spoke of
the sky, you wished there were no such thing. His mother was a fair,
little, pallid creature,--wash-blond, as they say of lace,--patient,
meek, and always fatigued and fatiguing. But Severance, as I first knew
him, was the soul of activity. He had dark eyes, that had a great deal
of light in them, without corresponding depth; his hair was dark,
straight, and very soft; his mouth expressed sweetness, without much
strength; he talked well; and though he was apt to have a wandering
look, as if his thoughts were laying a submarine cable to another
continent, yet the young girls were always glad to have the semblance
of conversation with him in this. To me he was in the last degree
lovable. He had just enough of that subtile quality called genius,
perhaps, to spoil first his companions, and then himself. His words had
weight with you, though you might know yourself wiser; and if you went
to give him the most reasonable advic