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these were all cabbages, potatoes, and turnips.'

''Madam,' said Uncle Samuel, with look and voice stern and harsh with disgust and indignation, —‘madam ! if a hog could speak, that is just what he would say !' and turning on his heel, he walked into his store, leaving the lady to find her way out of the garden at her leisure."

It is pleasant to read such evidences of the beautiful in the life of a plain, hard-working German Pennsylvania farmer, than whom none are supposed to be more utilitarian. But there

is a

PER CONTRA.

"Beyond his love of his farm, his barn, his money, his wife, is the love of the German farmer for his horse, especially his favorite horse. One of these, who delighted in feeding up and caring for a riding horse named 'Nance,' was so unfortunate as to lose his faithful wife by death. A friend condoling with the mourning widower on the loneliness and hardships of his condition was responded to by a deep sigh and the remark, 'Yes, yes, it was a great loss; I felt almost as bad as if I had lost Nance!'"'

LINES ON AN OLD PORTRAIT.

EYES that outsmiled the mora, Behold our golden lashes, What are your fires now?

Ashes!

Cheeks that outblush the rose, White arms and snowy bust, What is your beauty now? Dust!

PLANTING THE OAK.

A PLEASANT ceremony was that we lately witnessed at the Female Department of our own Clinton School, the planting of an oak-tree by the graduating class. The day was beautiful and fair; the whole landscape which lay spread out, a noble panorama, before us, lovely as a dream, and the singing of the birds sweet as that of the young beings who were about to set up in the classic grounds of their Alma Mater a memento of the class of '65, -a memento which shall look down on the beautiful valley when the fair hands which planted it shall have been long mouldered into dust, and the daughters of other generations tread the halls where their voices are now heard.

We like this mode of perpetuating the existence of the classes which year by year say farewell to the beloved school where they have so long wrought and studied ere they go forth to take their places among the world's workers, each to fulfil her destiny in her own appointed sphere. And it has a double use. It will be a green spot to look back upon when perhaps every other shall have become arid and sear, and will, we doubt not, sometimes draw thitherward their feet, even when their steps have become tottering and feeble, and the light of their eyes dimmed. Young girls who leave the little sapling to-day, buoyant with hope and happiness, looking down the golden vista of coming years, impatient to tread its flowery paths, may, long hence, come back meek-hearted and sorrowful, to renew, beside the towering tree, the friendships of their girlhood, and bear away to their widely-severed homes new cheer for the future.

The ceremony of the planting was introduced by a prayer by our village pastor, followed by singing by the class, and an address by Dr. Sawyer. Then came the following consecrating poem written by one of the teachers and read by a pupil of the class.

THE PLANTING OF THE OAK-TREE AT CLINTON FEMALE SEMINARY BY THE CLASS OF '65. Classmates, loved classmates, how swiftly, how surely

These bright, gladsome hours are winging away!

Yet a few weeks, and we, as dear classmates, Together, no more in these loved halls will stay.

Let us, then, sisters, glance back, if but briefly, On the bright scenes, too happy to last, While we review in memory's art-gallery Pictures she's painted in three years past.

Here we recall the first formal greeting

Each gave to each when as strangers we met, Ere we had found the bright jewel, affection, Or the rich casing in which it was set. Nor can we, dear sisters, forget the two loved

ones,

Who then filled the places left vacant to-day,One whom disease has gently laid prostrate, And one, loving angels bore softly away.

Here, hand in hand, have we wandered together,

Through pleasant fields of rich mental lore, Which, like a garden, has spread out around

us

Treasures in varied and infinite store.

These treasures we all have been striving to gather,

Laying up gems that, as years onward roll, Shall bring us such increase, forever and ever, Enriching the mind and ennobling the soul.

What grateful emotions spring up into being,
Toward those who have helped all our wants

to supply!

Kind, generous patrons, true, faithful teachers,
Pointing the way as we wandered by.
How our hearts throb with love reverential
To the all-wise, the omniscient God,
Who has so richly surrounded with beauty
The pathway of knowledge in which we have
trod!

Sisters, then shall we not leave here some token,
Something that passeth not quickly away,

As a slight emblem of grateful emotions.

That fill all our hearts with such fervor today?

Here let us each some tribute deposite,

Some sweet, silent token to hallow our tree;
Bring ye, dear sisters, each one, a loved flower,
Whose language shall goodness and purity
be.

And let us, in memory of her who is absent,
This forget-me-not leave, which she so used

to love,

This evergreen wreath of the undying myrtle, For our loved angel sister, whose home is above.

Those dear, absent loved ones, oh, much do we mourn them,

And much do we miss their bright presence

to-day;

Yet she whom our Father hath called home to heaven,

Oh, how could we wish her on earth here to
stay!

