"I knew it was a good one," said Mr. Mortis, calmly. "It's one Governor Skyward made ten year ago. There wasn't any use of me trying to get up a better one, so I took his'n. Guess I made everybody on the green hear it." That was precisely what he had done for the great speech of Governor Skyward, and it was more than anybody else had ever done for that crowd. As for the boys, they had won the day. That is, they had kept it from the very minute it began--only there was no dead elm-tree left in the middle of the green. "There'll be heaps of public spirit in Kerim after this," said Squire Garnsey to the other trustees; but they all shook their heads very solemnly, and made no reply. CHERRIES. BY EMILY HUNTINGTON MILLER. Who can tell how cherries grow, From the blossoms' fragrant snow; From the balls of green that hide Under glossy leaves, spread wide, Till they glisten, every one, Red as rubies in the sun; Swelling, warming, till they shine, Filled with summer's rosy wine? Five little babes in a basket, Up on a swinging bough: "Open your mouths," said the mother, "Here is a feast for you now." Mother and babies think it prime That cherries ripen in robin-time. Five curly heads at a window, Watching the merry crew: "Don't you wish we were birds in a nest, So we could have some too? Wings are better than legs to climb, And robins are thickest in cherry-time." [Begun in HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE No. 87, June 28.] AUNT RUTH'S TEMPTATION. BY MRS. JOHN LILLIE. CHAPTER II. The final morning arrived at last, and as I drove away in papa's gig all the children crowded the gateway, and Winifred, in their midst, strained her eyes to see the last of me, and smile and wave a good-by. Mrs. Ludlow's brother-in-law was to meet me at the station: he was on his way from Albany to New York, and had agreed to look out for me at C----, as the train passed through our town. The cars had hardly stopped, when a tall young man appeared on the platform, and was soon shaking hands with my father. "I haven't seen you since you were a boy," my father said; "but I don't see that you have changed much. Now, Mr. Ludlow, will you take charge of my little girl?" Mr. Ludlow declared himself well pleased to do so, and he was so genial and good-humored that I quickly got over the sudden shyness which had taken possession of me, and in half an hour I felt as if I had known him all my life. He seemed a little old, it is true; he was twenty-eight, and he had a dark, handsome face, with bright eyes and a merry laugh. I was perfectly astonished when I heard he was preparing to be a clergyman. I was soon chatting comfortably with him, and had told him all about our home and the boys, and Winny and my father, and how delighted I was to go to New York. "And is Winny the housekeeper?" Mr. Ludlow asked. He knew that mamma was dead.