MY AUNT POLLY. BY MRS. E. C. KINNEY. EVERY body has had an Aunt Peggy-an Aunt | she surveyed intently my features, and traced in the Patty-an Aunt Penelope, or an auut something else; but every body has n't had an Aunt POLLY-i. e. such an Aunt Polly as mine! Most Aunt Pollies have been the exemplars and promulgators of "single blessedness"-not such was she! But more of this anon. Aunt Polly was the only sister of my father, who often spoke of her affectionately; but would end his remark with "poor Polly! so nervous-so unlike her self-possessed and beautiful mother"whose memory he devoutly revered. Children are not destitute of the curiosity native to the human mind, and we often teased papa about a visit from Aunt Polly, who, he replied, never left home; but not enlightening us on the why, his replies only served to whet the edge of curiosity more and more. I never shall forget the surprise that opened my eyelids early and wide one morning, when it was announced to me that Aunt Polly and her spouse had unexpectedly arrived at the homestead. It would be difficult to analyze the nature of that eagerness which hastily dressed and sent me down stairs. But unfortunately did I enter the breakfast-room just as the good book was closing, and the family circle preparing to finish its devotions on the knee; however, a glance of the eye takes but little time, and a penetrating look was returned me by Aunt Polly, in which the beaming affection of her sanguine nature, and the scowl of scarce restrained impatience to get hold of me, were mixed so strangely as to give her naturally sharp black eyes an expression almost fearful to a child; but on surveying her unique apparel, and indescribably uneasy position on the chair —for she remained seated while the rest of us knelt, giving me thus an opportunity to scrutinize her through the interstices of my chair-back-so excited my girlish risibilities, that fear became stifled in suppressed laughter. "Amen" was scarce pronounced, when a shrill voice called out-"Come here, you little good-for-nothing-what's your name?" The inviting smile conveyed to me with these startling tones left no doubt who was addressed, and I instantly obeyed the really fervent call. Both the stout arms of my aunt were opened to receive me, but held me at their length, while-with a nervous sensibility that made the tears gush from her eyes-she hurriedly exclaimed-" What shall I do with you? Do you love to be squeezed? When, suiting the action to the question, she embraced me with a tenacity that almost choked my breath. From that moment I loved Aunt Polly! The fervid outpouring of her affection had mingled with the well-springs of a heart that despite its mischievousness-was ever brimming with love. The first gush of feeling over, Aunt Polly again held me at arm's distance, while laughing eye and golden ringlets the likeness of be "dearest brother in the world!" Poor aunty had but one! Nor was my opportunity lost of looking right into the face I had so often desired to see. would be hard to draw a picture of Aunt Polly words, so good as the reader's fancy will supply. There was nothing peculiar in her tall, stout figure; in her well developed features-something between the Grecian and the Roman-in her complexion. which one could see had faded from a glowing bre nette to a pale Scotch snuff color. But her eyes. they were peculiar-so black-so rapid in their mo tions-so penetrating when looking forward-so flashing when she laughed, that really- I never saw such eyes! It would be still more puzzling to describe her dress. She wore a real chintz of the olden time filled with nosegays, as unlike to Nature's flowers is the fashion of her gown was to the dresses of modera dames of her sixty years. Though I don't believe Aunt Polly's attire looked like any body else's at the time it was made; at any rate, it was put on in a way that differed from the pictures I had seen of the old-school ladies. Her cap was indeed the crowner but let that pass, for the old lady had these dainty articles so carefully packed in what had been a sugar-box, that no doubt they were sweet to any task but mine. I said that Aunt Polly was not a spinster. A better idea of her lord cannot be given than in her own words to my eldest sister, who declared in ber hearing that she would never marry a minister. “Hush, hush, my dear!" said Aunt Polly, “I remember saying, when I was a girl, that whatever faults my husband might have, he should never be younger than myself-have red hair, or stammer in his speech: all these objections were united in the man I married!" One more fact will convey to the imagination al that I need say of Aunt Polly's husband. Late one evening came a thundering knock at my father's door, and as all the servants had retired, a youth who happened to be staying with us at the time, started. candle in hand, to answer it: Now the young man was of a credulous turn, and had just awakened from a snooze in his chair. Presently a loud shriek called all who were up in the house to the door, where, lying prostrate and faint, was found the youth, and standing over him, with eye-balls dis tended-making ineffectual efforts to speak-was the husband of Aunt Polly. When the lad