Between us I know we can save him.

I'll write him to-morrow, poor boy."

THE "STAY-AT-HOME'S" PLAINT.

The Spring has grown to Summer;

The sun is fierce and high;

The city shrinks, and withers

Beneath the burning sky.

Ailantus trees are fragrant,

And thicker shadows cast,

Where berry-girls, with voices shrill,

And watering carts go past.

In offices like ovens

We sit without our coats;

Our cuffs are moist and shapeless,

No collars binds our throats.

We carry huge umbrellas

On Broad Street and on Wall,

Oh, how thermometers go up!

And, oh, how stocks do fall!

The nights are full of music,

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