204 



RECREA TION. 



All of the party were at the station the 

 next day, to say good-by to Belle, and to 

 Richard, for he went with her. They took 

 no jam with them; but the next autumn 

 they received several jars, together with 

 more expensive presents. 



At East Saugus, people still relate won- 



derful tales, until they become traditions, 

 of the charming city girl, a real belle, who 

 reigned among them for a space, and who 

 was the heroine of an interesting, though 

 not fully understood, love story, and of her 

 real, indisputable meeeting with a bear," on 

 Burnt mountain. 



A BOATING SONG. 



E. W. MASON. 



Lazily dip our quiet oars 

 As we steal away from the silent shores 

 That erst have rung with notes of glee, 

 And re-echoed our heart-felt revelry. 

 Slumbers the wave, but wherever the blade 

 Reluctant a lingering plunge has made, 

 Its path is with flashes of pearl-foam dight, 

 And the sleeping billow springs into light." 



E'en thus from the slumbering past, of thee 



Arises a gleam of memory; 



And the meanest sights have power to 



bring 

 Thy form to my nightly imagining: 

 Sittest thou now — 'tis the hour of love — 

 On the rock-worked couch in the orange 



grove, 



Where from shrub to shrub, with their tiny 



light 

 The fire flies flit through the perfumed 



night. 



O then, when drifts the moon's pale beam 

 Through trellised boughs on yon murmur- 

 ing stream 

 And calmly white the effulgence rests 

 On the black rough stones, midst the flash- 

 ing crests, 

 Think but of me, as away we glide 

 And skim the green sea's quiet tide, 

 And swiftly dip our sparkling oars 

 As we dart from the shade of the silent 

 shores! 



DEAD BROKE. 



Break, break, break 



On thy white-shelled beach, O sea! 

 But you'll never be half so broke (no joke!) 



As the hotel bill made me! 



O well for the bathing suit boy 



That he shouts when the waves are at 

 play! 

 O well for the sailor lad, 



For he has no hotels to pay! 



And the stately ships go down 



To the haven under the hill; 

 But O for a check on a river bank 



That could settle a hotel bill! 



— Atlanta Constitution. 



