LETTERS FROM POPLAR

LETTER SEOOND.

HILL.

Poplar Hill, July 18—.

DEAR EMILY: By the address you will probably understand that I am at home; that only two miles of green fields and blue skies lie between our divided hearts, if you care to know that fact. Yes, I am at home at last, and to prevent a fit of tears, the effect of disappointment and fatigue, I have taken my pen to vent my spleen in a more harmless manner.

The partings of yesterday, the anxiety and weariness of to-day, have quite depressed my usual spirits; and now that I am alone in my own room, and all but myself and the stars are sleeping, I can scarcely resist the desire to fly to you, Emily, and pour all my griefs into your

ear.

The

We left school yesterday morning, father and I, and took the cars for Grassmere. Father was sick on the way, and we were obliged to stop in Hempstead over night. The examination passed off well. girls acquitted themselves admirably, and did honor, the President told us, to the institution. To my surprise, I received the first premium in composition; and I must say I do not estimate very highly the discrimination of the Committee. Ellen Summers wrote an exquisite allegory, abounding in metaphors and comparisons; I think she deserved the prize. The girls sent many kisses to you, which, by the by, I am not to deliver until I see you.

I expected to return to these dear scenes of childhood unchanged ; and it was not my eyes, Emily, oh no! not mine, wherein the shadow lurked. How I have loved every inch of this old homestead; and how sensitively is every association treasured in my heart! When the carriage drove through the great gate, past the sentinel poplars, and I leaned from the window to take in at a glance the dear old place, not a thing seemed changed, except perhaps that the early grape-vine over the piazza was grown more luxuriant. But when I entered, the whole appearance of the place chilled me to the heart.

Margaret and Elfie met us on the steps, and to the question 'Where is Emily?' I was told you were not here, and had sent no word. I learned, too, that Agnes had been indisposed for some days, and therefore had not ventured out, but would send the carriage for me to-morrow. The mistiness at my heart dimmed my eyes, for I saw nothing until two warm arms were around my neck, and two warmer lips upon my own, and 'It is Margaret, Bertha; don't you remember sister Margaret? sounded in my ears. How I thanked HEAVEN for those kisses and those words! Then Margaret drew Elfie toward me, and I kissed her, making her call me 'sister Bertha;' and her large inquiring eyes followed me as we entered the house. Margaret is like, very like Aunt Mary. Her voice has all the sweetness of hers, and her eye the depth; her every movement recalls to me what I have loved and lost.

Elfie's

manner and countenance are so varied at times that she will be a study

to me.

We went into the parlor, which looked dismal indeed, for the blinds were almost closed, and the summer twilight came in sadly. The furniture was placed stiffly around the apartments, and the twelve years since I was a six-year-old, were condensed in one agonizing moment, for there my poor mamma had lain, clad in the habiliments of the grave!

We stood some moments without speaking, and then father came and told us mother was not dressed, and I had better prepare for supper; he would send up my trunks immediately. We went up together, Margaret, Elfie, and I; and at the foot of the stairs we met an old friend in whose company I have enjoyed many golden dreams, namely, the family coat-of-arms. Its dear old features were unaltered, and I believed the honor of my home was as unsullied as those colors.

That is the Ellicott coat-of-arms; it came from Scotland,' said Elfie, seeing me lift my eyes to the painting, and desiring to make me acquainted with all around me.

'I guess Bertha saw that before she saw you,' replied Margaret, shortly.

We were already at the door of my room, and there was no opportunity for farther remark. The east room had been appropriated to me. and I was only too happy that it was so. The same heavy old furniture graced the apartment, unrelieved by ornament or drapery, yet some fresh flowers on the table near the window brightened it in a moment for me; perhaps the view beyond of green fields, hills and wood-lands, intersected by a road dim in the gathering twilight, added not a little to the satisfaction of that moment. You may be sure I had not a few questions to ask, and received not a little information. Margaret tells me you have expected your brother Harold every day this week, and she thinks his coming may have detained you at home. I sincerely hope you have as good a reason; but I cannot quite forgive him for coming now, when I want you to come to me often, for I remember years ago he quite monopolized you.

The little fingers that assisted me in completing my toilet, tarried not until I was rendered presentable; and leaving my room not unbecomingly disordered by my unpacked clothes, we went down stairs with linked arms and pleasant chatting. At the door of the china-closet down stairs, we met mother. And oh Emily, she is not altered in the least! She may be thinner, if that were possible, and her short black curls a trifle blacker, but her general appearance is the same. many of childhood's visions that form awakened; so many that for a moment I was only aware of the presence of book-muslin and musk.' She did not seem to see us, until we were close beside her; and Elfie said:

How

'Mother, here is Bertha.' Then she turned, and her stern features brightened into a cordial smile, as, shaking me by the hand, she said: 'Oh, is it you? how you have grown! I shouldn't have known you.' And then turned again to the closet and added: 'We did not expect you so soon; the cars came in earlier, I suppose.'