recovered, all that he could tell of his mishap was, that on opening the street-door a man, wrapped in a larg over-coat, with glassy eyes staring straight at him, opened and shut his mouth four times without uiter able-when the candle fell from his hands, the floor! Aunt Polly's spouse was the stammerers! But if he could seldom begin , so Aunt Polly could seldom finish one: most noticeable point in her conversation it had no point, or was made up of senken off in the middle. This may have been cally owing to the velocity with which s fluid passed through her brain, giving rapidity to her thoughts, and correspondemotions of her body. It soon became a my girlish mind how Aunt Polly ever ong enough to listen to a declaration of cially from a stutterer-or even to respond iage ceremony. der now is, how the functions of her sysd time to fulfill their offices, or the flesh ate, as it did, to a very respectable conor she never, to my knowledge, finished e under our roof; nor do I believe that pt out a nap in her life. As she became fitted to interest one of my novel, funI used often to steal out of bed at different night and peep from my own apartment hich adjoined it, where a night lamp was ing; for she insisted on having the door open. I invariably found those eyes of wake, and my own room being dark, took watching her unobserved, as she fidgeted er ample-bordered night-cap, and now clothes. Once was I caught by a sudmy part, which brought Aunt Polly to re I had time to slip back to bed; and that my guiltiness could make her kind e on my being up in the cold, was the and very wicked fib, that I heard her ought she might want something. UnI lady! May her ashes at least rest in she caught me in her arms, kissed and bed, tucking in the blankets so effecattempts to get up again that night Oh, she was a love of an aunt! The er attachment to me might have been by her having had no children of her e evident interest which she excited in my steps to follow her wherever she all the family endeavored to make her isit as agreeable as possible. But every en her attention to an object of interest ong enough to understand it, was unnetimes I sallied out with her into the hile rather pleased than mortified by n which her grotesque costume and lar gait attracted, it was different with attempted to shop; as more often than would begin to pay for articles purtting her purse abruptly in her pocket, the door, as if on purpose to avoid a lbow, which sometimes served to jog so, and sometimes the very purchases till I became their witness. e, Aunt Polly's visit was a source of at to me than all the visits of all my school-mates put together. When we parted-for I truly loved her-I forgave the squeeze-a screwturn tighter than that at our meeting-and promised through my tears to make her a visit whenever my parents would consent to it. The homestead was as still for a week after her departure, as a ball-room after the waltzers have all whirled themselves home. Hardly had the family clock-work commenced its methodical revolutions again, when a letter arrived; and who that knew Aunt Polly, could have mistaken its characteristic superscription. My father was well-known at the post office, or the half-written-out-name would never have found its way into his box. Internally, the letter was made up of broken sentences, big with love, like the large, fragmentary drops of rain from a passing summer cloud. By dint of patient perseverance we "gathered up the fragments, so that nothing was lost" of Aunt Polly's itinerant thoughts or wishes. Among the latter was an invitation for me to visit her, on which my father looked silently and negatively; but I was not thus to be denied a desire of the heart, and insisted on having an audible response to my request of permission to fulfill the parting promise to Aunt Polly. In vain did my father give first an evasive answer, and then hint at the disappointment likely to await such a step-recall to my mind the eccentricities of his "worthy sister"-endeavor by all gentle means of persuasion to deter me from my purpose, and finally try to frighten me out of it. I was incorrigible. Not long after, a gentleman who resided in the town with my aunt, came to visit us, and being alone in a comfortable one-horse vehicle, was glad enough to accept my offered company on his way home; so, gaining the reluctant consent of my mother, I started, full of an indefinite sort of pleasurable expectation, nourished by the changing diorama of a summer afternoon's ride through a cultivated part of the country. Arriving at the verge of a limpid stream, my companion turned the horse to drink, so suddenly, that the wheels became cramped, and we were precipitated into the water, the wagon turning a summerset directly over our heads. Strange to say, neither of us were hurt, and the stream was shallow, though deep enough to give us a thorough cold bath, and to deluge the trunk containing my clothes, the lock of which flew open in the fall. My mortified protector crept from under our capsized ark as soon as he could, and let me out at the window; when I felt myself to be in rather a worse condition than was Noah's dove, who "found no rest for the sole of her foot;" for beside dripping