Sing me a song of a lad that is gone, Say, could that lad be I? Merry of soul he sailed on a day Over the sea to Skye. Billows and breeze, islands and seas, Mountains of rain and sun, All that was good, all that was fair, All that was me is gone. Originally published in the "Pall Mall Gazette." THE DIVIDED HOUSE BY JULIA D. WHITING, Author of "The Story of Myra," "Brother Sesostris," "A special Providence," and other stories. When Selucius Huxter had arrived at his last illness, he proved himself more than ever in his life troublesome and wearing. Having a suspicion that his condition was worse than his doctor or children allowed, he gave them no peace until he had extracted an admission that such was the case. Left alone with the doctor at his request, he reproached him. "Ye might as well told me before as let me lay here thinkin' and stewin' about it. I've lost a sight of strength tryin' to git the truth from ye, and there wa'n't no need. Wall--I suppose I ain't reely dyin' naow, while I'm a-talkin', be I?" Assured as to that point, he added: "The reason I wanted to know is because I've got to fix my concerns so as to leave 'em as well as I can; and all I want of you is that when you think I'm--wall--if you see there's goin' to be a change, I want you should tell me, so's't I can straighten things right out and git their consent to it." Having promised, the doctor apprised him as the last moments drew near. "Sho! I want to know! Why, I feel full as well as I did yes'dy and a leetle grain easier, if anythin'." "I hope this notice does not find you unprepared," observed the doctor. "Wall, no; I'm prepared as much as I can be, as you may say. I've been a member in good and regular standin' this fifty-five year--and I hain't arrived at my age without seeing there's somethin' in life beside livin'." He paused, then added with an accent of pride, "I don't owe any man a cent, nor never cheated a man of one. Wall, I've had quite a spell to think of things in, durin' my sickness, and I don't know but what I've enjoyed it considerable. Thought of things all along back to when I was a boy. Events come up that I'd clean forgot." The doctor gone, he called his children in. "Wall, Armidy, wall, Lucas, the doctor don't seem to think I shall tucker it out much longer. Wall, naow," he exclaimed, quite vexed, "I vow for't if I didn't forgit to ask him how long! Wall, too late naow. He's got out of sight, I s'pose." Armida stepped to the window, and assured him of the fact. "Wall, no gret matter. I jist thought if I could git him to fix the time I'd like to see how nigh he'd hit it.