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النشر الإلكتروني

ALAMEDA.-MARY STEWART.

Written expressly for this Collection.

It was in the Californias,-beauteous, flowery, sunset land, Where the foamy, white-capped wavelets ripple on the silvery strand.

Where the soft Italian summers with their hazy, mellow glow

Are caught and held by guarding mountains that will never let them go.

I had wandered to the ocean, where I often loved to stray, Loitering there till gathering darkness sent me on my homeward way.

The sun low dipping in the water of the deep and dark blue main

Sent me back a good-night parting through a gold-reflected chain.

Long I sat and meditated on the wondrous works of God; But my reverie was broken-softest footsteps near me trod; And I looked and saw a maiden, whom my presence seemed to fright;

Scarcely could I trace her features in the pale and waning light;

She was tall and lithe and tawny, and she stood with state

ly air,

While her eyes and long black lashes matched the midnight of her hair.

Quick she turned as if departing when she saw a stranger there,

Seeming loath with bold intruders thus her solitude to share.
But a word of reassurance put her fears at once to rest,
And with woman's intuition, knew my wish before ex-

pressed;

For she told a tragic story, such as makes the blood run cold, Like the ones in wild tradition or in books of legends old: "Stranger, I am Alameda," thus her story she begun, While her face was strangely lighted by the last rays of the sun;

"Alameda I was christened when more innocent than now~ Can't you see these marks of evil? I can feel them on my brow.

There's a voice, it seems within me, ever striving to be heard, Ever threat'ning to betray me by some look or deed or word, Till I'm forced to tell my secret to some wanderer passing by, Else I'd tell it to my people -then I'd be condemned to die. Spanish pride and Indian vengeance course together through my veins,

Which you'll grant is all-sufficient to account for deepest

On the name of Alameda, I who once was pure as snow,. Ere the heat of maddening passion made me sin and fall so low.

"She and I were born together on one bright and sunny day, Cried together, laughed together, sang together in our play; With our arms about each other, tired, we lay and sweetly slept,

And our mother smiled to see us while her loving watch she kept.

Often here we've come together, strolling idly hand in hand, Gathering up the shells and pebbles, playing in the glistening sand;

Many times our feet have wandered o'er those hills among the pines,

Hunting ferns and rarest mosses, swinging gayly in the

vines.

Loved my sister? Can you doubt it? Few there be that ever know

Deeper love for one another from affection's spring to flow.
I would, oh, so freely, offer what of earth is mine to give
If Time's current could turn backward, just one hour again
to live!

66

Why are we so full of longings, ever restless, ne'er content, Though our cup be brimming over with the blessings God has sent?

Yet I never knew a sorrow till a stranger came this wayHe was tall and fair and handsome with a manner grave

yet gay,

Such a man as women worship, yet can scarcely tell you why. Yes, I loved him; you have guessed it. It were easier to die Than to break the spell that bound me, held me in its magic chain,

Till I lost control of reason, till I had a maddened brain. But it was not I that charmed him, sister had a fairer brow; 'Twas her graces brought his manhood at her shrine in love to bow.

None could know the heart's wild anguish, none could know the secret pain,

Even while I laughed the gayest, hoping still his love to gain;

But at last this hope bereft me, leaving naught but dark

despair,

Till at times the awful burden seemed too great for me to

bear,

And my soul cried out for vengeance, deepest hatred filled

my heart,

Lost to all that's pure and holy, then I planned a traitor's

part.

It was evening, just at sunset, when we took our usual stroll She with spirit gay and happy, I with fiend-exultant soul; She was singing, I remember, something soft and sweet and low,

Fell her words in gentle cadence to the ocean's ebb and flow.

Up this path we came together, climbed that tall rock on the shore,

Where we stood to watch the breakers, as we'd often stood

before;

They were curling, whirling, dashing, with a sort of hungry

greed,

'Gainst the base of our high tower, daring me to do the

deed;

Quick as thought my hand strayed outward, caught her tightly by the arm,

Pushed her o'er the awful prec'pice ere she was aware of

harm!

