Drawing aside the curtain of leaves he looked in. The interior was a garden, but evidently in a neglected state. It appeared the ruin of a once noble garden and shrubbery. Broken fountains and statues crumbling among weeds, and untrained rose-trees, met the eye. The voices were more distinct, but those who uttered them were hidden by a hedge of jessamines. Rolfe stepped silently up to this hedge and peeped through an opening. The picture presented was indeed an enchanting one. A large fountain lay between him and the house filled with crystal water. In this fountain two young girls were plunging and diving about in the wildest abandon of mirth. The water was not more than waist deep, and the arms and bosoms of the young girls appeared above its surface. They were strikingly alike, in all except color. In this there was a marked contrast. The neck, arms and bosom of one seemed carved from snow-white marble, while the other's complexion was almost as dark as mahogany. There was the same cast of features, the same expression in both countenances, and their forms, just emerging from the slender figure of girlhood, were exactly alike. Their long hair trailed after them, black and luxuriant, on the surface of the water, as they plunged and swam from one side of the basin to the other. A huge negress sat upon the edge of the fountain, seemingly enjoying the bath as much as those who partook of it. It was the voice of this negress that Rolfe had mistaken for that of a man. The young officer did not hesitate a moment, but stole gently back and regained his comrades. Then striking through the flowery fields that stretched away toward the wood in the rear, he commenced searching for the path that led from the woods in a direction opposite to that whence he had come, without disturbing the inmates of this peaceful mansion. Finding this path on the other side, the party entered and hastily kept on, in order to intercept the guerilleros, whom they still hoped to fall in with. In these hopes they were not disappointed, for emerging from the woods near Medellin they came upon the guerilleros, with whom they had a sharp skirmish. Rolfe and his party were successful, killing two of the guerrilla and taking the same number prisoners. The young girls continued their pleasant pastime, little dreaming how near to them had been these strange and warlike visiters. I WANT TO GO HOME BY RICHARD COE, JR. "I want to go home!" saith a weary child, That hath lost its way in straying; Ye may try in vain to calm its fears, Or wipe from its eyes the blinding tears, It looks in your face, still saying-- "I want to go home!" "I want to go home!" saith a fair young bride, In anguish of spirit praying; Her chosen hath broken the silver cord-- Hath spoken a harsh and cruel word, And she now, alas! is saying-- "I want to go home!"