HER VALENTINE. 
EI-IIND the curtain in the window’s bay. 
There where the hyacinths upon the sill 
Woo the pale February suu to fill 
Each tinted calyx with the warmth of May, 
Stood Marguerite, and from a letter took 
A crimson rose, whose perfume opulent 
Cliilled with despair the hyacinths, that bent 
With deference till every petal shook. 
And to the flower there clung, with love-knot- tied, 
A tiny scroll, on which were fairly writ 
Some lines of love, or poesy, or wit, 
Or all; for, as she read, no art could hide 
The flush that fleeting pallor oft replaced, 
Naught could suppress the heaving of her breast, 
Or lull the quiver of her lips to rest. 
And these the words that on the page were traced : 
"Go to my love, dear rose, and say, and say. 
How fair her image grows from day to day. 
Tell her from me. with thy sweet breath, the last. 
How firmly Cupid's chain has boimd me fast. 
Tell her, sweet rose, oh, whisper in her ear, 
A thousand messages of hope and fear; 
All the rich incense of thy life bestow 
On lips that rival thee in garnet glow. 
Do this, my rose, and thy brief span shall be 
Not all in vain: I will remember thee 
Above all others of thy name and kin, 
And her heart, too, shall fondly take thee in. - ’ 
— Selected. 
THE HAUNTED CRUST. 
(CO.NCI.CDED). 
•Now, while Jerry stood looking at them all with that 
dreadful uncommon sharpness I told you of, which 
made him feel as if he could do anything in the world 
if he set his mind on it, he heard Nance muttering, and 
when he went to listen what she said, he found she was 
cursing him in her sleep for having married her. Jerry 
listened, and got all cold and stiff about the roots of his 
hair, and the room seemed to spin round and round 
him —beds, door, patched window, with the big yellow 
moon staring in it, and all,—all seemed to spin round ; 
and Jerry looked after the spinning beds, and then at 
the spinning moon, and wished it away. He gripped 
his awl hard and fast, and flung himself down by the 
first of the beds. Still it seemed spinning away from 
him, and he made a clutch at it with his left hand, and 
when he had got it, set his knee on it, then his left 
hand clutched a thin little shoulder, clutched it so tight 
that there was a scream, and that scream woke Nance 
and all the rest; and taking him to have come back 
with the victuals, they all set up a wailing cry for joy, 
and stretched out their hands. 
And Jerry lifted up his head and looked at the empty 
thin hands and hungry faces, and pointed to his awl, 
and said to ’em, with a great lift of his chest at every 
word,— 
“ Look here, little ’uns, its earned your bread all 
along, this yer, and if so be it can’t am your bread any 
more, can’t it—can’t it put you to—to—to sleep, little 
uns—just to sleep—only to sleep ? ” 
He laid himself down on the bed. The bright tip of 
the awl glittered, and then was hidden in the clothes. 
He pressed himself closer and closer over the child, and 
his awl was in his hand under him. There was just a 
touch—a cold, .sharp touch—on a bony chest, only a 
touch ; and it was not Jerry’s chest, yet it was Jerry 
who leaped to his feet with almost a yell, as if a sword 
had gone through him,—leaped to his feet and cleared 
the dark stairs in two splines, and rushed out of the 
house door, and away up the court, without ever a bit 
of shoe to his foot, or coat to his back, or cap to his 
head ; rushed along towards the town-end of the court 
in his shirt and ragged trousers, and bare feet, and with 
his awl in his hand; rushed as if a demon were after 
him; rushed, and once he knocked himself against a 
