“Ah, yes!” cried Count Hugo, who at that moment appeared among the trees, bearing a pitcher of water, which he let fall hastily as he rushed forward to seize her hand. “Loveliest Franzchen! have you not long seen how I delight in your society, and how miserable I should be without you! It is, indeed, your permission I wait for! Will you not grant it?” Magda quietly descended after the pitcher, which had been rolling down the sloping ground in a most perilous manner, while the count poured forth such a torrent of persuasion and beseeching looks, that before the bewildered little Franzchen well knew what she was about, she had granted the desired permission, and allowed him to cover her hand with kisses, in gratitude therefor. But although she had consented rather hastily, yet, on recovering her senses, and considering the matter, she did not feel inclined to retract; and her first thought on the following morning was, “How glad I am Count Hugo is going with us.” * * * * * Great was the triumph of the baroness, when she heard that the count was to accompany her guests; but immense was her astonishment and disappointment, when she discovered that it was as the declared suitor, not of Magdalene, but of Franzchen; and severe would have been the upbraidings which her niece would have had to bear, for not acquainting her sooner with the true state of things, had not Count Hugo, before their departure, earnestly thanked her for the great kindness and discretion with which she had discerned his feelings, and aided him in seeking the society of her young friends. Whereupon, she thought it best to conceal her dissatisfaction, under the pretence of great penetration. And, after all she thought, Baron Logrum is richer than the count, and evidently admires Magda greatly; and so—and so— And so ended the visit to Radgardin. * * * * * THE POET’S CHOICE. BY RICHARD COE. “Standing now before thee, Colin, Are my coz and I; Tell me truly, now, dear Colin, While we’re waiting by, Which the prettier of the twain, My sweet coz or I? “See my locks so bright and golden, Braided o’er my brow; See mine eyes so blue and heavenly, And my pretty mou’, And my teeth of pearly whiteness, Fairer none I vow? “See my cousin’s locks of raven, On her brow so white, And her gentle features graven With a calm delight! Do not fear mine anger, Colin, But decide aright.” Colin stood awhile uncertain, Then he made reply— “Fair to me thy locks so golden, Beautiful thine eye; Pearly teeth so white and even Ne’er before saw I!