"And Colonel Boynton, too, my liege; and all for the purpose of inducing your majesty to keep your royal word, which said, 'When Rochester's wit is seductive enough to induce his king, personally, to wait upon him three several times, or to command his presence at court, then he may return.'" "I think, my lords, I have been fairly caught," said the king, smiling, and speaking to those around him, "and to keep my word inviolate, must permit Rochester's return." "To prove that I am not ungrateful for your majesty's goodness," observed the earl, "I am prepared to produce the objects of your solicitude--Colonel Boynton and his fair daughter--they wait your royal pleasure." On the introduction of the venerable colonel and the pretty Margaret, the king whispered to Rochester, "Surely, my lord, this is not the girl I saw last night?" "No, your majesty," replied the earl, "she was a pupil of my own." Charles, in a few words, satisfied Colonel Boynton that the neglect of his faithful services had been owing entirely to misapprehension. He gave him at once a position which secured him against future reverses; nor was it long before his interesting daughter found a husband worthy of her choice. Rochester's Protean exploits afforded amusement to the court for some time. Charles bore the raillery he heard around him philosophically, and good humoredly admitted that he had been completely outwitted. LOVE THY MOTHER, LITTLE ONE. BY RICHARD COE, JR. Love thy mother, little one, Love her tenderly; Clasp thy little arms around her, For a holy tie hath bound her-- Bound her close to thee! Love thy mother, little one, Love her tenderly! Love thy mother, little one, Love her earnestly; Gaze into her eyes, and see there-- All that thou couldst hope to be there-- Warmest love for thee! Love thy mother, little one, Love her earnestly! Love thy mother, little one, Love her fervently; By thy couch she kneeleth nightly, And, with hands enclaspéd tightly, Prayeth, love, for thee! Love thy mother, little one, Love her fervently! Love thy mother, little one, Love her tenderly; Clasp thy little arms around her, For a holy tie hath bound her-- Bound her close to thee! Love thy mother, little one, Love her tenderly! THE EARLY CALLED. A SKETCH. BY MRS. FRANCES B. M. BROTHERSON. And were not these high words to flow From woman's breaking heart? Through all that night of bitterest wo She bore her lofty part; But, oh! with such a glazing eye, With such a curdling cheek-- Love, love! of mortal agony Thou--only thou shouldst speak. MRS. HEMANS. As their hearts--their way was one, And cannot be divided. JOANNA BAILLIE.