"Only one wild cry of horror broke upon the silence round: 'Alameda! Oh, my sister!' These the words that held me bound.

Standing like a marble statue, gazing o'er the rocky steep, There I saw the gurgling waters round my sister break and leap,

Saw her white arms raised appealing, saw her hair float on the tide,

Saw the breakers bear her onward where a chasm opened wide,

Opened wide and bore her downward to its yawning depths

below,

Then the waters closing o'er her dimmed the sun's last western glow.

Not till morning did they find her, stiff and cold, yet pale and fair,

Lying on the beach, with seaweed tangled in her bonny hair. Oh, that vision! I can see it! Never was more awful sight, Turning love to gall and wormwood, leaving on my soul a blight.

I can hear it in the tree-tops as the breezes through them sigh:

'Alameda! Oh, my sister!' Can't you hear the wailing cry? Listen to the sea's deep moaning, oh, my sister,' does it say? All the air is full of music! Don't you hear the harps that play?

'Alameda! Oh, my sister!' These the words that form the

song

Methinks it were an angel chorus echoed by a ransomed throng.

Don't you see those clouds of glory lighting up the western sky?

That's the home of dearest sister, I shall go there by and by. There she stands in robes of whiteness, beckoning to me with her hand,

Saying to me: 'Alameda, come and join our angel band, Cast your spirit on the waters, float out to me on the tide. In the fount of life that's flowing from the Saviour's riven side

You have washed and been forgiven-haste thou to me, come to-night!'

See! her arms are stretched out towards me, I must speed to take my flight!"

Thus she spoke and, turning quickly, clambered up the rocky way,

Gained the spot whereon her sister stood with her that luckless day,

Kneeling there for one brief moment in an attitude of

prayer,

Then, with hands extended outward towards some object

in the air,

Cried out: “ I am coming, sister!" ere of harm I was aware; And they found her in the morning, seaweed in her raven hair.

THAT'S BABY.

One little row of ten little toes,
To go along with a brand-new nose,
Eight new fingers and two new thumbs
That are just as good as sugar-plums-
That's baby.

One little pair of round new eyes,
Like a little owl's, so big and wise,
One little place they call a mouth,
Without one tooth, from North to South-

That's baby.

Two little cheeks to kiss all day,
Two little hands so in his way,

A brand-new head, not very big,

That seems to need a brand-new wig

That's baby.

Dear little row of ten little toes!

How much we love them nobody knows;

Ten little kisses on mouth and chin,

What a shame he wasn't a twin

That's baby.

THE TEMPERANCE SHIP.

Tossed through the dark and stormy night,
When clouds eclipsed the moon's soft light,
The shipwrecked passengers and crew
Clung to a raft, when, lo! in view,—
Revealed by the red, rising sun,
Which lit the circling horizon,—
A ship appeared, dressed in full sail,
Bounding before a prosperous gale,
When from the planks of wretchedness
Waved the sad flag of sore distress.
The lifeboat, lowered into the waves,
Rescued the men from watery graves.

How many venture out upon
The sea of life who never won
The victory of self-control,
Risking the loss of life and sou!!
Wrecked on the sea of drunkenness,
Their rags their banners of distress,
They must have sunk in shame and night
But for the Temperance Ship in sight,
And lifeboats dropped from fore and aft,
That picked them from their sinking raft.
Let praise ascend from heart and lip
In honor of the Temperance Ship.
Her snow-white canvas in the air
Is filled with the sweet breath of prayer;
Truth is the pilot at the wheel

That holds and swerves the hidden keel;
Faith is her bulwark, fixed and strong,
Though angry waves about her throng;
She sails in safety on the sea,
Bearing aloft her banner free.

Speed on, good ship! Though adverse tides
Deluge with spray thy storm-stained sides,
Thy streamers shall triumphant wave
Where'er thy mission is to save.
Sail on beneath the smiling skies;
The sun of hope begins to rise.
It is the bright dawn of the day
When light shall drive the clouds away,
And Temperance and Truth shall be
Triumphant over land and sea.

-The Banner.

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