A crown it is a hollow thing, and hollow heads oft wear it ; The hollow friend who takes your hand, is but a summer swallow; Whate'er I see is like this tree,-all HOLLOW, HOLLOW, HOLLOW! -Anonymous. MY FATHER'S AT THE HELM. THE curling waves with awful roar And pallid fear's distracting power Save one-the captain's darling child, "And fear'st thou not," a seaman cried, Thus when our worldly hopes are reft, He to our cries will lend an ear: He turns to smiles each trembling tear Then turn to Him, 'mid terrors wild, Rememb'ring, like the fearless child, OUR FATHER'S AT THE HELM.-Anonymous. TOPSY. SHE was one of the blackest of her race, and her round, shining eyes, glittering like glass beads, moved with quick and restless glances over everything in the room. Her mouth, half open with astonishment at the wonders of the new mas'r's parlour, displayed a white and brilliant set of teeth. Her wooly hair was braided in sundry little tails, which stuck out in every direction. The expression of her face was an odd mixture of shrewdness and cunning, over which was oddly drawn, like a kind of veil, an expression of the most doleful gravity and solemnity. She was dressed in a ragged garment, made of bagging; and stood with her hands demurely folded before her. Miss Ophelia, turning to St. Clare, said, "Augustine, what can you have brought that thing here for?" "For you to educate, to be sure. I thought she was rather a funny specimen. Here, Topsy," he added, giving a whistle, as a man would call the attention of a dog, "Give us a song now, and shew us some of your dancing." The black, glassy eyes glittered with a kind of wicked drollery, and Topsy struck up, in a clear, shrill voice, an odd negro melody, to which she kept time with her hands and feet, spinning round, clapping her hands, knocking her knees together, in a wild, fantastic sort of time, and producing in her throat all those odd guttural sounds which distinguish the native music of her race; finally, turning a somersault or two, and giving a prolonged closing note, as odd and unearthly as that of a steam-whistle, she came suddenly down on the carpet, and stood with her hands folded, and an expression of meekness and solemnity over her face, only broken by the cunning glances which she shot askance from the corners of her eyes. St. Clare said,— "Topsy, this is your new mistress. I'm going to give you up to her; see, now, that you behave yourself." "Yes, mas'r," said Topsy, with a perfect gravity, her wicked eyes twinkling as she spoke, and her hands devoutly folded. "Now, Augustine, what is this for?" said Miss Ophelia. Why did you bring her here?" "For you to Educate. Didn't I tell you? You're always talking about educating. I thought I would make you a present of a fresh-caught specimen, and let you try your hand on her!" Miss Ophelia carried Topsy to the kitchen regions, but she soon saw there was nobody that would undertake to oversee the cleansing and dressing of the new arrival; and so she was forced to do it herself, with some very ungracious and reluctant assistance from Jane. When arrayed at last in a suit of decent and whole clothing, and her hair cropped short, Miss Ophelia, with some satisfaction, said she looked more Christian-like than formerly, and in her own mind began to mature some plans for her instruction. Sitting down before her, she began to question her. "How old are you, Topsy?" 66 Dunno, missus," said the image, with a grin that shewed all her teeth. "Don't you know how old you are? Did nobody ever tell you? Who was your mother?" "Never had none!" said the child, with another grin. "Never had any mother? What do you mean? Where were you born?" "Never was born!" persisted Topsy, with another grin,— never had no father nor mother, nor nothin'. Old Aunt Sue used to take car on us." "How long have you lived with your master and mistress?" "Dunno, missus." "Is it a year, or more, or less?" 66 Dunno, missus." "Do you know who made you?" 66 Nobody, as I knows on," said the child; "I 'spect I growed. Don't think nobody ever made me." "Do you know how to sew?" said Miss Ophelia, who thought she would turn her inquiries to something more tangible. "No missus." "What can you do?-what did you do for your master and mistress?" "Fetch water, wash dishes, rub knives, and wait on folks." Topsy was soon a noted character in the establishment. Her talent for every species of drollery, grimace, and mimicry for dancing, tumbling, climbing, singing, whistling, imitating every sound that hit her fancy-seemed inexhaustible. In her play-hours she invariably had every child in the establishment at her heels, open-mouthed with admiration and wonder. With a few lessons, she had learned the proprieties of Miss Ophelia's chamber. Hands could not lay a coverlet smoother, adjust pillows more accurately, sweep, and dust, and arrange more perfectly, than Topsy, when she chose-but she didn't very often choose. If Miss Ophelia was so sanguine as to suppose that Topsy had at last fallen into her way, could do without overlooking, and so go off and busy herself about something else, Topsy would hold a perfect carnival of confusion for some one or two hours. Instead of making the bed, she would amuse herself with pulling off the pillow-cases, butting her woolly head among the pillows, till it would be grotesquely ornamented with feathers sticking out in various directions; she would climb the posts and hang head downward from the tops, flourish the sheets and coverlets all over the apartment, dress the bolster up in Miss Ophelia's nightclothes, singing, and whistling, and making grimaces at herself in the looking-glass; in short, as Miss Ophelia phrased it, "raising Cain" generally. On one occasion, Miss Ophelia found Topsy with her very best scarlet India shawl wound round her head for a turban, going on with her rehearsals before the glass in great style-"Topsy!" she would say, when at the end of all patience, "what does make you act so?" "Dunno, missus-I 'spects 'cause I 'se so wicked!" "I don't know what I should do with you, Topsy." "Oh, missus, you must whip me; my old missus allers whipped me. I an't used to workin' unless I gets whipped." "Why, Topsy, I don't want to whip you. You can do well, if you 've a mind to; what is the reason you won't?" "Oh, missus, I's used to whippin'; I 'spects it's good for Miss Ophelia tried the recipe, and Topsy invariably made a terrible commotion, screaming, groaning, and imploring; though half an hour afterwards, when roosted on some projection of the balcony, and surrounded by a flock of " uns," she would express the utmost contempt of the whole affair.-Mrs. H. B. Stowe. young THE GRAVES OF A HOUSEHOLD. THEY grew in beauty side by side, The same fond mother bent at night She had each folded flower in sight- One, 'midst the forests of the West, The sea, the blue lone sea, hath one,— One sleeps where southern vines are dressed He wrapped his colours round his breast, And one-o'er her the myrtle showers And, parted thus, they rest who played They that with smiles lit up the hall, Alas for love, if thou wert all, And nought beyond, oh earth !-Mrs. Hemans. THE GLUTTONOUS DUCK. A DUCK once had got such a habit of stuffing, One day, after eating a plentiful dinner, With full twice as much as there should have been in her,Whilst up to the eyes in a gutter a-roking She was greatly alarmed by the symptoms of choking! |