Suneva, who was busy salting some fish in the cellar said. The boys brought him home to me, and I of her house, heard her name called by more than have brought him to thee, Suneva. I thought thou fifty shrill voices, in fifty different keys. would like it." She hurried upstairs, saying to herself, "It will be good news, or great news, that has come to pass, no doubt; for when ill-luck has the day, he does not call any one like that; he comes sneaking in." Her rosy face was full of smiles when she opened the door, but when she saw Margaret and Jan standing first of all. she was for a moment too amazed to speak. Margaret pointed to the wreath: "Our Jan took it from the topmast of the Arctic Bounty,'" she "Our Jan!" In those two words Margaret cancelled everything remembered against her. Suneva's eyes filled, and she stretched out both her hands to her step-daughter. "Come in, Margaret! Come in, my brave, darling Jan! Come in, boys, every one of you! There is cake, and wheat bread, and preserved fruit enough for you all; and I shall find a shilling for every boy here, who has kept Jan's triumph with him." Its smiles and sighs? Shall wood and metal and white ivory The thin, weak notes that once were rich and strong Answer the touch of love with melody, Give only now the shadow of a song The dying echo of the fuller strain That I shall never, never hear again, Unless in dreams. And thou forget? Dear one, not so. I move thee yet (though how I may not know) Beyond the skies. LYDIA HUNTLEY SIGOURNEY. PIONEER FEMALE POET OF AMERICA. RS. SIGOURNEY, was among the first, and is the most voluminous of all the early female poets of America. In fact she has been, up to this date, one of the most prolific of all the women writers of our country, having published fifty-six volumes of poetry and prose, the first appearing in 1815, and the last in 1863, fifty-eight years later. Her most successful efforts are her occasional poems, which abound in passages of earnest, well expressed thought, and exhibit in their graver moods characteristics of a mind trained by exercise in self-knowledge and self-control. Her writings possess energy and variety, while her wide and earnest sympathy with all topics of friendship and philanthropy was always at the service of those interests. Mr. Edward H. Everett in a review of Mrs. Sigourney's works declared: "They express with great purity and evident sincerity the tender affections which are so natural to the female heart and the lofty aspirations after a higher and better state of being which constitute the truly ennobling and elevating principles in art as well as in nature. Love and religion are the unvarying elements of her song. If her power of expression were equal to the purity and elevation of her habits of thought and feeling, she would be a female Milton or a Christian Pindar." Continuing he says: "Though she does not inherit The force and ample pinion that the Theban eagles bear. Sailing with supreme dominion through the liquid vaults of air,' she nevertheless manages language with an ease and elegance and that refined felicity of expression, which is the principal charm in poetry. In blank verse she is very successful. The poems that she has written in this measure have much of the manner of Wordsworth, and may be nearly or quite as highly relished by his admirers." To the above eminent critical estimate of Mrs. Sigourney's writings it is unnecessary to add further comment. The justice of the praise bestowed upon her is evinced by the fact that she has acquired a wider and more pervading reputation than many of her more modern sisters in the realm of poesy, but it is evident that, of late years, her poetry has not enjoyed the popular favor which it had prior to 1860. Lydia Huntley was the only child of her parents, and was born at Norwich, Connecticut, September 1st, 1791. Her father was a man of worth and benevolence and had served in the revolutionary struggle which brought about the independence of America. Of the precocity of the child Duyckinck says: "She could read fluently at the age of three and composed simple verses at seven, smooth in rhythm and of an invariable religious sentiment." Her girlhood life was quiet and uneventful. She received the best educational advantages which her neighborhood and the society of Madam Lathrop, the widow of Dr. Daniel Lathrop, of Hartford, could bestow. In 1814, when twenty-three years of age, Miss Huntley was induced to take a select school at Hartford, and removed to that city, where the next year, in 1815, her first book, "Moral Pieces in Prose and Verse," was published. The prose essays are introduced by the remark: "They are addressed to a number of young ladies under my care," and the writer throughout the volume seems to have had her vocation as a teacher in view. In the summer of 1819 Miss Huntley became the wife of Mr. Charles Sigourney, an educated gentleman and a merchant of Hartford. In 1822 a historical poem in five cantos, entitled "Traits of the Aborigines," was published, and about the same time a London publisher made a miscellaneous collection of her verses and published them under the title of "Lays from the West," a compliment of no small moment to an American poetess. Subsequent volumes came in rapid succession, among them being "Sketch of Connecticut Forty Years Since," "Letters to Young Ladies" and "Letters to Mothers," "Poetry for Children," "Zinzendorf and Other Poems," the last named appearing in 1836. It introduces us to the beautiful valley of Wyoming, paying an eloquent tribute to its scenery and historic fame, and especially to the missionary Zinzendorf, a noble self-sacrificing missionary among the Indians of the Wyoming Valley. The picture is a very vivid one. The poem closes with the departure of Zinzendorf from the then infant city of Philadelphia, extols him for his missionary labor, and utters a stirring exhortation to Christian union. In 1841 "Pocahontas and Other Poems was issued by a New York publisher. Pocahontas is one of her longest and most successful productions, containing fifty-six stanzas of nine lines each, opening with a picture of the vague and shadowy repose of nature as her imagination conceived it in the condition of the new world prior to its discovery. The landing at Jamestown and the subsequent events that go to make up the thrilling story of Pocahontas follow in detail. This is said to be the best of the many poetical compositions of which the famous daughter of Powhatan has been the subject. In 1840 Mrs. Sigourney made a tour of Europe, and on her return in 1842 published a volume of recollections in prose and poetry of famous and picturesque scenes and hospitalities received. The title of the book was "Pleasant Memories of Pleasant Lands." During her stay in Europe there were also published two volumes of her works in London, and tokens of kindness and esteem greeted the author from various distinguished sources. Among others was a splendid diamond bracelet from the Queen of France. Other volumes of her works appeared in 1846 and 1848. Prominent among the last works of her life was "The Faded Hope," a touching and beautiful memento of her severe bereavment in the death of her only son, which occurred in 1850. "Past Meridian" is also a graceful volume of prose sketches. Mrs. Sigourney died at Hartford, Connecticut, June 10, 1865, when seventy-three years of age. COLUMBUS. T. STEPHEN'S cloistered hall was proud A mariner with simple chart What hath he said? With frowning face, In whispered tones they speak, And lines upon their tablets trace, Which flush each ashen cheek; The Inquisition's mystic doom Sits on their brows severe, And bursting forth in visioned gloom, Courage, thou Genoese! Old Time Courage, World-finder! Thou hast need! Dark woes, and ingrate wrongs I read, On! on! Creation's secrets probe, M THE ALPINE FLOWERS. EEK dwellers mid yon terror stricken cliffs! Whence are ye? Did some white winged messenger Who bids you bloom unblanched amid the waste On Mercy's missions trust your timid germ Dare that drear atmosphere; no polar pine NIAGARA. LOW on, for ever, in thy glorious robe Keep silence--and upon thy rocky altar pour Or love, or sorrow, mid the peal sublime The morning stars, When first they sang o'er young Creation's birth, Heard thy deep anthem; and those wrecking fires, Without reproof. But as for us, it seems DEATH OF AN INFANT. EATH found strange beauty on that polished | The silken fringes of those curtaining lids |