I replied that we had not been detained as we feared, yet I was very tired, and feared father was even more so.

'Yes,' she said,' he told me he had not passed so uncomfortable a week in a long time.'

She added something about city fatigues, and the like, but I heard nothing more, for all the blood in my veins seemed accumulated in my face; my eyes burnt in their sockets, and no words came to express the anger I felt.

'He told me he had not passed so uncomfortable a week in a long time!' rang in my ears as Margaret led me across the hall to the north piazza, and with womanly consideration directed my attention to many familiar and loved objects. Elfie had left us a moment before, so I asked Margaret to go with me to the cherry-trees, which, you know, stand about a hundred yards from the piazza. She seemed surprised at the request, but did not hesitate, and we stepped out into the already deepening twilight. Not a word passed between us as we passed over the ground scattering the dew-drops, and crushing the tender grass; not unlike, methought, the ruthless manner that a moment before had chilled the fresh emotions of my own heart. When we reached the cherrytrees I breathed more freely, and sinking down on the bed of myrtle at their roots, I exclaimed: Oh! I am sure I would rest better here than under that roof to-night!' My manner alarmed Margaret, for she begged me to get up and come back; it was getting damp, and I would take cold. Not heeding her, I asked whether the myrtle was in bloom, and then corrected myself by saying that was impossible, for the latest flowers lived only until June, and July had nearly passed.

'Why did you ask?' said Margaret.

Because I wanted a flower to put in my hair; mother, when a young wife, always dressed her hair in the spring with these; and I fancied father'

But I could not finish the sentence; and when Margaret took my hand and led me to the house, I did not remonstrate. When we reached the house, we met Elfie coming to summon us to supper, and we all went in together.

Mother treated me with exceeding politeness the remainder of the evening, but father and the children retired early, and I soon after found my way to my own room. For more than an hour I have leaned from the window, listening to the sad melody of the crickets, and the dirge of the frog in the stream at the foot of the hill. And I did not forget that this star-lit sky bends over Aunt Mary's grave in the cemetery at Beechnuts, and the wail of the distant Niagara alone breaks the solemn stillness. Dear Aunt Mary! her remembered voice comes to me in this silent hour with its accustomed blessing, and I fervently entreat HEAVEN to make me deserving of it!

It is very late, dear Emily, and I must write no longer. Father sends the gardener to Beverley to-morrow morning, and you will get this letter early. You will come to me to-morrow, dearest, but I shall not ask for a sight of you—' for if love does not bring you, let not my letter.' Good night.

BERTHA ELLICOTT.

MOULTS FROM THE WING OF A WHITE BLACK-BIRD.

FREELY TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH OF ALFRED DE MUSSET.

FEATHER FOUR.

THE melancholy effect produced by my voice, afflicted me very much. I turned my course toward Paris, saying, as I went: 'Alas! for music and for poetry, how rare, in this world, are the hearts responsive to their chords!" And as I made this reflection, I came with my head bump against that of another bird, who was flying in the opposite direction. The shock was so violent and unexpected, that we both tumbled into the top of a tree, which happened, luckily, to be just beneath us.

When I had shaken myself, I looked at the stranger with unpleasant misgivings as to the possibility of having to do battle with him. To my surprise, he was quite white. His head, which was a trifle bigger than the whole of my body, was adorned with a plume of feathers, which gave him a rather melo-dramatic air; and he cocked his tail at an angle expressive of great self-respect. He did not seem in the least disposed to be quarrelsome; and so we approached each other politely, and, having mutually apologized for the awkward accident, we entered into conversation. I asked him his name, and of what country he was. 'I am surprised,' said he, 'that you should not have recognized me; you're one of us, arn't you?'

'In good faith, Sir,' answered I, 'I don't know what I am; every body I meet asks me the same question, and makes the same remarks. I think it must be done for a bet.'

'You're joking,' rejoined he; 'your garb becomes you too well to permit the possibility of a mistake. You belong, Sir, incontestably, to the ancient and illustrious family called in Latin Cacuato, and in the language of philosophers, Kacatoës, but better known in the vernacular as Cockatoos.'

Sir,' exclaimed I, 'I feel highly honored by being thus classed. But what do these good folks do?'

'Nothing; and they are paid for doing it.'

'In that case, I am doubly willing to believe myself one of them. Nevertheless, consider me, for the present, a stranger, and be so good as to inform me who it is to whom I have the honor of speaking.'

'I,' answered the stranger,' am the celebrated poet Kacatogan. Far I have wandered o'er mountain and plain, o'er the yellow desert and the blue-billowed main, but ocean, nor desert, nor tempest, nor time, have quenched my fire nor withered my rhyme. I've warbled a strain to the Bourbon race, chanting their praises with beaming face; with the loudest lift of my boldest song, I've helped the Republic to limp along; nor did I leave Napoleon the first, without of my lyre a glorious burst; but a poet (if paid for it) should shew discretion, so I kept a stave for the Restoration; and now I struggle with zeal unvarying, to