"Those laughing orbs, that borrow
From azure skies the light they wear,
Are like heaven—no sorrow
Can float o'er hues so fair."
The merry month of May again came round, bearing in its bosom a merry gift for those stricken parents. Another daughter was born, not the counterpart of Lilly, but that was no matter. A baby had come to enliven the oppressive stillness of the house, which was never still afterwards, and therefore was thrice welcome. Full of life and motion she demanded as much attention as one little body could well lay claim to. She never folded her hands so meekly, you could almost fancy the bliss of heaven clasped there, as Lilly had been wont to do. From the time her eyes were open in the morning until they closed at night, was one gala-day of fun and frolic. Her merry laugh apprised every one of her approach, and her tireless activity and thoughtless love of mischief required constant amusement and watchfulness. At nine months of age she walked and then not a work-basket, trinket or anything else could be left within reach that did not suffer from her roguish fingers. When there is such a dominant love of fun it is almost impossible to keep a child out of mischief, not from a wanton love of it, but from
