As they met Miss Dudley, with the many-colored Virginia creepers behind them and the flowers behind her, a better _tableau vivant_ of "first youth" and _first age_ could scarcely have been put together than they made. It made me wish that I had been more than a painter of _specimens_. The elder lady presented me to the younger ones; and they greeted me with that pretty courtesy that always charms us twofold when we meet with it in children, because we scarcely expect it of them. Rose's radiant little countenance, especially, seemed to say, "I have heard of you before, and wished to know you"; and that is one of the most winning expressions that a new countenance can wear. Then they put their arms round "dear Aunt Lizzy," coaxed her for peaches, and obtained the remainder of our basketful without much difficulty; and then I had to depart, but not quite without solace, for Rose ran after me to say, "Aunt Lizzy hopes, if you are not otherwise engaged, to see you again Monday morning at nine; and she sends you this book that she forgot to give you. It made her think of you, she says, when she was reading it." It was Greenwood's "Sermons of Consolation"; and, written in her hand on the fly-leaf, I found my name. FOOTNOTES: [2] The old philosophy held, that "Nature abhors a vacuum"; but modern observation shows that the natural Yankee abhors the air. * * * * * THE SWORD OF BOLIVAR. With the steadfast stars above us, And the molten stars below, We sailed through the Southern midnight, By the coast of Mexico. Alone, on the desolate, dark-ringed, Rolling and flashing sea, A grim old Venezuelan Kept the deck with me, And talked to me of his country, And the long Spanish war, And told how a young Republic Forged the sword of Bolivar. Of no base mundane metal Was the wondrous weapon made, And in no earth-born fire Was fashioned the sacred blade. But that it might shine the symbol Of law and light in the land, Dropped down as a star from heaven, To flame in a hero's hand. And be to the world a portent Of eternal might and right, They chose for the steel a splinter From a fallen aerolite. Then a virgin forge they builded By the city, and kindled it With flame from a shattered palm-tree, Which the lightning's torch had lit,-- That no fire of earthly passion Might taint the holy sword, And no ancient error tarnish The falchion of the Lord. For Quito and New Granada And Venezuela they pour From three crucibles the dazzling White meteoric ore. In three ingots it is moulded, And welded into one, For an emblem of Colombia, Bright daughter of the sun! It is drawn on a virgin anvil, It is heated and hammered and rolled, It is shaped and tempered and burnished, And set in a hilt of gold;