THE ———— Come, listen, oh dove, The dove and the olive of oll, Companioned still in their world above As when the deluge rolled Hark! heaven, oh, love, to the the dove, volee Hark, heaven, and hear him say, “There are many to morrows, suy love, my love, There's only one to-day.” And this is his wooing: you hear him say, “This day in purple rolled And the baby stars of the milky way Are cradled iu cradles of gold:” Now, what is thy secret, serene, gray dove Escaping death's deluge alway re are many (0-1 OWS, my love: day THE STORY OF THREE OLD JIE There's only one to 1 tle after tl 3 Horuy alter the succes independent its awful land fore Even Mistre 3 “Old Reub HAY,” ana eves, looking ‘Rube 1 the stone ho passed the w dows: dead!” “Ohr neighbor has heen nea but ince my he has lived a life of 1 4 ¥ HE%e Many years, aeath strangers. earlie grant to age what you would crime “Woman!” ie ¢ old his father speak to you of Seotch girl, services house menial were by Squire Elli from the owners of the Glasgow packet for the price her passage, who his home and his proffered WAS IY taken, tied to the scoundrels h and drageed to death among the rocks on this very road ¥' The question seemed fo revive a host of buried memories. Mrs. Dorris bered that as a child she had listened the story of Murder Notch: had identical rock on which the ghost of a beautiful victim was said to sit at mid- pight, two burning tapers in her hands and sing of her sad fate. how Tom Dorris—rest his soul--long be- fore he had dreamed of becoming husband.