St. Elmo

stood Aaron Hunt's shop, shaded by a grove of oak and chestnut

as soon as the sun had set beyond the neighboring mountain. Early in winter, having an unusual amount of work on hand, Mr. Hunt hurried away from home one morning, neglecting to take the bucket which contained his dinner, and Edna was sent to repair the oversight. Accustomed to ramble about the woods without companionship, she walked leisurely along the rocky road, swinging the

e morning Th

ascendi

ll I direc

lift up

f a horse's hoofs hushed her song, and she g

I say, is there a bla

e, a spirited, beautiful ani

half a mile ahead, on the right

the forge. He was a very tall, strong man, with a gray shawl thrown over one shoulder, and a black fur hat drawn so far over his face that only the lower portion was visible; and this, swarthy and harsh, left a

hat brought me to

it. Ain't I right, Pearl? Stand back, honey, or this Satan

and called out, "How much longer

can help, as I like the

rward and throw his shawl down on the grass. Mr. Hunt pushed back his old battered woo

nable man would ask. Now, sir, if that doesn't suit you, you can take y

ined here for such a trifle as one

cious, and I could shoe two gentle

certainly exerted a magical influence over the fiery creature, who, savage as the pampered pets of Diomedes, soon stood tranquil and contented, rubbing his head against his master's shoulder.

t rider, springing to his saddle, and

ng for 'such tr

e habit of payi

h talking about

ed and walked

the shed, threw the small gold coin toward the blacksmith, and was riding rapidly a

e felt the fiery gleam of his eyes, as he stooped to take the shawl from h

spurring his horse, he wa

as Edna reentered the shop, and picked up the coin, w

u think hi

you came; and didn't you notice the vi

e never looked at me but once. I should not

won't have it after all the airs he put on. If, instead of shoeing his wild brute, I had knocked the fellow down for his insolence in cursing me, it would h

d to-day the old one was burnt out, and she could not use it any longer.

Dante, and opening it to discover the name of the owner, she saw written on the fly-leaf in a bold

this mean

pointed out the words o

lked to that devilish horse. He must have spent his life among the heathens, to judge from his talk; for he h

for it if he misse

t turn back for it if it was bound in gold instead of leather. It is no account

; and anon, when startled from sleep by these awful visions, she would soothe herself to rest by murmuring the metrical version of the Lord's Prayer contained in the "Purgatory." Most emphatically did Mrs. Hunt disapprove of the studious and contemplative habits of the ambitious child, who she averred was indulging dreams and aspirations far above her station in life, and well calculated to dissatisfy her with her humble, unpretending home and uninviting future. Education, she contended, was useless to poor people, who could not feed and clothe themselves with "book learning;

ttle Pearl, when you are smart enough to teach a school? I shall be too old to wo

ver shall have sense enough to be a teacher? You know

f the debt I owe Peter Wood, I will see what we can do about some new books. Put on your

?" She plunged her fingers in his thick white hair,

Hurry back, Pearl, I

darling stirred with the same emotions of awe and adoration which thrilled the worshipers of Hertha, when the veiled chariot stood in Helgeland, and which made the groves and grottoes of Phrygia sacred to Dindymene. Edna loved trees and flowers, stars and clouds, with a warm, clinging affection, as she loved those of her own race; and that solace and amusement which most children find in the society of children and the sports of childhood this girl derived from the solitude and serenity of nature. To her woods and fields were indeed vocal, and every flitting bird and gurgling brook, every passing cloud and whispering breeze, brought messages of God's eternal love and wisdom, and drew her tender, yearning heart more closely to Jehovah, the Lord God Omnipotent. To-day, in the boundless reverence and religious enthusiasm of her character, she directed her steps to a large spreading oak, now leafless, where in summer she often came to read and pray; and here falling on her knees she thanked God for the blessings showered upon her. Entirely free from discontent and querulousness, she was thoroughly happy in her poor humble home, and over all, like a consecration, shone the devoted love for her grandfather, which more than compensated for any want of which she might otherwise

y as I am, she ought to be glad to get home." He did not answer, and running up the steps she thought he had fallen asleep. The old woolen hat shaded his face, but when she crept on tiptoe to the chair, stooped, put her arms around him, and kissed his wrinkled chee

a! wake up! Oh, grandpa! speak to me, your little Pearl!

d dismally back from the distant hills and the gray, ghostly m

lding one of the stiffened hands folded in both hers, and pressed against her lips. She neither wept nor mo

s of the New Jerusalem. So we all trust, and prate of our faith, and deceive ourselves with the fond hope that we are resigned to the Heavenly Will; and we go on with a show of Christian reliance, while the morning sun smiles in gladness and plenty, and the hymn of happy days and the dear voices of our loved ones make music in our ears; and lo! God puts us in the crucible. The light of life-the hope of all future years is blotted out; clouds of despair and the grim night of an unbroken and unlifting desolation fall like a pall on heart and brain; we dare not look heavenward, dreading another blow; our anchor drags, we drift out into a hideous Dead Sea, where our idol has gone down forever-and boasted faith and trust and patience are swept like straws from our grasp in the tempest of woe; while our human love cries wolfishly for its lost darling. Ah! we build grand and gloomy mausoleums for our precious dead hopes, but, like Artemisia, we refuse to sepulchre-we devour the bitter ashes of the lost, and grimly and audaciously challenge Jehovah to take the worthless, mutilated life that his wisdom reserves for other aims and future toils. Job's wife is immortal and u

you were dying-here alone! Oh, my God! what have I done, that you should take him away from me? Was not I on my knees when he died? Oh! what will become of me now? Nobody t

loved voice t

sweetness, fa

ainst which yo

like a strong

t help? what m

our senses? Not f

btle count. Nay

ling Christ! and