In a short time thereafter she had published four more antislavery books or pamphlets. "Philothia," a romance whose scene is laid in ancient Greece, appeared in 1836. For eight years, dating from 1844, Mr. and Mrs. Childs were joint-editors of "The Anti-Slavery Standard," published in New York. She had a room in the house of Isaac Hopper,--"a house where disinterestedness and noble labor were as daily breath." It was during this time that she wrote her "Letters from New York," under which title her letters to "The Boston Courier" appeared in a volume having an enormous sale. In 1852, having given up the editorship of "The Standard," Mrs. Child said: "We made a humble home in Wayland, Mass., where we spent twenty-two pleasant years entirely alone, without any domestic; mutually serving each other, and dependent on each other for intellectual companionship." During those years she was deeply and actively interested in the progress of the Civil War. Its premonitions roused her. She warmly defended the cause of John Brown, sending him a letter offering to go nurse him in prison. Very soon she was deep in every sort of undertaking,--collecting funds, collecting supplies, urging Whittier to the writing of patriotic songs, sewing, knitting, quilting. Her intense interest was manifested by generous contributions of money, how earned or saved, she only knew. She said, "Nobles or princes cannot invent any pleasure equal to earning with one hand and giving with the other." Twenty dollars at one time, two hundred at another, and perhaps four hundred at yet another, she gave. During these years, too, she was writing and compiling other books,--"The Progress of Religious Ideas," "Looking towards Sunset," and "A Romance of the Republic." It was in the last of these peaceful years that she wrote: "David and I are growing old. He will be eighty in three weeks, and I was seventy-two last February. But we keep young in our feelings. We are, in fact, like two old children; as much interested as ever in the birds and wild flowers, and with sympathies as lively as ever in all that concerns the welfare of the world. Our habitual mood is serene and cheerful." Only a few months after these words were written, her husband died, and she left the place so full of memories of him to find a home elsewhere. Of these later years it was said: "She lived among a singularly peaceful and intelligent community as one of themselves, industrious, wise, and happy; with a frugality whose motive of wide benevolence was in itself a homily and a benediction." She died in 1880. BONNIE HAREBELLS. BY ANNA B. BENSEL. Bonnie harebells, bonnie harebells, Ring, oh, ring! Ring across the listening twilight While the fairies sing. Bonnie harebells, bonnie harebells, My love greet! Let her hear you ringing softly At her very feet.