from all my garments, like a surcharged umbrella, my soul, too, found no foothold of excuse on which to stand justified before my father for exposing myself to such an emergence without his knowledge. However, return we must. Nor was the situation of my conductor's body or mind very enviable, being obliged to present me to my parents, drooping like a waterlily. But if ill-luck had pursued us, good luck awaited our return; for we found that my father had not yet arrived from his business, and my mother's conscience kept our secret; so that frustration in my first attempt to visit Aunt Polly, was all the evil that came out of the adventure. Notwithstanding my ardor had been so damped with cold water, it was yet warm enough for another effort; though it must be confessed, that for a few days subsequent to the accident, my animal spirits were something in the state of over-night-uncorked champagne. The first sign of their renewed vitality was the again expressed desire to visit Aunt Polly. I, however, learned obedience by the things I had suffered, and resolved not to venture on another expedition without the approval and protection of my father, who, because of my importunity, at length consented to accompany me, provided I would not reveal to Aunt Polly the proposed length of my visit until I had spent a day and night under her roof. This I readily consented to, thinking only at the time what a strange proviso it was. Accordingly, arrangements were soon completed for the long coveted journey; but not until I had remonstrated with my mother on her limited provision for my wardrobe, furnishing me only with what a small carpet-bag would contain. After a ride of some forty miles, through scenery that gave fresh inspiration to my hopes, we arrived at the witching hour of sunset, before a venerablelooking farm-house. Its exterior gave no signs in the form of shrubbery or flowers of the decorating, refining hand of woman; but the sturdy oak and sycamore were there to give shade, and the lifescenes that surrounded the farm-yard were plenty in promise of eggs and poultry for the keen appetites of the travelers. | on my part that followed close upon her kiss, would have made that suspicion a certainty. Aunt Poliy was, indeed, that inborn abhorrence of mine, a snuff-taker! Thus my rosy prospects began to assume a yellowish tinge before entering the house; what color they took afterward it would be difion! to tell; for the wild confusion of its interior, gave t my fancy as many and as mixed hues as one sees in a kaleidoscope. The old-fashioned parlor had a corner cupboard, which appeared to be put to any use but the right one, while the teacups and saucers-no whole set alike-were indiscriminately arranged on the sideboard, and in it I saw, as the door stood ajar, Au Polly's bonnet and shawl; a drawer, too, being half open, disclosed one of her sweetish caps, side by side with a card of gingerbread. The carpet was woven of every color, in every form, but when any definite figure, and promised to be another puzzle for my curious eyes to unravel; it seemed to have been just thrown down with here and there a tack in it, only serving to make it look more away, While amusing myself with this carpet, it recaled an incident that a roguish cousin of mine once related to me after he had been to see Aunt Polly, connected with this parlor, which she always cale her "square-room!" One day during his visit the old lady having occasion to step into a neighbor's house, while a pot of lard was trying over e kitchen fire, and not being willing to trust her halftrained servants to watch it, she gave the precious oil in charge to this youth, who was one of her favorites, bidding him, after a stated time, remove it from the chimney to a cooling-place; now not finishing her directions, the lad indulged his mis kettle of boiling lard to cool in the square-room freplace; but finding it heavier than his strength coud carry, its contents were suddenly deposited on the carpet, save such sprinklings as served to brand hs face and hands as the culprit of the mischief. The terrified boy hearing Aunt Polly's step on e threshold, took the first way that was suggested to him of escaping her wrath, which led out at the window. Scarce had his agile limbs landed ha safe on terra firma, when the door opened, ani, preceded by a shriek that penetrated his hidro place, he heard Aunt Polly's lamentable lamentativa As we drove into the avenue leading to a side-chievous propensities by attempting to place the door of the mansion, I caught a glimpse of Aunt Polly's unparalleled cap through a window, and the next moment she stood on the steps, wringing her hands and crying for joy. An involuntary dread of another squeezing came over me, which had scarce time to be idealized ere it was realized almost to suffocation. My father's more graduated look of pleasure, called from Aunt Polly an out-bursting "Forgive me, forgive me! It's my only brother in the world! It's my dear little puss all over again! Forgive me, forgive me!" But during these ejaculations I was confirmed in a discovery that had escaped all my vigilance while Aunt Polly sojourned" It's my square-room! my square-room carpe with us. She was a