JOHN

JOHN FULLERTON.

OHN FULLERTON, one of the most uniformly pleasing and tasteful of living Scottish poets, was born in the village of Woodside, near Aberdeen, Sept. 11, 1836. His parents, although in humble circumstances, were highly respectable and much esteemed among the villagers; the father being one of those mechanical geniuses who quietly-perhaps too quietly for themselves-did his work both of inventing and perfecting not a few useful agricultural implements in his day; the mother, amidst the daily cares of a large family consisting of eight sons and two daughters--of which our poet was the first-born son-finding time to read with interest and profit whatever books of history, travel, poetry or fiction she could lay hands on, and besides being a sweet singer of those olden ballads which some sixty years ago were sung or rehearsed at almost every Scottish fireside. In his tenth year, he voluntarily left school, finding employment as a "twister" in a local cotton mill. Afterwards we find him working as a "heckler" in an Aberdeen flax mill, during which period, actuated by the awakening spirit of genius, he regularly attended an evening school in his native village of Woodside. Here he seems to have made considerable progress in the study of English composition, as shortly afterwards he succeeded in carrying off the prize in that department, as a student in the Mechanics' Institution, Aberdeen. Since these early days, Mr. Fullerton's career has been a busy and full-handed one, showing a distinct upward rise, a superior capacity for work, and a most admirable application of talent and character For upwards of twenty years our throughout. poet occupied a responsible position in a solicitor's office in Peterhead, and at the present time is Assistant Factor on the extensive and beautiful estates of Pitfour, Aberdeenshire, the duties of which he will, I am sure, discharge with sympathetic kindliness and good judgment, as well as faithfulness to his employer.

For many years back, Mr. Fullerton, under the pen names of "Wild Rose," "Robin Goodfellow," and "Rip Van Winkle," has been a fertile and acceptable contributor, both in prose and verse, to the local newspapers and literary press. To quite a number of London and Scottish magazines and periodicals he has also contributed, from year to year, numerous fine poems and literary biographs. Much and well as he has written, Mr. Fullerton has not yet issued his poems in book form. In 1870, however, he issued, anonymously, an interesting little poetical legend in pamphlet form, under

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the title of "The Ghaist o' Dennilair." The clever little booklet very soon ran into a second edition. Mr. Fullerton wrote early and well, like all poets to the manor born, and a strong proof of the excellent quality of his poetical genius is afforded by the gratifying fact that his muse wears well, and he writes in his maturity even better than he did in the promising years of his youth. To the columns of the Christian Leader, the best conducted religious periodical in Scotland, Mr. Fullerton has contributed numerous beautiful verses, showing many admirable traits and touches of fancy, feeling, and just taste. As a prose writer he also shows well, not a few of his sketches, slight in bulk as they are, displaying somewhat of the special function and selective instincts of the literary critic. Personally, Mr. Fullerton is a most trustworthy and lovable man. His literary industry is ceaseless, and his love of his country's literature deep and warm. A man of fine character, firm in friendship, and possessed of many beautiful native gifts, he is much and widely esteemed Not a few of his poems and lyrics are certain to take a permanent place in the literature of his beloved Scotland A. G. M.

0! FARROCHMO!

O, FARROCHMO! mists shroud your brow through all the coming years,

For where he lies your heather bloom is bathed with blood and tears;

And o'er your summit wild birds scream as swift they wing their flight

Away from that dark spot where sat the watchers all that night.

O, rivers twain! flow sad to-day around those gray old towers,

And tell your sorrow as ye flow to winds and wood and flowers;

On yonder green hillside afar, and 'neath the moon's cold ray

The life's blood of a noble heart is ebbing fast

away.

O night winds! dally with his locks in clusters o'er his brow,

And kiss those cheeks and pallid lips, so still and ice-cold now.

And then go sighing down the glens and round the gray old towers

A requiem for the brave young heart asleep in life's bright hours.

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The rivers seaward flowing, and the night
With changeful moon and stars, so coldly bright:
Loved faces and the smile of lovelit eyes.

To me the day is dark as night alway,

Still, with my mind's eye, nature and kind friend I see, and when in touch with them 'tis day.

Why should I fret? for at my brief life's end These sightless eyes, raptured, will gaze abroad On a new world, tried friends, and, over all, my God.

WEDDED.

O, TWAIN young hearts one now forever! Thine
The flower-strewn pathway and the bright sunshine,
The music of the summer woods, the flow
And murmur of the hidden brook among

The reeds and rushes on its seaward way;
Thy life one heart-throb, whether short or long,
In touch with Him whose presence made more
gay,

The marriage feast in Cana long ago.

Within thy home doth joy or sorrow dwell,

One Guest be there to make thy joy complete, To whisper comfort when the shadow lies Beside the hearth. He doeth all things well.

He thine hath blessed-like them sit at His feet And at life's close thou'lt read the "Well done" in His eyes.

JUN

JUNIUS L. HEMPSTEAD.

UNIUS L. HEMPSTEAD was born in Dubuque, Iowa, Nov. 14, 1842, and is a son of ex-Governor Hempstead, deceased. Studious as a boy, it is not surprising to find him a thoughtful, well-read man. His education began in that great bee-hive of knowledge, the public schools, thence on in due course of time to the St. Charles College, of St. Charles, Mo. The influence of his aunt, Matilda Crabbe Lackland, had much to do with the formation of the boy's character. His course at the St. Charles College being completed, Mr. Hempstead returned to Dubuque. Later on he won first prize offered by Dr. Vanzandt for the best original statuette in marble. The subject was "The Gladiator," and it was constructed in the yard of the James Bros. from a block of Vermont marble which was presented to him by those gentlemen, they having noticed his fondness for and aptitude at carving. The next year the prize was again won for a statuette of Carrara marble, the subject "A Highlander." Dr. Vanzandt thereupon offered to send him to Paris and Italy, defraying all expenses for six years. Mr. Hempstead's. parents thought best to decline this offer, however, and he was, instead, sent to a Virginian college. He began his business career with bookkeeping, but ill-health compelled him to change, to a certain extent, his occupation, so that now the most of his time is given to literature, and to the fulfillment of his boyish dreams. H. S.