t, in the name of my poor mother dear,
For the day lost, take father on at last."

The father heard, o'erwhelmed he was with fear,
Abel now saw him, felt that he was near,
Inclined his head upon his breast, and praying--
Hand held in hand, he smiled on him while dying.

For Hilary, his place was well preserved,
His wages might perhaps be doubled.

Too late! too late! one saddened morn
The sorrow of his life was gone;
And the good father, with his pallid face,
Went now to take another place
Within the tomb, beside his much loved son.

Endnotes to THE MASON'S SON.

{1} Jasmin says, "the subject of this poem is historical, and recently
took place in our neighbourhood."

THE POOR MAN'S DOCTOR.

{LOU MEDICI DES PAURES.}

Dedicated to M. CANY, Physician of Toulouse.

With the permission of the Rev. Dr. J. Duncan Craig, of Glenagary,
Kingston, Dublin, I adopt, with some alterations, his free translation
of Jasmin's poem.

Sweet comes this April morning, its faint perfumes exhaling;
Brilliant shines the sun, so crisp, so bright, so freshening;
Pearl-like gleam and sparkle the dew-drops on the rose,
While grey and gnarled olives droop like giants in repose.

Soundeth low, solemnly, the mid-day bell in th' air,
Glideth on sadly a maiden sick with care;
Her head is bent, and sobbing words she sheds with many a tear,
But 'tween the chapel and the windmill another doth appear.

She laughs and plucks the lovely flowers with many a joyous
bound,
The other, pale and spiritless, looks upward from the ground;
"Where goest thou, sweet Marianne, this lovely April day?"
"Beneath the elms of Agen--there lies my destined way.

"I go to seek this very day the Doctor of the Poor.{1}
Did'st thou not hear how skilfully he did my mother cure?
Behold this silver in my hand, these violets so sweet,
The guerdon of his loving care--I'll lay them at his feet.

"Now, dost thou not remember, my darling Marianne,
How in our lonely hut the typhus fever ran?
And we were poor, without a friend, or e'en our daily bread,
And sadly then, and sorrowful, dear mother bowed her head.

"One day, the sun was shining low in lurid western sky,
All, all, our little wealth was gone, and mother yearned to die,
When sudden, at the open door, a shadow crossed the way,
And cheerfully a manly voice did words of comfort say:

"'Take