snuff-taker! That she took snuff, as she did every thing else, by snatches, I had also ascertained, on seeing her in the door, when she thought herself yet beyond the reach of our vision, forgetting that young eyes can see further than old eyes; mine could not be deceived in the convulsive motion that carried her fore-finger and thumb to the tip of her olfactory organ, which drew up one snuff of the fragrant weed-as hurriedly as a porpoise puts his head out of water for a snuff of the sweet air of morning-when scattering the rest of the pinch to the four winds, she forgot, in her excitement, for once, to wipe the traces from her upper lip. Had I only suspected before, the hearty sneeze Oh! that I should live to see it come to this!" and again, and again, were these heart-thrilling exce mations reiterated. The lad, finding that all the good lady's excitement was likely to be spent on the square-room-though, alas! all wouldn't exter minate the grease-recovered courage and maga nimity enough to reveal himself as the author of the catastrophe, which he did with such contri showing at the same time his wounds, that Aus Polly soon began "to take on" about her dear br the seeming forgetfulness, while anointing his bars, of the kettle of lard and her unfortunate square-rocri But I must take up again the broken thread d my own adventures in this square-room, where I left Aunt Polly flourishing about in joy at our unexpected arrival. that they could be cooked in "less than no time;" A large, straight-backed rocking-chair stood in one corner of this apartment, and on its cushion-stuffed with feathers, and covered with blazing chintz-lay a large gray cat curled up asleep-decidedly the most comfortable looking object in the room-till Aunt Polly unceremoniously shook her out of her snug quarters to give my father the chair. I then discovered that poor puss was without a tail! On expressing my surprise, aunt only replied-" Oh, my cats are all so!" And, true enough, before we left, I saw some half dozen round the house, all deficient in this same graceful appendage of the feline race. The human domestics of the family were only halfgrown-but half did their work, and seemed altogether naturalized to the whirligig spirit of their mistress. The reader may anticipate the consequences to the culinary and table arrangements. For supper we had, not unleavened bread, but that which contained "the little leaven," that having had no time to "leaven the whole lump," rendered Poor Aunt Polly! if my affection for her was less it still heavier of digestion; butter half-worked, tea disinterested than her own, it was none the less in made of water that did not get time to boil, and quantity; and I never loved her more than when she slack-baked cakes. I supped on cucumbers, and gave me that cruelest of squeezes at our parting, complaining of fatigue, was conducted by my kind which proved to be the last-for I never saw her aunt to the sleeping apartment next her own, as it again. But in proof that she loved me to the end, would seem like old times to have me so near. I was remembered in her will; and did I not believe What was wanting to make my bed comfortable, that if living, her generous affection, that was the might have been owing to the fact, that the feathers precious oil through which floated her eccentricities under me had been only half-baked, or were picked like "flies as big as bumble-bees," would smooth from geese of Aunt Polly's raising; at any rate, I over all appearance of ridicule in these reminiswas as restless as the good lady herself until day- cences, they should never amuse any one save mylight, when I fell into as uneasy dreams-blessing self. But really, I cannot better carry out her restthe ducking that saved me a more lingering fate be- less desire of pleasing others, than by reproducing fore. After a brief morning-nap I arose, and seeing the merriment which throughout a long life was fresh eggs brought in from the farm-yard, confidently occasioned by her, who of all the Aunt Pollies that expected to have my appetite appeased, knowing | ever lived, was the AUNT POLLY! STUDY. (EXTRACT.) LIFE, like the sea, hath yet a few green isles The pleasant prospect-storms will come too soon. To seize when'er they can Joy's fleeting boon- Live not as though you had been born for naught. A nobler lesson-that within the clay, Fitful and feebly? Shall it die away, Because, forsooth, no priest is at the shrine? Go ye with learning's lamp and tend the fire divine. Pore o'er the classic page, and turn again The leaf of History- ye will not heed The noisy revel and the shouts of men, The jester and the mime, for ye can feed, Deep, deep, on these; and if your bosoms bleed, At tales of treachery and death they tell, He who loved Rome and Rome's, yet loved himself too well. And she, the traitress, who beneath the weight Stiffed and dying, at the city-gate, Lies buried there-and now the long weeds, dank Rome! lovely in her ruins! Can they claim The pulse beat higher at the very name, The brain grow wild, and the rapt senses reel, HENRY S. HAGERT. THE FANE-BUILDER. BY EMMA C. EMBURY. A poet's wreath shall be thine only crown, IN the olden time of the world there stood on the ocean-border