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Page 1
If he can but set his standard glorious
On the hill-top low,
Ere the sun climbs the clear sky victorious,
All the world aglow!
So he presses on with childish ardor,
Almost at the top!
Hasten, Roger! Does the way grow harder?
Wherefore do you stop?
From below the corn-stalks tall and slender
Comes a plaintive cry--
Turns he for an instant from the splendor
Of the crimson sky,
Wavers, then goes flying toward the hollow,
Calling loud and clear:
"Coming, Jenny! Oh, why did you follow?
Don't you cry, my dear!"
Small Janet sits weeping 'mid the daisies;
"Little sister sweet,
Must you follow Roger?" Then he raises
Baby on her feet,
Guides her tiny steps with kindness tender,
Cheerfully and gay,
All his courage and his strength would lend her
Up the uneven way,
Till they front the blazing East together;
But the sun has rolled
Up the sky in the still Summer weather,
Flooding them with gold.
All forgotten is the boy's ambition,
Low the standard lies,
Still they stand, and gaze--a sweeter vision
Ne'er met mortal eyes.
That was splendid; Roger, that was glorious,
Thus to help the weak;
Better than to plant your flag victorious
On earth's highest peak!
ONE SATURDAY.
BY SARAH WINTER KELLOGG.
It was an autumn day in the Indian summer time,--that one Saturday.
The Grammar Room class of Budville were going nutting; that is, eight
of them were going,--"our set," as they styled themselves. Besides the
eight of "our set," Bob Trotter was going along as driver, to take
care of the horses and spring wagon on arrival at the woods, while the
eight were taking care of the nutting and other fun. Bob was fourteen
and three months, but he was well-grown. Beside, he was very handy at
all kinds of work, as he ought to have been, considering that he had
been kept at work since his earliest recollection, to the detriment of
his schooling.
It had been agreed that the boys were to pay for the team, while the
girls were to furnish the lunch. In order to economize space, it was
arranged that all the contributions to the lunch should be sent on
Friday to Mrs. Hooks, Clara of that surname undertaking to pack it all
into one large basket.
It was a trifle past seven o'clock Saturday morning when Bob Trotter
drove up to Mr. Hooks's to take in Clara, she being the picnicker
nearest his starting point. He did not know that she was a put
off-er. She was just trimming a hat for the ride when Bob's wagon was
announced. She hadn't begun her breakfast, though all the rest of the
family had finished the meal, while the lunch which should have been
basketed the previous night was scattered over the house from the
parlor center-table to the wood-shed.
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