The Horseman bounded from his horse, Without a word the tools he grasped; And in a twinkling planked the boat, The rudder in the stern set fast. “See, now, old friend, thy boat’s all right! Out on the water boldly set; And, in the name of Peter’s luck, Cast forth into the deep thy net.” He vanished. Mused the stern old man: “I wonder who the de’il was he! In every inch he looked a king, But plied the hatchet splendidly.” _THE EASTER KISS._[8] Soon “the Sun-bright Feast-day” cometh, I will claim my Easter kiss. Others, then, will stand around us; Pray, my Dora, mark you this! Just as if I never kissed you, Blushing red before the rest, _You_ must kiss, with downcast eyelids; _I_ will kiss, with smile represt. FOOTNOTES: [8] It is the custom in Russia for all friends meeting on Easter morning (known as “Sun-bright Feast-day”) to exchange kisses three times in the name of the Trinity. _ON LOMONOSSOEF._[9] God chose him from his earliest years; Revealed, ’mid glittering icebergs stood, In northern light, in gleam of stars, In roar of wave, in hum of wood, And bade him leave his Fisher’s net, And led him forth from town to town, That “Rus”[10] to him from gloomy cot To sparkling palace, might be known; And led him to famed Western climes, That there his genius might obtain All knowledge, from the earliest times Made known to mighty chosen men; That, from their torch of knowledge, he Might light his own, and, with right hand Uplifted high that all might see, Illume with it his native land. FOOTNOTES: [9] Lomonossoef--the first great Russian scholar--was the son of an Archangel fisherman. [10] Ancient name of Russia. _PROPRIETY._ Ferdinand, the King, was courtly! Pink of nice refinement he; All the naked plasts of Venus, Placed he under lock and key. But the Herculean statues, Left he in their places bare! Men he did not mind offending; Hurt the ladies? He’d not dare! _THE SINGER._ Beautiful I’m not, I know; Useless I in fight; How to men and maids am I, Such a dear delight? Songs, like sounds that ’mid strings stray, Fill this breast of mine, Smiling round my lips they play, In my eyes they shine! _A LITTLE PICTURE._ AFTER THE PROCLAMATION OF THE 19TH FEB., 1861, FREEING THE SERFS. See, in peasant’s cottage, flickering Shines a little fire, Where, around a little maiden, Draws a circle nigher. And from word to word her finger Slowly pointing leads, As, with effort, to the peasants She a paper reads. Deep in thought, intently listening, They a silence keep; Save when some one bids the women Hush the babes to sleep.