a large and flourishing city, whose winged ships brought daily the costly merchandise of all nations to its overflowing store-houses. It was a place of busy, bustling, turbulent life. Men were struggling fiercely for wealth, and rank, and lofty name. The dawn of day saw them striving each for his own separate and selfish schemes; the stars of midnight looked down in mild rebuke upon the protracted labor of men who gave themselves no time to gaze upon the quiet heavens. One only of all this busy crowd mingled not in their toil-one only idler sauntered carelessly along the thronged mart, or wandered listlessly by the seashore; Adonais alone scorned to bind himself by fetters which he could not fling aside at his own wild will. Those who loved the stripling grieved to see him waste the spring-time of life in thus aimlessly loitering by the way-side; while the old men and sages would fain have taken from him his ill-used freedom, and shut him up in the prison-house where they bestowed their madmen, lest his example should corrupt the youth of the city. LAMENT OF TASSO. as inscrutable as they were immortal? Some set themselves to watch for the Fane-builder, but their eyes were heavy, and at the magic hour when the artist took up his labors, their senses were fast locked in slumber. Yet silently, even as the temple of the mighty Solomon, in which was never heard the sound of the workman's tool, so rose that myste fane. Not until it stood in grand relief against the clear blue sky; not until its lofty dome pierced the clouds even a mountain-top; not until its polished walls were fashioned within and without, to surpassing beauty, did men learn the truth, and behed in the despised Adonais, the wonder-working Fanebuilder. In his wanderings the dreamer had Lighted on the entrance to that exhaustless mine, whence men of like soul have drawn their riches for all time The hidden treasures of poesy had been given to his grasp, and he had built a temple which should long outlast the sand-heaps which the worshipers of Mammon had gathered around them. But even then, when pilgrims came from afar to gaze upon the noble fane, the men of his own kindred and people stood aloof. They cared not for this adornment of their birth-place—they valned not the treasures that had there been gathered to gether. Only the few who entered the vestibule, and saw the sparkle of jewels which decked the inner shrine, or they to whom the pilgrims recounted the priceless value of these gems in other lands-only they began to look with something like pride upon the dreamer Adonais. But for all this Adonais cared little. In vain they showed him the craggy path which traversed the hill of Fame; in vain they set him in the foul and miry roads which led to the temple of Mammon. He bowed before their solemn wisdom, but there was a lurking mischief in his glance as he pointed to his slender limbs, and feigned a shudder of disgust at the very sight of these rugged and distasteful ways. So at last he was suffered to wend his own idle course, and save that careful sires sometimes held him up as a warning to their children, his fellow-costly walls was a veiled and jeweled sanctuary, townsmen almost forgot his existence. Years passed on, and then a beautiful and stately Fane began to rise in the very heart of the great city. Slowly it rose, and for a while they who toiled so intently at their daily business, marked not the white and polished stones which were so gradually and silently piled together in their midst. It grew, that noble temple, as if by magic. Every morning dawn shed its rose-tints upon another snowy marble which had been fixed in its appointed place beneath the light of the quiet stars. Men wondered somewhat, but they had scarce time to observe, and none to inquire. So the superb fabric had nearly reached its summit ere they heard, with unbelieving ears, that the builder of this noble fane, was none other than Adonais, the idler. Few gave credence to the tale, for whence could he, the vagrant, and the dreamer, have drawn those precious marbles, encrusted as they were with sculpture still more precious, and written over with characters But not without purpose had the Fane-builder reared this magnificent structure. Within those There had he enshrined an idol-the image of a bright divinity which he alone might worship, Willingly and freely did he admit the pilgrim and the wayfarer to the outer courts of his temple; gladly did he offer them refreshing draughts from the fountain of living water which gushed up in its midst; but never did he suffer them to enter that "Holy of holies;" never did their eyes rest on that enshrined idol, in whose honor all these treasures were gathered together. In progress of time, when Adonais had lavished all his wealth upon his temple, and when with the toil of gathering and shaping out her treasures, his strength had well-nigh failed him, there came a troop of revilers and slanderers-men of evil tongue, who swore that the Fane-builder was no better than a midnight robber, and had despoiled other temples of all that adorned his own. The tale was as false and foul as they who coined it; but when they pointed to many pigmy fanes which now began to be reared |