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RELIGIOUS AND LITERARY MAGAZINE.

JANUARY-1872.

ON LAKE MICHIGAN.

BY C. A. C.

I was on a perfect June evening that we left the great city of Chicago, taking the steamer Maine for Ogdensburg. The prospect of a week on the lakes was delightful. Farewell the luxuries of broad halls and high ceilings, and welcome the narrow apartments of a lake steamer, for should we not have those fresh fine breezes which our land brethren would so vainly covet?

Lake Michigan was more grand than she ever seemed on the map when our childish fingers pencilled the outlines, and we wondered if we should ever see her in reality. Here, indeed, we were, quietly moving through the still water, obedient to the beating of the boat's steam heart. Sometimes we looked over the side of the Maine, at the foam with its hundred tiny rainbows, dancing, like bright fairies, to keep time with our motion; or we sat on the hurricane-deck in the twilight, and watched the friendly constellations emerge, star by star, from the sun's departing splendor, and looked far away to where the dull eastern sky joined the dark waters; and again, with a sort of relief, to where the bright western clouds clustered over the Wisconsin shore.

How conscious of great thoughts hid

den in their solemn breasts do these

mighty lakes seem to be! To us they reveal an impression of eternity. They have a look of proud, reserved strength. There is a power in their gathered storm fury, before which oaken beams break, and when they plunge in terrible haste off the walls of Niagara, then it is we recognize their tremendous majesty, and acknowledge with reverent awe the great Author.

To us the waters were friendly, seldom even tossing their pretty white caps at us; oftener playing in bright, laughing wavelets, and sometimes smooth as glass, sleeping, dreaming, it seemed, in the happy sunlight.

All sorts of passengers kept us company, but among them was a family which attracted special attention. An old, care-worn man, with bent shoulders and thin face, with the air of a real gentleman, seemed to be the only protector of two bright, beautiful boys, perhaps seven and four years old. Their faces were different. The older one, Harry, had dark, straight hair, brown, thoughtful eyes, and a look of watchfulness and responsibility which was remarkable. Georgie, the younger, was the picture of

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1872, by ALFRED MARTIEN, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.

mirth and mischief, which dimpled in his cheeks, curled in his light hair, and laughed in his eyes. He always ran or jumped, or moved restlessly. When he was not astride the capstan, he was hanging to a rope or surveying the mysteries of the pilot-house-always laughing for very glee. Harry managed with adroitness, wonderful in a child, to keep his brother within the bounds of safety; sometimes scolding, sometimes telling him a story, and coaxing him, always gently, but with a wonderful determination.

Besides these three, there was a stout girl with dull eyes and freckled face, remarkable for a look of stolid honesty, and for a lack of anything like beauty. She seemed to be in attendance upon all, probably was an Irish nurse of the children. She put the boys to bed, waited on them at table, placed a shawl over the old gentleman's shoulders, or brought him his paper to read, receiving from them all kindness and consideration.

Evidently something of bereavement, perhaps of mystery, had occurred in this family, which a not irreverent curiosity fain would know. I coaxed the little fellow to my side with bonbons, and asked him where his mother was.

"Up in heaven," he answered, with a little laugh; "a lookin' at Dorgy to see if he's a dood boy."

waiting for a breeze. The water was smooth; not a ripple stirred its bland surface, and the sun shone slantingly from a cloudless sky, throwing a soft haze upon the distant horizon. Everything was yet rosy with the sunrise, a place of rare, quiet beauty. It seemed then, as never before to me, that stillness is an important element of beauty. The tall trees scarcely moved. The white gulls flew lazily. It might have been the home of the lotos-eaters."

A land where all things always are the same."

At the captain's invitation we went ashore. Here the water was very clear. For at least twenty feet down, we could see pebbles on the sandy bottom, among which shoals of small fish were playing. At fancy we strolled into the woods, where grew wild strawberries, or sat on a rock by the shore enjoying the beautiful prospect.

Little Georgie was in an ecstasy at the change to terra firma, and shouting and laughing, scampered up and down the long wharf like a very sprite.

"Georgie, not so fast, my boy-Harry look after your brother," said the grandfather, in some alarm.

So Harry tried to do, but for once Georgie was too much for his little keeper. I had been watching the two for some time with no slight fear, yet could not resist the perfect abandon of overjoy which rung out in the child's laugh.

"Where is your father, Georgie?" He looked up wonderingly. "Hain't dot any. Dranpa's there;" and away he ran to show grandpa his treasures.

I spoke to Harry with almost as much embarrassment as if he had been a young inan. "Mother is dead, and we have no father, only grandpa."

"But who is the girl you call Marga

ret?"

"She's our nurse;" and no further information would the sagacious little fellow vouchsafe.

On the third day we stopped at a wood station on the Michigan shore. The great expanse of water lay on the east, north, and west. We had passed the Manitou islands, and where they parted was a bark with all sails set,

He was specially delighted with the "'ittle fis," begging Harry to catch “just one to take to grandma. He took his brother's hand, and both leaned over the edge of the plank.

How it happened they never knew, but one lost his balance, and dragged the other. A splash, and cry of dismay from all the spectators.

Several of the boat's hands were near, and it took but an instant for two or three stout swimmers to plunge for the rescue, and before they had drifted into deep water, the two were landed on the dock, dripping and crying lustily. The scene was now quite changed. Sympathizing strangers crowded around to care for the