ame to a "cross-road" leading
to the turnpike. In a few minutes we arrived at "Cold Spring," where a
little streak of water ran through a hollowed log, green with moss,
from the fountain a short distance in the forest, and fell into a
pebbly basin at the road-side. We here refreshed ourselves with
repeated draughts of the sweet, limpid element, and then, resuming our
walk, soon found ourselves upon the broad, gray turnpike, with the
village upon the summit of the hill, about half a mile in front.

The sun had long since plunged into the slate-colored haze of the
West; the thickening landscape looked dull and faded; the mist was
glimmering before the darkened forests; the cows were wending
homeward, lowing; the woodsmen passed us with axes on their shoulders;
and, mounting the hill, we saw here and there, a light sparkling in
the village, following the example of the scattered stars that were
timidly glancing from the dome of the purpled heavens.

THE LOST PET

BY MRS. LYDIA H. SIGOURNEY.

[SEE ENGRAVING.]

When Mary's brother went to sea,
He lingered near the door,
Beside the old, familiar tree,
He ne'er had left before,

And though gay boyhood loves to seek
New regions where to tread,
A pearl-drop glittered on his cheek
As tenderly he said--

"The gentle dove I reared with care,
Sister, I leave to thee,
And let it thy protection share
When I am far at sea."

Whene'er for Willy's loss she grieved,
His darling she caressed,
That from her hand its food received,
Or nestled in her breast;

And sometimes, at the twilight dim,
When blossoms bow to sleep,
She thought it murmuring asked for him
Whose home was on the deep.

And if her mother's smile of joy
Was lost in anxious thought,
As memories of her sailor-boy
Some gathering tempest wrought,

She showed his pet, the cooing dove,
Perched on her sheltering arm,
And felt how innocence and love
Can rising wo disarm.

When summer decked the leafy bowers,
And pranked the russet plain,
She bore his cage where breathing flowers
Inspired a tuneful strain;

And now and then, through open door,
Indulged a wish to roam,
Though soon, the brief excursion o'er,
The wanderer sought its home.

She laughed to see it brush the dew
From bough and budding spray.
A