. Nos jeunes gens [série]. Son glee, se soucie peu de leur malheur et de leur malheur, — T sera votre prochain tour! pleure. Il ne voit pas, caché derrière le rocher, dans l'herbe marine, une coque de petits bateaux, ni rêve qu'il les gunners ont épargné le troupeau pour le Gull bourgmestre. Si fièrement ses ailes sont répandues, et il se lance sur la brise, — quand lo ! Quel .tonnerre de colère et de colère !Quels sont ces pangs mortels ! Le sang rouge coule et les plumes volent, descendre les pignons de large ; le chef-voleur, avec un cri amer, les chutes tête dans la marée ! Ils le portent avec rire et cri; t

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. Our young folks [serial]. his glee, Cares little enough for their woe and their fright, — T will be your turn next! cries he. He sees not, hidden behind the rock, In the sea-weed, a small boats hull, Nor dreams he the gunners have spared the flock For the Burgomaster Gull. So proudly his dusky wings are spread, And he launches out on the breeze, — When lo ! what .thunder of wrath and dread !What deadly pangs are these ! The red blood drips and the feathers fly, Down drop the pinions wide ;The robber-chief, with a bitter cry, Falls headlong in the tide ! They bear him off with laugh and shout; The wary birds return, —From the clove-brown feathers that float about The glorious news they learn. Then such a tumult fills the place As never was sung or said ;And all cry, wild with joy, The base, Bad Burgomasters dead ! And the old-wives sit with their caps so white, And their pretty beaks so red, And swing on the billows, and scream with delight, For the Burgomasters dead !. Celia Thaxter. 654 Icilius. [November, . ICILIUS. HP HE intolerable oppression of the patricians, to which was now added*- the tyranny of the Decemvirs, had excited a spirit of rancor in thebreasts of the Roman commons, which was gradually extending itself to theentire army that now lay encamped in a strong position within sight of theenemy. But so sullen was their temper that the generals feared to lead themfrom their intrenchments, and the only barrier to open mutiny seemed to bethe absence of special provocation, or the lack of a leader. Upon the slopes of Crustumeria hung the dark masses of the Roman[their] * legions, while the watch-fires of their enemy, gleaming throughheavy masses of foliage, lit up the vales below. But the haughty joy withwhich these stern warriors were wont to hail the hour of conflict no longerthrilled the soldiers breasts. By the dim light of stars, men spake in whis-pers ; and murmurs, waxing louder as the night wore on, like the hollowmoan of surf before the gathering

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