And drowsily I hear the plaintive strain Of some poor dove . . . Why, I can scarcely keep My heavy eyelids--there it is again-- "Coo-coo!"--I mustn't--"Coo-coo!"--fall asleep! AT LAST A dark, tempestuous night; the stars shut in With shrouds of fog; an inky, jet-black blot The firmament; and where the moon has been An hour agone seems like the darkest spot. The weird wind--furious at its demon game-- Rattles one's fancy like a window-frame. A care-worn face peers out into the dark, And childish faces--frightened at the gloom-- Grow awed and vacant as they turn to mark The father's as he passes through the room: The gate latch clatters, and wee baby Bess Whispers, "The doctor's tummin' now, I dess!" The father turns; a sharp, swift flash of pain Flits o'er his face: "Amanda, child! I said A moment since--I see I must AGAIN-- Go take your little sisters off to bed! There, Effie, Rose, and CLARA MUSTN'T CRY!" "I tan't he'p it--I'm fyaid 'at mama'll die!" What are his feelings, when this man alone Sits in the silence, glaring in the grate That sobs and sighs on in an undertone As stoical--immovable as Fate, While muffled voices from the sick one's room Come in like heralds of a dreaded doom? The door-latch jingles: in the doorway stands The doctor, while the draft puffs in a breath-- The dead coals leap to life, and clap their hands, The flames flash up. A face as pale as death Turns slowly--teeth tight clenched, and with a look The doctor, through his specs, reads like a book. "Come, brace up, Major!"--"Let me know the worst!" "W'y you're the biggest fool I ever saw-- Here, Major--take a little brandy first-- There! She's a BOY--I mean HE is--hurrah!" "Wake up the other girls--and shout for joy-- Eureka is his name--I've found A BOY!" FARMER WHIPPLE--BACHELOR It's a mystery to see me--a man o' fifty-four, Who's lived a cross old bachelor fer thirty year' and more-- A-lookin' glad and smilin'! And they's none o' you can say That you can guess the reason why I feel so good to-day! I must tell you all about it! But I'll have to deviate A little in beginnin', so's to set the matter straight As to how it comes to happen that I never took a wife-- Kindo' "crawfish" from the Present to the Springtime of my life! I was brought up in the country: Of a family of five-- Three brothers and a sister--I'm the only one alive,-- Fer they all died little babies; and 'twas one o' Mother's ways, You know, to want a daughter; so she took a girl to raise. The sweetest little thing she was, with rosy cheeks, and fat-- We was little chunks o' shavers then about as high as that! But someway we sort a' SUITED-like! and Mother she'd declare She never laid her eyes on a more lovin' pair