Volume 1 — HANS EULER. FROM THE GERMAN OF J. G. SEIDL.

"Hark, child—again that knocking! Go, fling wide the door, I pray; Perchance 'tis some poor pilgrim who has wandered from his way. Now save thee, gallant stranger! Sit thou down and share our cheer: Our bread is white and wholesome—see! our drink is fresh and clear." "I come not here your bread to share, nor of your drink to speak. Your name?"—"Hans Euler."—"So! 'tis well: it is your blood I seek. Know that through many a weary year I've sought you for a foe: I had a goodly brother once: 'twas you who laid him low. "And as he bit the dust, I vowed that soon or late on you His death should be avenged; and mark! that oath I will keep true." "I slew him; but in quarrel just. I fought him hand to hand: Yet, since you would avenge his fall,—I'm ready; take your stand. "But I war not in my homestead, by this hearth whereon I tread; Not in sight of these—my dear ones—for whose safety I have bled. My daughter, reach me down yon sword,—the same that laid him low; And if I ne'er come back again, Tyrol has sons enow." So forth they fared together, up the glorious Alpine way, Where newly now the kindling east led on the golden day. The sun that mounted with them, as he rose in all his pride, Still saw the stranger toiling on, Hans Euler for his guide. They climbed the mountain summit; and behold! the Alpine world Showed clear and bright before them, 'neath the mists that upward curled. Below them, calm and happy, lay the valley in her rest, With the châlets in her arms, and with their dwellers on her breast. Amidst were sparkling waters; giant chasms, scarred and riven; Vast, crowning woods; and over all, the pure, blest air of heaven: And, sacred in the sight of God, where peace her treasures spread, On every hearth, on every home, the soul of freedom shed! Both gazed in solemn silence down. The stranger stayed his hand. Hans Euler gently pointed to his own beloved land: "'Twas this thy brother threatened; such a wrong might move me well. 'Twas in such a cause I struggled:—'twas for such a fault he fell." The stranger paused: then, turning, looked Hans Euler in the face; The arm that would have raised the sword fell powerless in its place. "You slew him. Was it, then, for this—for home and fatherland? Forgive me! 'Twas a righteous cause. Hans Euler, there's my hand!" ELEANORA L. HERVEY.