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��THE GRANITE MONTHLY.

��Virginia, where he publ'shed a paper for a short time. Under their manage- ment the Courier is a pronounced and aggrt-ssive Republican paper. Mr. Mar- den served one year in the Massachusetts House of Representatives, and has been for about ten years past cleric of that body, in which position he has be- come extremely popular. Mr. Rowell has been postmaster of Lowell for eight years past, and as a genuine stalwart Republican may be regarded as safely es- tablished in the same position during the continuance of the present adminis- tration. He is also a director of the Old Lowell National Bank, and secretary of the Middlesex (North) Agricultural Society. Clark M. Langley, foreman of the job department of the Courier office, formerly of Moore & Langley of the Nashua Telegraph, is also a native of New Hampshire, born in Canaan in 1828. He learned the printer's trade in Lowell, commencing as apprentice in the office of the Lowell Advertiser, at eleven years of age, at the time when Hon. William Butterfield, now of Concord, was engaged as editor of that paper. He was afterwanl, for sixteen years, in the employ of Dr. J. C. Ayer, doing the printing for his extensive manufactory of patent medicines. Subsequently he was for ten years in partnership with Mr. Moore in the publication of the Nashua Tel- egraph, but for the last four years has been with the Courier, in charge of the job department.

��THE GENTIANS.

��L. E. CHELLIS.

��The twilight shades had fallen

Upon the toilworn day, While dews of evening mercy

Refreshed the heated way ;

And when the moon shonegolden

Above the starlit hours. There came, among the shadows,

The angel of the flowers.

The purple asters brightened.

The golden-rods grew fair, And many a dream-thought blossomed

Upon the midnight air.

All weary, in the gloaming.

The angel passed in haste, Where inerr3'-liearted gentians

Smiled from the hedge-row waste.

��Within each fragile chalice

A drop of crystal dew Shone like a priceless jewel

Framed round with velvet hue.

One proud blue-cup closed quickly, In cold and selfish greed.

And one reached forth in gladness To fill the stranger's need.

The hedges and the hillsides Wear many gentians blue,

And oft as summer waneth, The gentian tale is new.

Fair gentians closed in sadness Receive no blessed light.

Yet dream of falling dew drops Through all the weary niglit.

��And gentians fringed with beauty Smile on the opening day ;

And oft an angel pauseth To greet them on its way.

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