DEW-DROPS OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. THE FIELD OF THE WORLD. BY MONTGOMERY. Sow in the morn thy seed, At eve hold not thine hand; To doubt and fear give thou no heed, Broad-cast it o'er the land. Beside all waters sow, The highway furrows stock, Drop it where thorns and thistles grow, Scatter it on the rock. The good, the fruitful ground, Expect not here nor there; O'er hill and dale, by plots, 'tis found; Thou know'st not which may thrive, Grace keeps the precious germs alive, When and wherever strown. And duly shall appear, In verdure, beauty, strength, Thou canst not toil in vain ; Cold, heat, and moist, and dry, Thence, when the glorious end, And heaven cry-" Harvest home." THE PALACE OF BEAUTY. A FAIRY TALE.-BY MRS. CHILD. "When the graces of form to the features impart [The following tale, by Mrs. Child, is most exquisitely told, and the moral is of the highest and best character. Such a sketch cannot fail to make a salutary impression upon the heart of every reader.] In ancient times two little princesses lived in Scotland, one of whom was extremely beautiful, and the other dwarfish, dark-colored and deformed. One was named Rose, and the other Marion. The sisters did not live happily together. Marion hated Rose because she was handsome, and everybody praised her. She scowled, and her face absolutely grew black, when anybody asked her how her pretty little sister Rose did; and once she was so wicked as to cut off all her glossy, golden hair, and throw it on the fire. Poor Rose cried bitterly about it; but she did not scold, or strike her sister; for she was an amiable, gentle little being as ever lived. No wonder all the family and all the neighbors disliked Marion-and no wonder her face grew uglier and uglier every day. The Scotch used to be a very superstitious people; and they believed the infant Rose had been blessed by the fairies, to whom she owed her extraordinary beauty and exceeding good ness. court. Not far from the castle where the princesses resided, was a deep grotto, said to lead to the Palace of Beauty; where the queen of the Fairies held her Some said Rose had fallen asleep there one day, when she had grown tired of chasing a butterfly, and that the queen had dipped her in an immortal fountain, from which she had risen with the beauty of an angel.* Marion often asked questions about this story; but Rose always replied that she had been forbidden to speak of it. When she saw any uncommonly brilliant bird, or butterfly, she would sometimes exclaim: "Oh, how much that looks like Fairy Fand!" But when asked what she knew about Fairy Land, she blushed, and would not answer. Marion thought a great deal about this. "Why cannot I go to the Palace of Beauty?" thought she; "and why may not I bathe in the Immortal Fountain ?" One summer's noon, when all was still save the faint twittering of the birds, and the lazy hum of the insects, Marion entered the deep grotto. She sat down on a bank of moss; the air around her was as fragrant as if it came from a bed of violets; and with the sound of far-off music dying on her ear, she fell into a gentle slumber. When she awoke it was evening; and she found herself in a small hall, where opal pillars supported a rain-bow roof, the bright reflection of which rested on chrystal walls, and a golden floor inlaid with pearls. All around, *There was a superstition that whoever slept on fairy ground was carried away by the Fairies. between the opal pillars, stood the tiniest vases of pure alabaster, in which grew a multitude of brilliant and fragrant flowers; some of them twining around the pillars, were lost in the floating rain-bow above. The whole of this scene of beauty was lighted by millions of fire-flies, glittering about like wandering stars. While Marion was wondering at all this, a little figure of rare loveliness stood before her. Her robe was of green and gold; her flowing gossamer mantle was caught upon one shoulder with a pearl, and in her hair was a solitary star, composed of five diamonds, each no bigger than a pin's point, and thus she sung: The Fairy Queen Hath rarely seen Creature of earthly mould Within her door, On pearly floor, Inlaid with shining gold. Quick thy purposes declare! As she concluded, the song was taken up, and thrice repeated by a multitude of soft voices in the distance. It seemed as if birds and insects joined in the chorus-the clear voice of the thrush was distinctly heard; the cricket kept time with his tiny cymbal; and ever and anon between the pauses, the sound of a distant cascade was heard, whose waters fell in music. All these delightful sounds died away, and the queen of the fairies stood patiently awaiting Marion's answer. Courtesying low, and with a trembling voice, the little maiden said : |