St. Nicholas Magazine for Boys and Girls, Vol. 5, Nov 1877-Nov 1878 Scribner's Illustrated   By: Various

[See Letter Box.]

ST. NICHOLAS.

VOL. V. JUNE, 1878. No. 8.

[Copyright, 1878, by Scribner & Co.]

A TRIUMPH.

BY CELIA THAXTER.

Little Roger up the long slope rushing Through the rustling corn, Showers of dewdrops from the broad leaves brushing In the early morn,

At his sturdy little shoulder bearing For a banner gay, Stem of fir with one long shaving flaring In the wind away!

Up he goes, the summer sunshine flushing O'er him in his race, Sweeter dawn of rosy childhood blushing On his radiant face.

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.