While children, wild with noisy glee,
Shall scent their fragrance as they pass,
And search for them the tufted grass
At the foot of the apple-tree.

5. And when above this apple-tree
The winter stars are quivering bright,
And winds go howling through the night,
Girls whose young eyes o'erflow with mirth,
Shall peel its fruit by cottage hearth,

And guests in prouder homes shall see,
Heaped with the orange and the grape,
As fair as they in tint and shape,
The fruit of the apple-tree.

6. The fruitage of this apple-tree
Winds and our flag of stripe and star
Shall bear to coasts that lie afar,
Where men shall wonder at the view,
And ask in what fair groves they grew;
And they who roam beyond the sea
Shall look, and think of childhood's day,
And long hours passed in summer play
In the shade of the apple-tree.

7. Each year shall give this apple-tree
A broader flush of roseate bloom,
A deeper maze of verdurous gloom,
And loosen, when the frost-clouds lower,
The crisp brown leaves in thicker shower;
The years shall come and pass, but we
Shall hear no longer, where we lie,
The summer's song, the autumn's sigh,
In the boughs of the apple-tree.

8. And time shall waste this apple-tree.
Oh, when its aged branches throw
Their shadows on the sward below,
Shall fraud and force and iron will
Oppress the weak and helpless still?

What shall the tasks of mercy be,
Amid the toils, the strifes, the tears
Of those who live when length of years
Is wasting this apple-tree?

9. "Who planted this old apple-tree?"
The children of that distant day
Thus to some aged man will say,
And, gazing on its mossy stem,

The gray-haired man shall answer them :
"A poet of the land was he,

Born in the rude but good old times;
"Tis said he made some quaint old rhymes
On planting the apple-tree."

XVI. THE GRATEFUL LAWYER.

J. G. HOLLAND.

1. Mr. Lincoln's early athletic struggle with Jack Armstrong, the representative man of the "Clary's Grove Boys," will be remembered. From the moment of this struggle, which Jack agreed to call "a drawn battle," in consequence of his own foul play, they became strong friends. Jack would fight for Mr. Lincoln at any time, and would never hear him spoken against. Indeed, there were times when young Lincoln made Jack's cabin his home, and here Mrs. Armstrong, a most womanly person, learned to respect the rising man.

The

2. There was no service to which she did not make her guest abundantly welcome, and he never ceased to feel the tenderest gratitude for her kindness. At length, her husband died, and she became dependent upon her sons. oldest of these, while in attendance upon a camp-meeting, found himself involved in a melee, which resulted in the death of a young man; and young Armstrong was charged by one of his associates with striking the fatal blow. He was arrested, examined, and imprisoned to await his trial. The public mind was in a blaze of excitement, and interested parties fed the flame.

3. Mr. Lincoln knew nothing of the merits of this case,— that is certain. He only knew that his old friend Mrs. Armstrong was in sore trouble; and he sat down at once, and volunteered by letter to defend her son. His first act was to procure the postponement and a change of the place of the trial. There was too much fever in the minds of the immediate public to permit of fair treatment. When the trial came on, the case looked very hopeless to all but Mr. Lincoln, who had assured himself that the young man was not guilty.

4. The evidence on behalf of the state being all in, and looking like a solid and consistent mass of testimony against the prisoner, Mr. Lincoln undertook the task of analyzing and destroying it, which he did in a manner that surprised every one. The principal witness testified that "by the aid of the brightly-shining moon, he saw the prisoner inflict the death-blow with a slung shot." Mr. Lincoln proved by the almanac that there was no moon shining at the time. The mass of testimony against the prisoner melted away, until "not guilty" was the verdict of every man present in the crowded court-room.

5. There is, of course, no record of the plea made on this occasion, but it is remembered as one in which Mr. Lincoln made an appeal to the sympathies of the jury which quite surpassed his usual efforts of the kind, and melted all to tears. The jury were out but half an hour, when they returned with their verdict of "not guilty." The widow fainted in the arms of her son, who divided his attention between his services to her, and his thanks to his deliverer. And thus the kind woman who cared for the poor young man, and showed herself a mother to him in his need, received, as her reward, from the hand of her grateful beneficiary, the life of a son, saved from a cruel conspiracy.

NOTE. Some account of Mr. Lincoln's previous intercourse with this family may be found in Selection LVI., page

204.

XVII.-WHEN I AM OLD.

CAROLINE A. BRIGGS.

1. When I am old-(and O! how soon
Will life's sweet morning yield to noon,
And noon's broad, fervid, earnest light
Be shaded in the solemn night!
Till like a story well-nigh told
Will seem my life, when I am old),
When I am old, this breezy earth
Will lose for me its voice of mirth;
The streams will have an undertone

Of sadness not by right their own ;
And spring's sweet power in vain unfold
In rosy charms-when I am old.

2. When I am old, I shall not care To deck with flowers my faded hair; 'Twill be no vain desire of mine In rich and costly dress to shine; Bright jewels and the brightest gold Will charm me naught—when I am old.

3. When I am old, my friends will be
Old and infirm and bowed, like me ;
Or else (their bodies 'neath the sod,
Their spirits dwelling safe with God),
The old church-bell will long have tolled
Above the rest-when I am old.

4. When I am old, I'd rather bend
Thus sadly o'er each buried friend
Than see them lose the earnest truth
That marks the friendship of our youth;
"Twill be so sad to have them cold
Or strange to me-when I am old!
When I am old-O, how it seems
Like the wild lunacy of dreams,

5. When I am old?-Perhaps ere then
I shall be missed from haunts of men ;
Perhaps my dwelling will be found
Beneath the green and quiet mound ;
My name by stranger hands enrolled
Among the dead-ere I am old.
Ere I am old?—That time is now,
For youth sits lightly on my brow;
My limbs are firm and strong and free ;
Life hath a thousand charms for me,—
Charms that will long their influence hold
Within my heart—ere I am old.

6. Ere I am old, O, let me give

My life to learning how to live!
Then shall I meet with willing heart
An early summons to depart,
Or find my lengthened days consoled
By God's sweet peace-when I am old.

XVIII. TRUTH AND TRUTHFULNESS.

J. G. HOLLAND.

1. One of the rarest powers possessed by man is the power to state a fact. It seems a very simple thing to tell the truth, but, beyond all question, there is nothing half so easy as lying. To comprehend a fact in its exact length, breadth, relations, and significance, and to state it in language that shall represent it with exact fidelity, are the work of a mind singularly gifted, finely balanced, and thoroughly practiced in that special department of effort.

2. The men are comparatively few who are in the habit of telling the truth. We all lie, every day of our lives— almost in every sentence we utter-not consciously and crim