"She'll do to twirl in mazy dance, She'll do for giddy pleasure; She'll do to meet out Folly's gauds With Fashion's line and measure; "But she'll _not_ do for sacred home, A meek and gentle woman, An angel in her purity, But in her love a human." TWO MOTHERS? BY MRS. S. F. JENNINGS. A LITTLE dirty ragged boy, in the streets of New York, selling penny songs, is asked by a gentleman if he has a mother. "Neow don't—where's yourn? Does she know you're out?" he says, with that impudent _nonchalance_ which is the more pitiful because so common among that class. But the gentleman buys some of his songs, and that act is the sesame to his heart. Upon a second putting of the question, he is ready, though with the same reckless air, to answer, "No; folks don't have two mothers, do they? and mine's dead's long ago's I can remember." Two mothers? Never, little one; No merit brings such meed; God gave thee _one_—if she be gone God help thee feel thy need! For a dangerous way, stormy and wild, Thou goest, without thy mother, child. The throbbing heart of this mighty town, How beats its pulse for thee? The tide of life swells up and down The paths of this restless sea. Will they dash thy bark on the surf away, Like a straw or leaf on the ocean spray? Poor boy! for thee how ruthless time All tender ties hath riven! Thy father's love—all seared with crime; Thy mother—gone to Heaven. No brother, sister, guards the shrine, When God hath set his seal divine. Thy mother _dead_? long, long ago? No soft eye beams on thee? No kindly voice says firmly "No," To bid thy tempter flee? And snares are thick, and pitfalls deep, And the upward way is rough and steep. And thou heedest not, in thy soul's deep night, That God hath so bereft thee; And thou carest not for the trembling light Dim in thy memory left thee. God save thee from the world's sure blight! God save thee from an _endless_ night! A LOVING HEART. BY W. S. GAFFNEY. SWEETER than the sweetest flower, Brighter than the brightest gem, Richer far than Flora's bower, Art or nature's diadem— Fairer, sweeter, Purer, meeter, Is a kind and loving heart! Wealth may prove a toy caressing; Beauty's charms a world of light; But Affection is a blessing From a soul serene and bright; Kindest, purest, Best and surest, Is a faithful, loving heart! EVENING THOUGHTS. BY H. MERRAN PARKE.