A score of fine crabs "All alive" he had bought her : Half-a-catty of shrimps Just fresh from the water. These he carefully took in his hands; but the restA large water-melon-he tucked in his breast. He was just going out of the door When he tripped, and down he came sprawling; He sat up, and there on the floor Were the shrimps and crabs, skipping and crawling! The powder all scattered! Flowers crumpled and battered! Off crawled the crabs overjoyed to be free! Away hopped the shrimps in the height of their glee! SNOW IN SUMMER.1 HER eyes flashed fire, her bosom heaved and swelled; The hot red blood face, neck, and brow suffused, As she with scorn indignantly repelled The awful charge of which she stood accused. ""Tis a base lie,-a plot,-a vile conspiracy! "Think you these hands could wield a murderer's knife? (Are they not baby-like? so soft and small?) Could they give poison,—take away a life? A mother's too! oh! that were worse than all ! 1 Tou-o was a girl who had been falsely accused of poisoning her mother-in-law. She was sentenced to death, conveyed to the execution ground, and awaiting the blow of the headsman, when Heaven interposed in her behalf; for, it being then the height of mid-summer, a heavy fall of snow came on. This was looked upon as a sign of her innocence and she was at once released. "You that have daughters, pause ere you condemn ; Fancy them torn from home,—from all held dear! Young, beautiful-oh! try to picture them, Guiltless of crime, but-like me standing here. "I'm innocent! your sentence is unjust ! Pale and resigned she knelt upon the ground, With bended head beneath that glaring sun The sword is raised-when, strange phenomenon! Judge, guards, and executioner stood aghast, While every head in reverence was bent Before the girl,—the snow flakes falling fast Mutely proclaiming she was innocent. CHANG-LIANG'S FLUTE, OR HOME SICKNESS. 'Twas night-the tired soldiers were peacefully sleeping, The low hum of voices was hushed in repose; The sentries in silence a strict watch were keeping, 'Gainst surprise, or a sudden attack of their foes. When a low mellow note on the night air came stealing, So touchingly sweet-so soft and appealing, Now rising, now falling-now fuller and clearer- Now dying away in a whispering sigh. Fêng-ling, wind bells, or more commonly called Tich-ma, iron horses, though in reality there is a great difference between the two, Feng-ling being bell-shaped, while the Tieh-ma are flat and of various shapes, but always having a piece cut out from the centre, without which they would not sound. These bells are suspended from the eaves at the corners of pagodas or temples, and when the wind blows produce a very sweet but melancholy sound. Then a burst of sweet music so plaintively thrilling, The sleepers arouse and with beating hearts listen, In their dreams they had heard that weird music before; It touches each heart-with tears their eyes glisten, For it tells them of those they may never see more. In fancy those notes to their childhood's days brought them, them, And the eyes of those stern men became wet with tears. Bright visions of home through their mem'ries came throng ing, Panorama-like passing in front of their view; They were home-sick, no power could withstand that strange longing, The longer they listened, the more home-sick they grew. 1 Ying-shêng. The responding sound, or oftener perhaps huihsiang. |