he front windows, and a whole
company followed him through, and they dradged hose around, and mussed
things all over the house, and then the foreman wanted to thrash me
because the house was not on fire, and I had hardly got him pacified
before a policeman came in and arrested me. Some one had run down and
told him I was drunk and was killing Maria. It was all Maria and I
could do, by combining our eloquence, to prevent him from marching
me off in disgrace, but we finally got matters quieted and the house
clear.

Now when mice run out of the cupboard I go outdoors, and let Maria
"shoo" them back again. I can kill a mouse, but the fun don't pay for
the trouble.

THE DYING HEBREW.

KIMBIE.

The following poem, a favourite with the late Mr. Edwin
Forrest, was composed by a young law student, and first
published in Boston in 1858.

A Hebrew knelt in the dying light,
His eye was dim and cold;
The hairs on his brow were silver white,
And his blood was thin and old!
He lifted his look to his latest sun,
For he knew that his pilgrimage was done;
And as he saw God's shadow there,
His spirit poured itself in prayer!
"I come unto death's second birth
Beneath a stranger air,
A pilgrim on a dull, cold earth,
As all my fathers were!
And men have stamped me with a curse,
I feel it is not Thine;
Thy mercy, like yon sun, was made
On me, as them, to shine;
And therefore dare I lift mine eye
Through that to Thee before I die!
In this great temple, built by Thee,
Whose pillars are divine,
Beneath yon lamp, that ceaselessly
Lights up Thine own true shrine,
Oh take my latest sacrifice--
Look down and make this sod
Holy as that where, long ago,
The Hebrew met his God.
I have not caused the widow's tears,
Nor dimmed the orphan's eye;
I have not stained the virgin's years,
Nor mocked the mourner's cry.
The songs of Zion in mine ear
Have ever been most sweet,
And always, when I felt Thee near,
My shoes were off my feet.
I have known Thee in the whirlwind,
I have known Thee on the hill,
I have loved Thee in the voice of birds,
Or the music of the rill;
I dreamt Thee in the shadow,
I saw Thee in the light;
I blessed Thee in the radiant day,
And worshiped Thee at night.
All beauty, while it spoke of Thee,
Still made my soul rejoice,
And my spirit bowed within itself