She had no need for an earthly diploma;
She had no need to graduate here;

What than this oak-tree can be more befitting? God saw she was ready to join the bright an

Youthful in strength and as youthful in

years,

But endowed with endurance that time but increases,

Till in majesty crowned all its true worth

appears.

gels,

And sent them to bear her to their happy sphere.

But, sisters, our missions remain yet unended,
Let us then ever be faithful and true,
All living the lives of good, earnest Christians,
As, dying, she whispered she wished us to do.

Then, sisters, to-day, will we plant this young Soon will our pathway divide and meander,

oak-tree.

Long may it live and well may it thrive!
Firm in its strength, majestic and noble,

Be it the bright emblem of class '65.
Let it live to bespeak, in the far-distant future,
The honor and love we unitedly bear

For our loved Alma Mater, its patrons, its
teachers,

Whose protection, whose love, we're permitted to share.

Let it live to recall to the hearts left behind us Fond memories of those who help plant it today;

And who, when a few short weeks shall have ended,

Shall have finished their course and have wended away.

Let its branches, like arms in constant expansion,

Be emblems of broad, all-encircling love; While its summit, that e'er will be heavenward pointing,

Shall speak of our faith in our Father above.

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This evergreen wreath of the undying myrtle, For our loved angel sister whose home is above."

two young ladies, representing the absent and the departed, silently stepped forward and deposited the frail memorials of their love beside the others, every heart was touched and every eye was moistened.

The earth was gathered about the roots of the precious sapling and the tree was planted, when the following pretty song, written by one of the class for the occasion, was very feelingly and sweetly sung :—

Hark to thy children's fond appeal,
Happy home, our Clinton home!
Our mother love, to thee we kneel,

Happy home, our Clinton home.
In other days, in after-years,
When time the heart's affection sears,
We'll turn to thee amid our tears,

Happy home, our Clinton home.

Oh, may the tree we plant to-day,
Near our home, our Clinton home,
Stand firm, and never know decay,

By our home, our Clinton home. When younger sisters still shall strive, May this strong oak e'er keep alive Thoughts of the class of '65

Gone from home, their Clinton home.

Kind friends we're always sure to meet
In our home, our Clinton home,
Nor winter's cold, nor summer's heat
Will change our home, our Clinton home.
Here we taught to live and love,
To sow the seed that all approve;
"Twill lead us to our home above, —
Heavenly home, our heavenly home.

THE TRAVELLERS OF FORTUNE.

own color that he has had an image of Christ on the cross, which had been placed in his palace by some missionaries in 1857, painted black. Our concert-room is a shed in which fish were salted and dried. The fish have disappeared, but the smell remains. The manner in which we are remunerated is singular. There being no specie, we are paid in kind, and the king himself, having no cash, has given us engraved gourds. One of these bears his profile, and I keep it for you, as it will serve as a sugar-basin. In the last concert, which consisted of an air ::

from Anna Bolena, the duo of Norma, the drinking song of Lucrezia, the air Ah! quel plaisar d'etre soldat and the Air des Fraises, I receive for my part, three pigs, twenty-three turkeys, forty-four fowls, five thousand cocoanuts, one thousand two hundred pineapples, one hundred and twenty bushels bananas, one hundred and twenty-six pumpkins, and one thousand five hundred oranges. In France all these things would be worth about 4,000f., and 4,000f. for five airs is a pretty sum; but in this place it is not so easy to turn what we have received to account. I hear, however, that a speculator from a neighboring island is about to come here to offer us money for what we have received. Unfortunately, en attendant his arrival, I am obliged to employ my fruits and vegetables in feeding my live stock.'"

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TO AN INSECT.

AMONG the curious experiences which professional musicians are subject to, it is doubtful if I love to hear thine earnest voice, wherever any exceed in piquancy and oddity that recorded in the following little account :—

"Some musicians and theatrical singers about two years ago left France to seek their fortune, and, after many journeyings, chance took them to the Hervey Islands, part of Cook's Archipelago, in the Pacific. One of them, a lady, has just written the following curious letter to her aunt, who resides at Paris.

"The king of these islands, Makea Gusme, has three times attended our concerts. He is perfectly black, and thinks so highly of his

thou art hid,

Thou testy little dogmatist, thou pretty katydid!

Thou mindest me of gentlefolks, -old gentle

folks are they ;

Thou say'st an undisputed thing in such a sol

emn way.

Thou art a female katydid; I know it by the trill

That quivers through thy piercing notes, so petulant and shrill.

I think there is a knot of you beneath the hol- to have remarked to a confidant that he was low tree, not aware of having more than four lawyers in A knot of spinster katydids. Do katydids his dominions, and when he got home he would drink tea?

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hang two of them."

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THE

LADIES' REPOSITORY,

A

Universalist Monthly Magazine

FOR THE HOME CIRCLE.

VOLUME XXXIV.

BOSTON:

PUBLISHED BY THE N. E. U. PUBLISHING HOUSE, 87 CORNHILL.

1865.

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